with rice and Congress gaiters. But don’t let’s tie so many satin bows on our business relations that we lose sight of ’em. How about my honorarium?”
“‘Missis Mills,’ says he, ‘has taken possession of my money and papers except six bits. I told her what I’d agreed to give you; but she says it’s an irreligious and illegal contract, and she won’t pay a cent of it. But I ain’t going to see you treated unfair,’ says he. ‘I’ve got eighty-seven saddles on the ranch what I’ve bought on this trip; and when I get back I’m going to pick out the best six in the lot and send’em to you.’”
“And did he?” I asked, when Lucullus ceased talking.
“He did. And they are fit for kings to ride on. The six he sent me must have cost him three thousand dollars. But where is the market for ’em? Who would buy one except one of these rajahs and princes of Asia and Africa? I’ve got ’em all on the list. I know every tan royal dub and smoked princerino from Mindanao to the Caspian Sea.”
“It’s a long time between customers,” I ventured.
“They’re coming faster,” said Polk. “Nowadays, when one of the murdering mutts gets civilised enough to abolish suttee and quit using his whiskers for a napkin, he calls himself the Roosevelt of the East, and comes over to investigate our Chautauquas and cocktails. I’ll place ’em all yet. Now look here.”
From an inside pocket he drew a tightly folded
