runnin' down to the depo but Sam Nugent wantin' to send a errent by me to
Washington. He wunk me out to one side of the waitin' room, and ast "if I'd
try to git him a license to steal horses."

It kinder runs in the blood of the Nugents to love to steal, and he owned
up it did, but he said he wanted the profit of it. But I told him I
wouldn't do any sech thing, an' I looked at him in such a witherin' way
that I should most probable withered him, only he is blind in one side, and
I wuz on the blind side, but he argued with me, and said that it wuz no
worse than to give licenses for other kinds of meanness.

He said they give licenses now to steal--steal folkses senses away, and
then they could steal everything else, and murder and tear round into every
kind of wickedness. But he didn't ask that. He wanted things done fair and
square: he jest wanted to steal horses. He wuz goin' West, and he thought
he could do a good bizness, and lay up somethin'. If he had a license he
shouldn't be afraid of bein' shet up or shot.

But I refused the job with scorn; and jest as I wuz refusin', the cars
snorted, and I wuz glad they did. They seemed to express in that wild snort
something of the indignation I felt.

The idee!




III

"POLLY'S EYES CROWED TENDER"