LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 4428, 4 July 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

HOBNBWOGGLED : A WEBTZBN PLANT. (London Society.) r There were four of us in the party — a bank - manager from 8t Paul, two Englishmen going out on the plains to hunt, and myself— and we occupied a section in a car on the train brand for Glyndon, in the Bed Biver Valley. That was as -far as the train went in those days. We had been discussing the strange things that happened occasionally out in this western world, and our conversation received the silent attention of two other people beside* ourselves. One listener was a tall *man,-in ordinary dress, with a clean-shaved face, excepting in so far as that he wore what the Amerioana sometimes call "a chin whisker," and over one eye he had a green 4hade. The other was a small elderly man, whole dress and general appearance stamped ftnp as being a frontiers-man. The tall man aat in the section ahead of us, on the seat next to us, as if for the purpose of better hearing our conversation. Not in an offensive way, but as men listen to a general conTersahon in a public place. The little man *at on the opposite side of the car, leaning -out of his' seat across the passage in our direction. "Well, yes," said the, bank manager, in answer to a question put I>y one of the hunters, "oace I was. It wag during the week of the State fair at St Paul. On the Tuesday afternoon, just before the bank was just going to close, I was standing inside the counter, near the teller's drawer, when in walked a regular old prairie hayseed. The town was half -full of them, and this fellow was a type of a certain class of them. He had on an old pair of trousers, tucked in a pair of boots that probably had ■never seen blacking since they were bought, ■mad a buffalo coat thrown baok, exposing a flannel shirt without any collar, but let off •with a brandmew green satin tie. He had, I supposed, bought this, and the new hat he wore, to *nx himself up a little for the fair. He wanted polishing up badly enough. He -wore also a pair of large spectacles with broad horn rims. To look at him, you could j«e at once that he was one of those everlasting bores, that talk you to dcuth about crops, and argue all night abeut the merits of rival mowers. He lounged up to the teller, and «aid, in a voice that sounded like a clap of thunder in a vinegar-jar. 'Say, mister! Are yon running. this yere bank?' 'What is*fc yon want?' asked the teller curtly, who was about to oheck his cash and get away. 'Waal, I'll tell you how it is;' and then he turned and addressed his conversation to me; "you see, squire, I've got some fttijmttin down to the fair here. There's two on 'em is the finest Bteers out of the hull orowd, and they han't given me no prize for 'em neither; but I'll be goldonedif you or any square man won't say as. my two steers — •mind you, I'm speaking of the two red steers —ain't the best in the hull lot. They are, ■ squire, and you'd better believe it.' 'Well, I haven't got anything to do with awarding -the prizes, I said impatiently ; ' and we're going to close the bank now, offioe hours are about up.' 'You ain't got nothing to do with them, I know, squire, I know that well ■ enough; but don't crowd a man. Xookee here, I've sold them steers, and six more, to a 4Jbicsgo buyer, for a matter of five hundred and fifty dollars. It's dirt-cheap, squire, and you'd say it if you saw them steen of mine, llebbe you've been down to the fair ?' ' Yes, ' .yes,' I said, anxious to ged rid of him ; ' I jaw the steers, and the cowb too. 1 'WHy, them ain't cows ; them's Durham calves,' he began, when I struck is, and said, ' Look here, •I don't know anything about your steers or jour animals anyhow. What's your business with me P' ' Waal, squire, I hearn you waß the handiest chap at your business on the hull street, and I want you to go slow a bit, for I ain't much up to your bofiiness-f elks' ways, .and I'll tell you what I'm a-runnin' for.' He polled along greasy-looking pocket-book from . the depths of an inside ponket, and began to untie the twine that fastened it up. ' This jfere Chicago man has given me this yere cheque. Now I ain't much on the count ' jnyself, and I want to know if this is a square -deaL He says that's the same thing as five lundred and fifty dollars in greenbacks. Now I want to know if that'B so, for no man ain't going to take away them steers if there's any jhenanagbin about this yere cheque ; you can bet your sweet life on that, squire.' " I examined the cheque, which was drawn on the first National Bank, Chicago, and .\. signed W. B. Chitty. It appeared to be in

due form ; but though 1 had heatd the drawer's name I did not know him, and so I told my granger friend. ' Waal, I don't know a heap about him, myself/ he said ; ' I jold him some cattle last fair-time, and ho paid me part in cash and part in one of them cheques, and I got the money all right ; but the cheque worn'fc the same colour as this jera one, and didn't say nothing about no National Bank on to it. It had two men's names on it, and one of their pictures in the corner, so as folks could know him, I guess, if he didn't act square up to the handle with them.' ' A different bank, that's aIL You ■ say the cheque he gave you was paid ?' ' Yes ; jes, it were paid OX; and if you say this yore's all right, why, I guess I'll let him take them steers away on Monday.' <I don't know that it is all right ; 1 only suppose so. I can't cash it for you, if th •''.-; what you're after.' 'So, noj go slow, M.aire. I ain't . asking you to do nothing tb^i ain't reg'lar ; bat mebbe you could do something with this jere thing, in a day or ao, if I leave it with you, as would fetch the dollars and cents out of it, eh, squire? How's that?' 'I'll send it to Chicago for collection, if you like ;' and I couldn't help .laughing at the scared look he put on at the proposition. 'Send it to Chicago! Holdup there,. squire; I don't suppose but you know jour business; but I've heard they're a mighty slick lot down to Chicago.' 'Oh, -that will be all right, you needn't be afraid,' Xsaid.; for he evidently thought the people of Chicago were on the look-out for greenJioma. ' Waal, squire, if you're satisfied, I am ; but be mighty keerful them Beats down ■to Chicago don't hornswoggle us both out of them five hundred and fifty dollars ; it would v.comeu .come mighty hard on me jußt now, for I'm a going to put up a new house oh my place down to Kandiyohi County, and the old woman's on the build too for her cheese .fixings.' "Then lie invited me to come down to the lair next day, to look at the two red steers, and offered to stand the drinks there and then if I would come out; and then he went -off. I may tell you that, when I told him to endorse his cheque, he first wanted me to do it because it wasn't much in his way, and he'd lad to get a neighbour to do it last year ; but finally he wrote 'Bed Bird, Kandiyochi ■County, Minnesota,' across the back of the -cheque, making one line of each small word, and two of Kandiyobi and Minnesota, in letters of about a quarter of an [inch long. ITexfc dey he was in again to ask how that .affair was getting along, and to show me a shawl he'd bought for his old woman. ' MarTied her twenty-three years ago down to Winconsin, squire,' he said; 'and she can hitch up a span^of horses quick'rn than any woman, and most men, round the place.' He had to tell me too that a neighbour of his had been paid in cash, and he wanted to know whether I didn't think this suspicious. I told him it was not, but rather the contrary, as I ■opposed the amount being small, the Ohicago buyer preferred settling in cash. No doubt, I said, bis own cheque would be paid in a fsw days, by return of mail. He said that was all Tight, he worn't in no hurry. Then he offered to introduce me to his friend who had Bold the steer, but I promptly declined. One of that crowd was enough for me. " Soon after the bank opened on Saturday, ha was in again, to tell me that he had met another neighbour from Xandiyohi at the hotel who had sold to another Chicago man, for a cheque; and that he had advised its being brought tome to be fixed. I thanked him, and again declined an invitation to* come right along and see them steers. He left, saying he had to get a few fixings for the old woman right away, as he calculated upon getting op the line home that evening. Just before the bank was going to close, however, he was back again. He had bought a span of horses from a man who mi exhibiting ia the fair, and had agree • to give two hundred and fifty dollars ) .- them. Tho man wanted his money dowr, occauio he had to take hia animals out of tiio fair-ground; •nd my granger also wished to get home for "Sunday, tho fair being over. Had I gob the money from Ohicago yot ? Kb there wasn't time. I couldn't receive it till Monday morning. Well, he'd heard at tho hotel, he said, that the Chicago buyer was a square man and did regular business round the State; but his fear wag, that the Chi >*io bank might tornswogglo me about tho r.ijney. I told him theie was no danger about that ; and ho

then asked whether I couldn't pay the man for the horses, and deduot it out of the amount of his cheque. This was not usual, of course, and there was no time to make inquiries about him, as the bank was going to close for the day, it being Saturday ; but there seemed to be no danger about doing so. He was evidently one of the granger orowd that filled the town ; he had pressed me on several occasions to accompany him down to his stalls at the fair ; and his story generally hang so well together that, after a little hesitation, I said I would do so.

11 1 know the Chicago men were in town bujing, and I had old hay-seed's endorsement, so I handed him a cheque, and told him to make it out for two hundred and fifty dollar e. It ended in my hating to fill up the body of the oheaue, and he sinned it. He counted his money, held out hia hand to shake hands, and, inviting me to call in whenever I came down toEandiyohi, departed. I never saw him again. The cheque was returned from Chicago marked, * Not W. B. Ohitty's usual signature, 1 and as I read it I knew that a confidence-man had gone through me for two hundred and fifty dollari.' «one of that orowd was enough for you, then, evidently," said one of the Englishmen. ' Good enough !' said the manager, smiling ; ' the worst of it was that, thinking orer the matter that evening, it all of a sudden flashed across me that the hand I hfed shaken was not that of a regular granger. It wasn't rough enough. That shaking hand was the only weak part of the cuts'* whole game. It was too late, however, then, to do anything, even if I had been snre.' 'Pretty rough on you, sir,' said the ear-conductor, who had stood by to hear the end of the ■story. 'Yes,* said the manager, • I used to get mad about it for a long time; but I've got over that now.' • Couldn't play it on you again, sir?' 'No, not worth a cent.' 'There's •some fellow playing the confidence-trick along the line now,' the conductor said j ' scooped a granger out of a hundred dollars yesterday,' ■ndwent through a Canadian emigrant, on his way to Garry, for all he was worth ; I guess he'll get away, though, before we strike him j he'll have a rough time of it if any of the boys about Glyndon lay hands on him ; I'm told there's an old prairie-crusher alon* here somewheres, that he went through last fall, that swears he'll i aise his hair if he catches him.* " (To be continued.)