hearing a rumor to the effect that the lady had died during an absence from Prouty, he wrote "diseased" upon a letter addressed to her, and returned it to the sender.
"I'm goin' to sue you for libel!" was her parting shot at him.
"Like as not she'll do it," said the Major, despondently, and added with bitterness, "I wisht I'd died before I got this post office! Teeters," he continued, impressively, "lemme tell you somethin': anybody can git a post office by writin' a postal card to Washington, but men have gone down to their graves tryin' to git rid of 'em. The only sure way is to heave 'em into the street and jump out o' the country between sundown and daylight.
"I've met fellers hidin' in the mountains that I used to think was fugitive murderers—they had all the earmarks—but now I know better; they was runnin' away from third- and fourth-class post offices. If ever you're tempted, remember what I've told you. Anything I can do for you, Teeters?"
Teeters threw out his mail carelessly.
"Just weigh up them letters, will you?"
The name of the head of the Astor family caught the postmaster's eyes and he looked his astonishment.
"I'm expectin' him out next summer," Teeters said casually.
"You don't say?" with a mixture of respect and skepticism. "Visitin'?"
"Not exactly visitin'—he'll pay for stayin'. I'm tellin' you private that I'm goin' to wrangle dudes next season. I made him a good proposition and I think it'll ketch him."
"It would be a good ad. for the country," said the
Major, thoughtfully. "But wouldn't you be afraid he'd get lonesome out there with nobody passin'?"
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