The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 230: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

700 “ Here, climb in and I'll give you a lift,’ Green suggested; “I’m going your way for a couple of miles. You get plenty of exercise.”’ “T certainly do,” the old fellow as- serted, promptly accepting the invita- tion — “’specially since that horse of mine got sick. I wouldn’t mind if you'd loan this here outfit of yours for a week or so, Mr, I didn’t ever get your name,” he concluded inqui- ringly. “ Green is my name,” the land-agent volunteered. ‘““Mine is Cleary,” the carrier went on; “you must have heard of me in your goin’s around through this dis- trict. I’m the man that saved the flag at Shiloh.” “Oh, indeed!” Green exclaimed. “Of course I’ve heard of that. Ive been wanting to meet the hero of Shiloh.” “Well, I’m the fellow,’ Cleary de- clared. “Our Congressman’s been tryin’ to get me a medal for the last fifteen years, but the best he got me so far is this here job on the rural free delivery.” He had spread out part of the con- tents of his mail-sack on the seat be- tween them and begun to sort the let- ters. Mr. Green, though keeping half an eye to his mettlesome horse, found a remarkable interest in the addresses on the envelopes. He watched them close- ly as they were uncovered one by one. “ Buyin’ any of these farms around here you’re lookin’ at?” the garrulous carrier inquired in the midst of his work. | “Not many,” replied Green. “I looked in at the Nash place yester- day.” “T heard they was goin’ to sell out,” said Cleary. “ They’re figurin’ to leave Indiana.”’ “Yes; so they told me,” Green re- sponded. “Where do you suppose they’re going?” The question was a natural one, and he asked it in an offhand manner that would have disarmed any suspicion THE ARGOSY.. that he was especially interested. But old Cleary, the gossip clearing - house of the neighborhood, would have an- swered him as freely in any instance. “ Well, they ain’t said anything-right out, so far as I’ve heard,” he replied; “but I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved out to Colorado. They’ve been negotiatin’ with somebody out there, I guess, and it’s prob’ly about buyin’ land. * At least, they been gettin’ a letter from some place in Colorado about once a week lately, and I know they ain't got any relations out West, be- cause they got any mail from there before.” “That’s a finé country,” Green ven- tured; “at least, where it’s been irri- gated it turns out great crops. I won- der if it’s that part of the State they have in mind. Irrigated farming is al- together different from what you see around here, you know.” “YT don’t recollect just what the town is,” Cleary said, pawing over his letters; “it’s a queer name a feller wouldn’t remember easy. Why, here’s a letter for Joel now!” he added as he fished out an envelope addressed to Joel Nash in a shaky scrawl. Green took a look at the postmark. . “* Ashkowa,” he read; “ no wonder you wouldn’t remember that. Sounds like an Indian name. They have lots of them out there.” “That’s the place!” Crowley de- clared; ‘‘I’ve seen it three or four times on Nash’s letters, but I’m blamed if I could call it right off from mem- ory at that.” | The remainder of the conversation, until Mr. Green dropped his talkative passenger at a crossroads, was of crops and farm values and other topics wholly unrelated to the Nash family and its probable movements. But when Mr. Green returned to his hotel in Tolmans that night he wrote a letter to a man named Sneed in Den- ver, and before he mailed it he slipped into the envelope the photograph of Martin Nash that he had abstracted COMicdoo S CO@