Ere the first violet blew, Mr. Peters, Mr. Ragsdale and Mr. Kidd sat
together on a bench in Union Square and conspired. Mr. Peters was the
D'Artagnan of the loafers there. He was the dingiest, the laziest,
the sorriest brown blot against the green background of any bench in
the park. But just then he was the most important of the trio.
Mr. Peters had a wife. This had not heretofore affected his standing
with Ragsy and Kidd. But to-day it invested him with a peculiar
interest. His friends, having escaped matrimony, had shown a
disposition to deride Mr. Peters for his venture on that troubled
sea. But at last they had been forced to acknowledge that either
he had been gifted with a large foresight or that he was one of
Fortune's lucky sons.
For, Mrs. Peters had a dollar. A whole dollar bill, good and
receivable by the Government for customs, taxes and all public
dues. How to get possession of that dollar was the question up for
discussion by the three musty musketeers.
"How do you know it was a dollar?" asked Ragsy, the immensity of the
sum inclining him to scepticism.
"The coalman seen her have it," said Mr. Peters. "She went out
and done some washing yesterday. And look what she give me for
breakfast--the heel of a loaf and a cup of coffee, and her with a
dollar!"
"It's fierce," said Ragsy.
"Say we go up and punch 'er and stick a towel in 'er mouth and cop
the coin" suggested Kidd, viciously. "Y' ain't afraid of a woman, are
you?"
"She might holler and have us pinched," demurred Ragsy.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53