Part 9 (1/2)
CHAPTER XIII
PIE AND ETHICS
One morning Battersleigh was at work at his little table, engaged, as he later explained, upon the composition of a letter to the London Times, descriptive of the Agrarian Situation in the United States of America, when he was interrupted by a knock at his door.
”Come in, come in, Ned, me boy,” he exclaimed, as he threw open the door and recognised his visitor. ”What's the news this mornin'?”
”News?” said Franklin gaily, holding his hands behind his back. ”I've news that you can't guess--good news.”
”You don't mean to tell me they've moved the land office into Ellisville, do you, Ned?”
”Oh, no, better than that.”
”You've not discovered gold on your quarter section, perchance?”
”Guess again--it's better than that.”
”I'll give it up. But leave me a look at your hands.”
”Yes,” said Franklin, ”I'll give you a look, and one more guess.” He held up a small bag before Battersleigh's face.
”It's not potatoes, Ned?” said Battersleigh in an awed tone of voice.
Franklin laughed.
”No; better than that,” he said.
”Ned,” said Battersleigh, ”do ye mind if I have a bit smell of that bag?”
”Certainly,” said Franklin, ”you may have a smell, if you'll promise to keep your hands off.”
Battersleigh approached his face to the bag and snuffed at it once, twice, thrice, as though his senses needed confirmation. He straightened up and looked Franklin in the face.
”Ned,” said he, his voice sinking almost to a whisper, ”it's--it's apples!”
”Right,” said Franklin. ”And isn't that news?”
”The best that could be, and the hardest to believe,” said Battersleigh.
”Where'd you get thim, and how?”
”By diplomacy,” said Franklin. ”Morrison, one of the transit men of the engineers, was home in Missouri for a visit, and yesterday he came back and brought a sack of apples with him. He was so careless that he let the secret out, and in less than half an hour he had lost two thirds of his sack of apples--the boys wheedled them out of him, or stole them. At last he put the bag, with what was left of the apples, in the safe at the hotel, and left orders that no one should have even a look at them. I went out and sent a man in to tell the clerk that he was wanted at the depot, and while he was away I looted the safe--it wasn't locked--and ran for it. It was legitimate, wasn't it? I gave Sam one big red apple, for I knew he would rather have it, to give to his Nora, the waiter girl, than the best horse and saddle on the range. The rest--behold them!
Tell me, do you know how to make a pie?”
”Ned,” said Battersleigh, looking at him with an injured air, ”do you suppose I've campaigned all me life and not learned the simplest form of cookin'? Pie? Why, man, I'll lay you a half section of land to a saddle blanket I'll make ye the best pie that ever ye set eye upon in all your life. Pie, indeed, is it?”
”Well,” said Franklin, ”you take some risks, but we'll chance it. Go ahead. We'll just save out two or three apples for immediate consumption, and not put all our eggs in one basket.”
”Wisely spoken, me boy,” said Battersleigh. ”Ye're a thrue conservative.
But now, just ye watch Batty while he goes to work.”