Chapter 1
He had graduated in the shortest time and the youngest in the records
of the noted Poughkeepsie Business College. The bill for his course was
one hundred and ten dollars, for farming at the Pennsylvania homestead
where his chores were exacting and his labor in the fields consisted of
'geeing and hawing' the big red oxen when hitched to pine saw-logs in
the forest, or to the plow and harrow in the new clearing, and he was
anxious to change environment.
Horace
Greeley's name still loomed large in American affairs, and his 'young
man go west' was an inspiration for every boy who hoped to be one to
help make his country great. Besides, West meant buffalo and Indians,
and cheap land without stumps and ready for the plow. But there was no
money to buy railroad tickets and it was a long way. So Mudge McCracken
greased his boots, donned his blue serge suit over his one white shirt
and paper collar, tucked his gold-sealed college diploma under his arm
and walked to town; his errand was to try to get a job to earn some
money to go west.
Tied to the hitching rack in front of the
Fuller store were saddle horses and farm teams while under the porch
covering the wooden sidewalk, sat the proprietor on an empty dry-goods
box industriously chewing tobacco and answering a farmer's question
about the coming elections, between spits. As the farmer turned away,
Mudge advanced hesitatingly and addressed the proprietor t know if he
might get a position in his store. "How old are you and what do you
know about storekeeping?" was the reply following a squirt of tobacco
juice which landed squarely on a horse's hoof clear of the walk. "I'm
past seventeen, and I have a diploma; here it is, sir"; and the
merchant unfolded it to gaze upon the mysterious document, the like of
which he had never seen before. Then he continued; "are you John's
son?"---and being informed that he was, the job was settled and to
begin next day with $20 a month salary.
The store was a
substantial brick 40X100 of two story with annex occupying the street
corner, in which the bank was located. The stock comprised general
merchandise needful in a country of that period, and ranged all the way
from laces and ribbons, calico, dress goods, clothing, boots and shoes,
to groceries, flour and feed, hardware and farm machinery. Mudge was
put to work amongst the molasses barrels, salt-meats, cracker-and-sugar
barrels, cross-cut saws and plow points, axes, grain-cradles and
hay-rakes, with specific instructions to have the entire store swept
out before opening time each morning at seven. There was a side door
connecting the store and bank, through which, in slack moments, Mudge
went in to have little visits with the genial cashier who had
proprietary interest in and operated the private institution; often it
was convenient to help him balance the books and count the cash; soon
it became a habit. Graduating from the flour-and-vinegar section of the
store to the silk-and-lace department was the matter of six weeks, and
another month found Mudge as assistant cashier in the bank; same salary,
but more congenial duties to perform, and of far more interest and
importance; to have the evenings off to go walking with a certain young
lady who lived a mile away in the upper town. Hal, which was only part
of her first name, was sixteen, and stood at the top, both in looks and
reputation. At an early day, she had grinned at the little country boy
who delivered a bag of apples at her house, and it made him blush.
Later when Mudge had gained a reputation as the best speller in the
countryside, she appeared on the opposite side at a spelling bee, and,
in due time the long lines of opposing contestants melted away, leaving
her his only competitor for the prize. It was a long hard fight, and
she won. Then, to heap coals of fire on his already burning
indignation, she conspired with the winning side to form a ring
outside, for the usual game of 'tap', and when the fifty joined hands
for the popular game in the moonlight, she, like the gladiator waving
his sword over the fallen foe, watching for 'thumbs up or thumbs down'
as signal from the crowd, boldly 'tapped' him, and ran, intending to
sink forever, his claims to the championship as best speller, but in
that she lost. In spite of her desperate struggles, she got kissed; nor
was that kiss a common tap-ring variety or a movie kind; it was one
that lasted for more than fifty years, and still lasts. And then her
family moved away where she had to attend an academy.
The Main
Street village stretched its crooked way up and down; for two miles up
town and one mile down town, and as Mudge boarded at the end of
up-town, it became one of his duties to serve the bank's customers
along the way to and from work; it was a convenience to them and new
ones were found to increase the bank's business, and it grew to
sizeable importance in the town. One day a telegram came to announce
the death of a relative of the cashier in another state, and Mudge
found himself sole manager of the bank during his absence of a week or
ten days. It was a strenuous time for an eighteen year old, but that
was trivial compared to the disappointment from the cancellation of his
trip to commencement exercises at the Academy town.
Time dragged
for another year; the bank-partner came to announce that he had sold
his Colorado cattle ranch, and would devote attention to the bank,
merely for something to do in his retirement. His stories of his own
western experiences set the mind of Mudge aflame to go and do likewise;
was a letter of recommendation forthcoming? It was. A short note to Hal
telling her of the determination to go west, and wishing her a number
one mark in spelling, in her high station; a ticket to the end of track
on the frontier, a lunch-basket and extra suit of heavy clothes in the
suit-case, saw Mudge on the afternoon train headed west.
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