I said, “I want three hundred dollars for Papa’s saddle horse that was stolen.”
He said, “You will have to take that up with the man who has the horse.”
“Tom Chaney stole it while it was in your care,” said I. “You are responsible.”
Stonehill laughed at that. He said, “I admire your sand but I believe you will find I am not liable for such claims. Let me say too that your valuation of the horse is high by about two hundred dollars.”
I said, “If anything, my price is low. Judy is a fine racing mare. She has won purses of twenty-five dollars at the fair. I have seen her jump an eight-rail fence with a heavy rider.”
“All very interesting, I’m sure,” said he.
“Then you will offer nothing?”
“Nothing except what is yours. The ponies are yours, take them. Your father’s horse was stolen by a murderous criminal. This is regrettable but I had provided reasonable protection for the animal as per the implicit agreement with the client. We must each of us bear our own misfortunes. Mine is that I have temporarily lost the services of my watchman.”
“I will take it to law,” said I.
“You must do as you think best,” said he.
“We will see if a widow and her three small children can get fair treatment in the courts of this city.”
“You have no case.”
“Lawyer J. Noble Daggett of Dardanelle, Arkansas, may think otherwise. Also a jury.”
“Where is your mother?”
“She is at home in Yell County looking after my sister Victoria and my brother Little Frank.”
“You must fetch her then. I do not like to deal with children.”
“You will not like it any better when Lawyer Daggett gets hold of you. He is a grown man.”
“You are impudent.”
“I do not wish to be, sir, but I will not be pushed about when I am in the right.”
“I will take it up with my attorney.”
“And I will take it up with mine. I will send him a message by telegraph and he will be here on the evening train. He will make money and I will make money and your lawyer will make money and you, Mr. Licensed Auctioneer, will foot the bill.”
“I cannot make an agreement with a child. You are not accountable. You cannot be bound to a contract.”
“Lawyer Daggett will back up any decision I make. You may rest easy on that score. You can confirm any agreement by telegraph.”
“This is a damned nuisance!” he exclaimed. “How am I to get my work done? I have a sale tomorrow.”
“There can be no settlement after I leave this office,” said I. “It will go to law.”
He worried with his eyeglasses for a minute and then said, “I will pay two hundred dollars to your father’s estate when I have in my hand a letter from your lawyer absolving me of all liability from the beginning of the world to date. It must be signed by your lawyer and your mother and it must be notarized. The offer is more than liberal and I only make it to avoid the possibility of troublesome litigation. I should never have come here. They told me this town was to be the Pittsburgh of the Southwest.”
I said, “I will take two hundred dollars for Judy, plus one hundred dollars for the ponies and twenty-five dollars for the gray horse that Tom Chaney left. He is easily worth forty dollars. That is three hundred and twenty-five dollars total.”
“The ponies have no part in this,” said he. “I will not buy them.”
“Then I will keep the ponies and the price for Judy will be three hundred and twenty-five dollars.”
Stonehill snorted. “I would not pay three hundred and twenty-five dollars for winged Pegasus, and that splayfooted gray does not even belong to you.”
I said, “Yes, he does. Papa only let Tom Chaney have the use of him.”
“My patience is wearing thin. You are an unnatural child. I will pay two hundred and twenty-five dollars and keep the gray horse. I don’t want the ponies.”
“I cannot settle for that.”
“This is my last offer. Two hundred and fifty dollars. For that I get a release and I keep your father’s saddle. I am also writing off a feed and stabling charge. The gray horse is not yours to sell.”
“The saddle is not for sale. I will keep it. Lawyer Daggett can prove the ownership of the gray horse. He will come after you with a writ of replevin.”
“All right, now listen very carefully as I will not bargain further. I will take the ponies back and keep the gray horse and settle for three hundred dollars. Now you must take that or leave it and I do not much care which it is.”
I said, “I am sure Lawyer Daggett would not wish me to consider anything under three hundred and twenty-five dollars. What you get for that is everything except the saddle and you get out of a costly lawsuit as well. It will go harder if Lawyer Daggett makes the terms as he will include a generous fee for himself.”
“Lawyer Daggett! Lawyer Daggett! Who is this famous pleader of whose name I was happily ignorant ten minutes ago?”
I said, “Have you ever heard of the Great Arkansas River, Vicksburg & Gulf Steamship Company?”
“I have done business with the G.A.V.&G.,” said he.
“Lawyer Daggett is the man who forced them into receivership,” said I. “They tried to ‘mess’ with him. It was a feather in his cap. He is on familiar terms with important men in Little Rock. The talk is he will be governor one day.”
“Then he is a man of little ambition,” said Stonehill, “incommensurate with his capacity for making mischief. I would rather be a country road overseer in Tennessee than governor of this benighted state. There is more honor in it.”
“If you don’t like it here you should pack your traps and go back where you came from.”
“Would that I could get out from under!” said he. “I would be aboard the Friday morning packet with a song of thanksgiving on my lips.”
“People who don’t like Arkansas can go to the devil!” said I. “What did you come here for?”
“I was sold a bill of goods.”
“Three hundred and twenty-five dollars is my figure.”
“I would like to have that in writing for what it is worth.” He wrote out a short agreement. I read it over and made a change or two and he initialed the changes. He said, “Tell your lawyer to send the letter to me here at Stonehill’s Livery Stable. When I have it in my hand I will remit the extortion money. Sign this.”
I said, “I will have him send the letter to me at the Monarch boardinghouse. When you give me the money I will give you the letter. I will sign this instrument when you have given me twenty-five dollars as a token of your good faith.” Stonehill gave me ten dollars and I signed the paper.
I went to the telegraph office. I tried to keep the message down but it took up almost a full blank setting forth the situation and what was needed. I told Lawyer Daggett to let Mama know I was well and would be home soon. I forget what it cost.
I bought some crackers and a piece of hoop cheese and an apple at a grocery store and sat on a nail keg by the stove and had a cheap yet nourishing lunch. You know what they say, “Enough is as good as a feast.” When I had finished eating I returned to Stonehill’s place and tried to give the apple core to one of the ponies. They all shied away and would have nothing to do with me or my gift. The poor things had probably never tasted an apple. I went inside the stock barn out of the wind and lay down on some oat sacks. Nature tells us to rest after meals and people who are too busy to heed that inner voice are often dead at the age of fifty years.
Stonehill came by on his way out wearing a little foolish Tennessee hat. He stopped and looked at me.
I said, “I am taking a short nap.”
He said, “Are you quite comfortable?”
I said, “I wanted to get out of the wind. I figured you would not mind.”