A Mysterious Visit

A Mysterious Visit

The first notice that was taken of me when I

an assessor, and connected with the U. S. Internal Revenue Department. I said I had never heard of his

branch of business before, but I was very glad to see him all the same. Would he sit down? He sat down. I

did

not

know

anything

particular

to

say,

and

yet

I

felt

that

people

who

have

arrived

at

the

dignity

of

keeping house must be conversational, must be easy and sociable in company. So, in default of anything

else to say, I asked him if he was opening his shop in our neighborhood.

He said he was. [I did not wish to appear ignorant, but I had hoped he would mention what he had for

sale.]

I ventured to ask him

I

then

said

we

would

drop

in,

and

if

we

liked

his

house

as

well

as

any

other,

we

would

give

him

our

business.

He said he thought we would like his establishment well enough to confine ourselves to it

—

said he never

saw anybody who would go off and hunt up another man in his line after trading with him once.

That sounded pretty complacent, but barring that natural expression of villainy which we all have, the man

looked honest enough.

I

do

not

know

how

it

came

about

exactly,

but

gradually

we

appeared

to

melt

down

and

run

together,

conversationally speaking, and then everything went along as comfortably as clockwork.

We talked, and talked, and talked

—

at least I did; and we laughed, and laughed, and laughed

—

at least he

did. But all the time I had my presence of mind about me

—

I had my native shrewdness turned on

head,

as

the

engineers

say.

I

was

determined

to

find

out

all

about

his

business

in spite

of

his

obscure

answers

—

and I was determined I would have it out of him without his suspecting what I was at. I meant

to trap him with a deep, deep ruse. I would tell him all about my own business, and he would naturally so

warm to me during this seductive burst of confidence that he would forget himself, and tell me all about

his affairs before he suspected what I was about. I thought to myself, My son, you little know what an old

fox you are dealing with. I said:

—don’t believe I could, to save me. Let me see—

let me see. About two thousand dollars, maybe? But

no; no, sir, I know you couldn't have made that much. Say seventeen hundred, maybe?

seven hundred and fifty dollars. What do you think of that?

Why

bless

you,

there was

my

income

from

the

Daily

Warwhoop

for

four

months

—

about

about

well, what should you say to about eight thousand dollars, for instance?

thousand! I'll make a note of it. Why man!

—

and on top of all this am I to understand that you had still

more income?

price $$3.50 to $$5, according to the binding. Listen to me. Look me in the eye. During the last four months

and a half, saying nothing of sales before that, but just simply during the four months and a half, we've

sold ninety- five thousand copies of that book. Ninety-five thousand! Think of it. Average four dollars a

copy, say. It's nearly four hundred thousand dollars, my son. I get half.

suffering

Moses!

I'll

set

that

down.

Fourteen-seven- fifty

—

eighty-two

hundred.

Total,

say

—

well,

upon

my

word,

the

grand

total

is

about

two

hundred

and

thirteen

or

fourteen

thousand

dollars!

Is

that

possible?

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