In The Toils

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Title:     In The Toils
Author: Henry Wallace Phillips [More Titles by Phillips]

Mr. Ezekiel George Washington Scraggs, late of Missouri, later of Utah, and latest of North Dakota, stood an even six-foot unshod. He had an air of leanness, almost emaciation, not borne out by any fact of anatomy. We make our hasty estimates from the face. Brother Scraggs's face was gaunt. Misfortune had written there, in a large, angular hand, "It might have been"--those saddest words of tongue or pen. The pensive sorrow of E. G. W.'s countenance had misled many people--not but what the sorrow was genuine enough (Scraggsy explained it in four words, "I've been a Mormon"), but the expression of a blighted, helpless youth carried into early middle age was an appearance only: I mean it was nothing to bank on in dealing with Zeke. Still, if you could see those eyes, dimmed with a settled melancholy; those mustachios, which, absorbing all the capillary possibilities of his head, drooped like weeping willows from his upper lip; and above, the monumental nose--that springing prow that once so grandly parted the waves of adverse circumstance, until, blown by the winds of ambition, his bark was cast ruined on the shores of matrimony--you would not so much blame the man who mistook E. G. Washington Scraggs for a something not too difficult. Red Saunders said that Scraggsy looked like a forlorn hope lost in a fog, but when you came to cash in on that basis it was most astonishing. In general a man of few words, on occasions he would tip back his chair, insert the stem of his corncob pipe in an opening provided by nature at the cost of a tooth, and tell us about it.

[Illustration: "Scraggsy looked like a forlorn hope lost in a fog."]

"Why can't people be honest?" said Mr. Scraggs--_Silence_!

"Charley!" cried Red, reproachfully, "why don't you tell the gentleman?"

"No, no, no!" replied Charley. "You be older'n me, Red--you explain."

"Well," said Red, "I suppose the loss of their hair kind of discourages 'em."

"I had rather," meditated Mr. Scraggs, "I had much rather wear the top of my head a smooth white record of a well-spent life than go amblin' around the country like the Chicago fire out for a walk, and I repeat: Why can't people be honest?"

"I begin to pity somebody an awful lot," said Red. "Did you send him home barefoot?"

"You go on!" retorted Mr. Scraggs. "I fell into the hands of the Filly-steins oncet, and they put the trail of the serpent all over me. I run into the temple of them twin false gods, Mammon and Gammon, and I stood to draw one suit of sack-cloth and a four-mule wagon-load of ashes."

"Is them the close you got on now?" said Charley. "And what did you get for the ashes?"

"The play come up like this," said Scraggs. "After my eighteenth bestowin' of the honored name of Scraggs upon a person that didn't appreciate it the Mormon Church see fit to assume a few duties on me. I was put in a position of importance in a placer minin' districk inhabited by jack-rabbits, coyotes, Chinamen, and Mrs. Scraggses. And still I wasn't happy. Them jack-rabbits et up my little garding patch; the coyotes gathered at nights and sung me selections from the ghost dance; the Chinamen sprung every con-cussed trick on me that a man who wears his whiskers down his back can think of; and day and night alike, Mrs. Scraggs, from one to eighteen, informed me what I'd ort to do.

"I tried to strike up a little friendly conversation with the Chinks, for variety, but it weren't no use. A Chinaman'll be a Mormon, or a Democrat, or a cannibal, or any other durn thing for five cents, sixty days from date. He ain't got any more natural convictions than a Missouri River catfish. They'd just keep a-watchin' my face so's they could agree with me. Now, I didn't want that. I wanted to get up an argument with somebody I could sass back, because in my own house, where I was lord and master, if I happened to remark it was a nice, bright day everybody swore you couldn't see your hand before your face, and I let the subject drop right there. Mrs. Scraggs quar'led some among herself, but when I come in her motto was, 'United we stand him on his head, and divided we fall upon his neck.' When she done the last, of a still day, you could hear the crack of my cervycal vertybree three mile.

"So, at last, I wearied. I writ a letter to the Elders tellin' 'em I enjoyed the work, but thought it was time for my spirit of self-sacrifice to exercise himself a little. So would they mind givin' me another job? Somethin' like lyin' on a board and havin' a doctor rip-saw chunks out of me for the benefit of Science, and let him lose the pieces, for all I cared.

"The Mormon Church, she come to my relief by sendin' me out on a proselytin' expedition to York State. But I wasn't built proper to lead errin' sheep into the fold. Most of the sheep they hollered 'Baa!' when they see me, and gathered distance with both feet. If I did get a chance to talk to a man he always asked me awkward questions. Like one old farmer, whilest I was explainin' the advantages of havin' as many helpmates and cheerful companions and domestic joys as possible, busts into me by takin' holt of my coat and askin' so confidential I couldn't lie to him, 'How do you find it yourself?'

"'The Lord be good to fools!' says I. 'You got _one_ now, ain't you?'

"''M ya-a-as,' says he, without anything you could figger as wild enthusiasm in his voice; 'I hev.'

"'Well,' says I, 'multiply one by eighteen, and let's have a drink.'

"'I had to send word to the Elders that Books of Mormon weren't looked upon as popular readin' in the outlyin' districts, so should I come home, or try New York City? They sends me word back, wishin' my work to prosper, to try New York City, but not to draw on 'em for any more funds until I had a saved sinner or two to show for it. Well, sir, this last clause jolted me. I had spent money free among them farmers, to boom trade, and for the purchasin' of fancy clothes, more to look at than be comfortable in, the idee bein' to show how good a thing the Church of Mormon was to the first glance of the eye. And now, after side-trackin' my railroad fare home, I weren't wadin' in wealth, by no means. More'n that, I understood that the city of New York was a much more expensive place than St. Looey. So I writ a letter back, tellin' 'em I was scatterin' seed so's you could hardly see across the street. There weren't no hope for a crop unless I had more plain sowin' material--please remit.

"And then they come back at me, sayin' I'd already cost the community about four hundred and fifty dollars, and not even a Dutchman by way of results. That I'd understand this weren't said in no mercenary spirit, but just as a matter of business. They would hold a prayer-meetin', they said, which, no doubt, would bring the end aimed at, and for me to go forth strong in the faith and gather 'em up from the wayside.

"I let fly oncet more, sayin' that I was strong in the faith but feeble in the pocket; that sinners were costly luxuries in a big town like New York. How was I goin' to play the Prophet and stand the man off for my board?

"Elder Stimmins wrote back pussonally, exhortin' me to be of good heart, sayin' further that the days of miracles weren't past; at any moment the unrepentant might get it in the conscience--and signed himself my friend and brother in the church, with a P. S. readin':

_Dear Zeke_: My wife Susan Ann will continner to have high-stukes till I produce a grand pianny. Mary's after a dimint neclas, and my beluvid spous Eliza (that's the carut-heded one lives down by the rivver) will put sumthin' in my food if she don't git a gol watch and chane. Tomlinson's fust three ar rasin' Ned fur new housis, hors and kerige, and the like. The new ones is more amable, but yellin' fur close and truck. Uncle Peter Haskins' latest is on the warpath fur a seleskin sak, and so on and so forth. You know how it is yourself, dear frend and bro., and we ar broke, so I incurrige you to keep your hart stout, your faith intack, and hunt up a poker-game sumwheres, becus we honest ain't got the money.

SAUL STIMMINS.

"'Well!' says the cookee, when he heaved the egg into the coffee, 'that settles it!' And that settled me. I sure did know how it was myself. If there was any man in or out of the Territory of Utah that knew how it was myself, I and him was the same indivijool.

"I took thought of Mrs. Scraggs out there all alone by herself, with her darlin' Zeke entirely out of reach, and while I don't recommend the idee of jollyin' yourself by gloatin' over the misfortunes of others, I thinks this here state of affairs could be worse, and I went forth strong in the faith to New York City, feelin' I might encounter some kind of quick action, like Brother Stimmins prophesied.

"And there, you see, is where sinful feelin' in me turned me over to the enemy, bound hand and foot, gagged and blindfolded. Who was I to exalt myself agin the smart young men of New York City? How come it the foolish notion buzzed in my cockloft that, like Samson of old, I might fall upon the adversary, hip, hurrah, and thigh, and of the fragments that remained gather seven bushels? Pride goeth before destruction and a naughty spirit before a fall. Up I sasshays to my hotel bedroom to take account of resources. Mighty slim they was. In the false bottom of the trunk was a pocketbook that looked like the wheel of progress had passed over it, and a little sack of nuggets--that was all. Them nuggets was the pride of my life. I didn't buy 'em from the Chinaman that offered, but I come horrible near it. And yet that Chink had the innocentest face in Utah; he might ha' stood for a picture of Adam before Eve cast a shadder on his manly brow. I don't recall anything that's more deceivin' than appearances, yet what in the world's a man to go by? Well, them nuggets ort to said to me, 'Young man, beware! Be warier than John H. Devilkins himself! All that's heavy and yaller is not gold. Sometimes a patient Chinaman, flappin' of the flies with his pigtail, will industrusly manufacture that same per schedule out of common, ordinary lead, and, by exercisin' the art of gildin', almost whip-saw people by the name of Scraggs, if so it hadn't 'a' been their gardeen angel moved 'em to try a sample with the edge of a knife.'

"Was I warned? Well, I dunno, anyhow, I trotted myself out to the street to see what this here Metropolus business had to offer different from just plain St. Looey.

"And I found out. Dear friends and brothers, I wonder have you ever seen a man reachin', reachin' for a playin'-card layin' prostrate on the table before him, when his last chip is in the pile, his last cent in the chip, all manners and kinds of bills comin' due tomorrow, the house to close in fifteen minutes, and hopin' that card is just one more little two-spot? Are you familiar with the lines of anggwish on his face? Well, of all the hullabaloo, skippin', flyin', pushin', haulin', rompin', tearin', maulin' and scratchin' messes I ever got into, that street was the worst. At the end of fifteen minutes I had no life in me above my feet, and they was simply slidin', the one before the other, without any aim or purpose. I stood on a corner clawin' hunks of fog off my intellect. In two minutes more I'd ha' yearned for Mrs. Scraggs and Home. I lost all intention of drawin' sustenance out of the inhabitants, when all of a suddent up steps one of these brisk, smart, zippee-zippee-zizoo-ketch-me-if-you-kin young city fellers, the kind of lu-lu joker to go through a countryman like a lightnin' express through a tunnel, leavin' nothin' but the hole and a little smoke, and says he, in a hurry:

"'Sorry to have kept you waitin', Mr. Johnson, but knowin' how much it meant to both of us, I----Oh, I beg your pardon!' says he; 'I mistook you for a friend of mine--no offense, I hope?'

"Now, this same person had on a soup-pot hat that looked borrowed, and he wore his clothes like he used 'em for a hiding-place, but how was a plain jaybird like me to notice that? I was almighty lonesome, too, so I told him there weren't no offense at all. Well, he apologized again, and then he begun to laugh, it was so ridiklus, his mistakin' me for Johnson, that he'd knew all his life, and he says, 'I'll tell you what I'll do; we'll step across the street and tone up our systems at my expense, thereby wipin' out any animosity.' So, of course, rather than be peevish, I done it. Then I tried to wipe out some animosity, but he wouldn't have it. Nobody must buy but him. I explained--givin' myself dead away--that I was a stranger, with nothin' to do but hate myself to death, and he was defraudin' me of a rightful joy. But no, says he. I might be a stranger, or I might not. Personally he thought I'd resided some time in New York City, by my looks; if that was so I knew perfectly well he was only follerin' the customs of the place, and if I _was_ a stranger it was up to him to do right by me, anyhow. So we grew one degree stronger with no cost to Utah. And we stayed there, gettin' powerful as anything, and kind of confidential, too, till finally he felt called upon to explain his business with this man Johnson. He took me into a back room to do it.

"'Mr. Scraggs,' says he, 'there's things betwixt Heaven and Earth that ain't dreamt of on your velocipede, Horatio.'

"'Ya-a-as,' says I.

"'Sh-h-h,' says he, 'not so loud. Here's the opportunity of a lifetime goin' on the loose for want of a man. That durn Johnson has lost his golden show. It's a very strange story,' says he.

"'Ya-a-as,' says I. He looked at me a minute, but Lord! How was a poor Mormon to hold suspicions? So he goes on.

"'At first,' he says, 'you might git the idee there was somethin' jubeeous in these preceedin's, but there ain't. I knew a man that once upon a time was the honestest man ever lived. Honest? Why, I've known that man to go to bed weepin', he felt so bad to learn George Washington stole a march on the enemy. "I never would have believed it of George if it hadn't been in the book," he says. That's the kind of a man he was--just your sort to a dot. Well, sir, he has an honest claim agin these United States for damage and raisin' the divil with his farm durin' the Civil War. And do you suppose these here United States, _E Pluribus Unum_, In God We Trust, paid that bill? Not on the tintype of your grandfather. When he goes to Washington with it, the President he says, "Now, I'd pay you this in a minute, Billy," he says, "but think of them Congressmen!" and the President he shakes his head and Billy comes home again. And from that time on, before his very eyes, he has to see his widder and eighteen helpless children die of starvation through not havin' enough to eat, right in front of his face--ain't that fierce?' says he.

"'Ya-a-as,' says I.

"'Well, at last this man gets a job in the Treasury; it didn't pay much--just enough to live on. He had charge of the banknotes before the Secretary signs 'em, to make good. Now, here comes in the curious part of it: my friend's handwritin' and the Secretary's handwritin' was that much alike neither man could tell one from t'other. This gives my friend the idee of how to break even with Uncle Sam. He just naturally laid his hooks on ten thousand dollars' worth of one-hundred-dollar notes and flew the coop, waitin' to sign 'em and dispose of 'em at leisure, thus payin' his own claim. But here comes a hitch; after he done it his conscience bit him; the notes was good; he passed a lot of 'em with no trouble, but he quit on the play. Now, if some good, honest man, yet not quite so honest as all that, wanted to turn a dollar, he could buy two thousand dollars' worth of them bills for one hundred ordinary cold money. It's this way, too,' says he. 'It ain't only conscience; the old man's mortal scart; he's always dreamin' of Secret Service men comin' in on rubbers. Now, ain't that an opportunity?'

"'Ya-a-as,' says I.

"'Well,' says he, lookin' at his watch, 'it's now my time to eat, Mr. Scraggs, and I've took up so much of your valuable time chinnin' here, I don't feel I could do less than share my simple repast with you. I'm a stock-broker myself,' he says, 'but none of these durned rich ones, so if you can stand for once to eat a meal not exceedin' five dollars in price, why, come along!' says he.

"Then we went into a high-toned vittel dispensary, I bet you. Jeemima! but she was gold and white paint to knock your eye out. I'll never tell you what I et, but it was good food. And to wind up, come little cups of coffee and big seegars. It was beautiful. Then says my man, 'Well, this is a day in a hundred. I can't tell you how good it makes me feel in this city of sin to come across a square man like yourself--what do you say to a bottle of wine?'

"'Ya-a-as,' says I. With life ripplin' along like this I was endorsin' the whole time-table.

"Wine is a mawker. The first small glass of it hadn't gone whistlin' down afore she begun to mawk me. 'Ezekiel!' says she, 'be merry; disport yourself--where's your game blood? Try a fall with this gentleman.'

"'Ya-a-as,' says I to myself. And then I says aloud and hearty, 'My friend, you've used me right. It ain't that I want to make money, but just to help your friend along; I haven't any greenbacks much in my possession, but,' I says, 'if you're willin' to arrange a dicker, whereby I exchange eighteen ounces of nuggets--the present market value of Chink Creek gold bein' seventeen dollars and forty cents per ounce--for two thousand dollars of your friend's bills, it bein' herein stated and provided that you can pass 'em like you say you can to my satisfaction, why, I'm your little huckleberry, waitin' to get picked.'

"'I got you,' says he, and we shook hands. 'You go to your hotel and bring the dust,' says he, 'and I'll slide along and make the old man sign the bills. I'll meet you on the corner where we met before.'

"So I met him on the corner, and we went up-stairs to a room where a little old man was signin' bills fast and furious.

"'Slide out one,' says my friend, 'till I take Mr. Scraggs out and prove I'm no liar.'

"The old man carefully blotted a hundred-dollar green and away we goes to a bank. It was a sure-enough bank. Outside was the name in big letters and inside was the man called 'teller' that won't tell you nothin' and looks as if he hated you, like all good banks has.

"'Fives and tens for this, please,' says my friend. That teller never quit thinkin' of his dyspepsy, but chucked the stuff right over the counter.

"'How's that?' says my friend, when we got outside.

"'All right,' says I. 'And here's my plunder.' I let him heft the bag.

"'Heavy truck, ain't it?' he said. 'But we can always stand the weight, can't we?' He picked out one of them glitterin' Chinese works of art and regarded it real lovin'. 'Yes,' says he, 'it's sure nice stuff. Hurry along and we'll close the dicker.'

"Up-stairs the old gent had the money ready for me to count.

"'Correct?' says he.

"'Ya-a-as,' says I.

"'Well, I'll put 'em in a neat bundle for you,' says he. When that was done I handed my precious gold over.

"'Now, come here and have one last drink of satisfaction,' says my friend. I turned to the table and imbibed my last tonic at his expense.

"'Here you are, sir,' says the little old man, handin' me my package. 'And much obliged to you; only remember this: Secret Service men is all about; don't open her till you get safely in your room--mind that, now! Good-day.'

"Down the steps I goes, ker-thump, ker-thump. But when I reached the street I begun to wonder to myself if I hadn't better just see what those fellers would do next--no harm in ketchin' on to as many city ways as possible--so I hid under the stoop till they come out, glancin' sharp this way and that, but missin' Ezekiel George Washington.

"Up the street they skips; me after 'em, soon's I could, safe. Round the corner they goes. Me, too. And then they sasshays into a joolry shop. Here I thought I'd stay outside.

"My friend, after some talk, passes a big nugget over the counter. The joolryman he bores into it with a file and hands it back. You never see a face more contemshus than his'n. Then some kind of argyment broke out, arms a-wavin'; windin' up by the joolryman raspin' pretty near every nugget in the heap. Each pass his face got more contemshus yet. Finally he swept the whole business back in the bag, throws it at 'em and intimates they can leave at any time.

"They left. I never heard such language in my life! It ortn't be allowed in a large city. Why, that friend of mine, he heaved the bag of nuggets in the gutter and he raised up his hands, and just as sure as I sit here tellin' you about it, friends and brothers, he made a Fourth-of-July speech five minutes long, and never repeated himself once! I wouldn't go near him, feelin' in his excited state of mind it might lead to trouble. The little old man at last dragged him away.

"I picked up them poor mishandled treasures in the gutter, for old acquaintance sake. And surmisin' it probably wouldn't hardly be worth my while to wait till I got to the hotel to sample my prize-package, I opened her on the spot.

"Well, there's no use in talkin'. Them fellers were a pair of scoundrels. Instead of anything that looked or smelt or sounded like money in that parcel, was nothin' but a lot of newspapers cut into strips, with a note on top of 'em bearin' these insultin' words:

"'_There's a sucker born every minute_.'

"Then I counted up on my fingers fourteen drinks and one five-dollar dinner, and says I to myself:

"'Ya-a-as,' says I, 'I don't reckon but what that's true.'"

[The end]
Henry Wallace Phillips's short story: In The Toils

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