CHAPTER IV. Kilo
The next evening Jim Wilkins, landlord of the Kilo House and proprietorof the Kilo Livery, Feed and Sale Stable, was sitting in front of hishotel, with his chair tipped back against the wall, trading bits ofindolent gossip with Pap Briggs, when Eliph' Hewlitt drove his horseIrontail down Main Street, and pulled up before the hotel. Pap Briggshad not swallowed his store teeth; he had not even worn them to bed, andMiss Sally found them on top of the pump in the back yard, where Pap haddoubtless put them when he went to pump himself a drink. He often lostthem, as he wore them more for ornament than for use, and commonlyremoved them when he wished to talk, eat, or laugh. It was Sally whomade him buy them, and he wore them more for her sake than for anyother reason, and he was always uncomfortable with them, for they werea plain, unmistakable misfit, and felt, as he said, "like I got mymouth full o' tenpenny nails." When out of Sally's sight he avoidedthis feeling by carrying them in his hand, hidden in his red bandanahandkerchief. About town he used to show them with a great deal ofpride, and openly boasted of their cost and beauty. On Sunday he worethem all day.
Whenever Eliph' Hewlitt drove into a town he looked about with a seeingeye, for he had learned to judge the capacity of a place for Jarby'sEncyclopedia by the appearance of the town, but as he drove into Kilohe was more than usually interested. If this was the home of Miss SallyBriggs, it followed that when he had completed his courtship, and hadwon her affections and held them, it would be his home, also, and he wascurious to see whether it was a town he would like or not like. He likedit. It was a real American town, and it looked like a good businesstown, because there could be no possible reason for people building atown on that particular situation unless it was for business.
The town was built on a flat space, and the country was flat on allsides of it. It was on no river, brook, or creek. It was as unbeautifulin location as it was in architecture. It was just a homely, common,busy little Iowa village, and even so late in the evening it was as hotas Sahara; but Eliph' Hewlitt knew it at once for a good town, forthe street was knee deep in dust, which meant much trade, and the fourbuildings at the corners of Main and Cross Streets were of brick, whichmeant profitable business. There were a couple of other brick buildingson Main Street, and one or two with "tin" fronts, and of the otherbusiness places only one or two were so ramshackle that they lookedas if their firmer neighbors were holding them up, letting the weakerstructures lean against them as a strong man might support an invalid.
Eliph' Hewlitt liked the town; it was just his idea of what a townshould be, not much as to style, but business-like. There were two fullblocks of Main Street devoted to business, and nearly half a block ofCross Street was given over to the same purpose, and the dwellings werewell scattered over the surrounding level tract. Three or four of thedwellings "out Main Street" had conspicuous lawns that had felt theblades of a lawn mower, but most of the yards were merely grass, withflower beds filled with the more hardy kinds of flowers, such as wouldgrow tall and show over the top of the surrounding grass. The plankwalks, which on Main and Cross Streets were made of boards laidcrossways, tapered down into narrow walks with the boards--two ofthem--laid lengthways very soon after the stores were passed, and alittle farther out became dirt paths along the fences, and beyond thatpedestrians were supposed to walk on the road. But most of the houseswere painted, either freshly, or at least not anciently.
The corner of Main and Cross Streets, the business center of Kilo, waslike the business centers of other small country towns. A long hitchingrail extended at the side of the street before the buildings on eachcorner, and the dirt beneath was worn away by the scraping of the feetof the many horses that had been tied to the rails. Just below thecorner, on Cross Street, were other holes worn by tossing horseshoes atpegs, which, if America was composed of small towns only, would be ournational game.
It was a good little town, and Eliph' Hewlitt was pleased.
On one of the corners of Main Street stood the Kilo Hotel, and before itEliph' checked the slow gait of Irontail.
Jim Wilkins, the landlord, tipped his chair forward, and got out of itwith a grunt of laziness.
"Hotel running?" asked Eliph' Hewlitt briskly.
"You might call it runnin' if you wasn't dictionary--particular what youcalled it," said the landlord. "If you had to keep it you'd more likelysay it was tryin' to learn to walk. But it's open for business. Wantyour rig put up?"
"Yes," admitted Eliph'. "I've had my supper."
"That's all right," said the landlord cheerfully. "I'm sort of glad ofit; save the old lady gittin' up a meal. I was just tellin' Pap Briggshere that I figgered Kilo had the hottest mean summer temperature, andthe meanest hot summer temperature on earth, and it's hotter over akitchen stove than anywheres else. We generally have cold suppers inthis here hotel, unless some guest happens in. Hey, S. Potts! Come hereand git this feller's horse!"
The livery stable was convenient, just around the corner on CrossStreet, and S. Potts came lankly and lazily around the corner. He stoodand looked at Irontail a minute critically, and then felt the horse'shocks and shook his head at the result of his investigation. Then heopened Irontail's mouth and looked at his teeth.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he said, and he called around the corner, "Hey,Daniel!" and from the livery stable came a very old man.
"Look at this," said S. Potts, opening Irontail's mouth again, andDaniel looked and shook his head, as S. Potts had done.
"And feel this," said S. Potts, putting his hand on Irontail's hockagain. Daniel felt as he was told, and again shook his head.
"Now, what do you make of that?" asked S. Potts triumphantly.
"I dunno what to make of it, S. Potts," said the old man, shaking hishead. "What do you make of it?"
The landlord broke in upon the conversation with sudden energy.
"Look here," he said, "you git that horse around to the stable, and shutup," and S. Potts and Daniel hastily clambered into the buggy and drovearound the corner.
"I wonder if anything's the matter with my horse?" said Eliph'.
"Matter?" laughed Jim Wilkins. "That's just S. Potts tryin' to show offbefore strangers, like he always does. He don't mean no harm, but hecan't be satisfied to just come around and git a horse and lead it tothe stable. He's got to draw attention to hisself or he ain't happy.He's harmless, but he's just naturally one of the know-it-all-kind, andhe's got to show off."
There is no man in a small town who can give such a satisfying andofficial welcome to a stranger as that given by the liveryman, andwhen the landlord of the hotel and the owner of the livery stable arecombined in one man he is better than a reception committee composed ofthe mayor and the leading citizens. He is glad to see the stranger, andhe lets him know it. He has a gruff, hearty, and not too servile manner,and a way of speaking of the men of the town and the farmers of thesurrounding country as if he owned them. Having bought horses of many ofthem, he knows their bad traits, and he has an air of knowing much morethan he would willingly tell regarding them. He is not inquisitiveabout the stranger's business, and is willing to give him information.Probably it is his trade of buying and selling and renting horses thatgives him such a flavor of his own, for he knows that the horses helets out on livery are often as intelligent as the men who hire them.He comes as near the chivalric model of the old Southern planter as aNorthern business man can, but his slaves are horses, and his overseerthe hostler. He is a man in authority, even though is authority is overhorses.
Modern civilization has few finer sights and sounds than the liverymanwhen he is asked if he has a horse he can let out for a ten-mile driveinto the country. He looks at the supplicant doubtfully; "Well, Idunno," he says, "where was it you wanted to drive to?" He receives theanswer with a non-committal air. "That's nearer fourteen mile than ten,"he says and then turns to the hostler. "Say, Potts, Billy's out, ain'the?" Potts growls out the answer, "Doc Weaver's got him out. Won't beback till seven." The liveryman pulls slowly at his cigar, and runs
hishand over his hair. "How's the bay mare's hoof today?" he asks. Pottsshakes his head. "That's right," says the liveryman, "it don't do totake no chances with a hoof like that. And we haven't got a thing elsein the barn except that black horse, have we, Potts?" "Everything elseout," says Potts. The liveryman walks away a few steps, and then turnssuddenly. "Hitch up the black, Potts," he says, with an air of suddenrecklessness. "Put him in that light, side-bar buggy of Doc Weaver's.Want a hitching strap? Put in a hitching strap, Potts. AND that newwhip."
The result is that you get the horse and buggy the liveryman intendedyou to have from the minute he saw you coming toward him down thestreet, but you get it with a fine touch of style that is worth much inthis dollar and cent world. Potts drives the rig around to where youare standing, and the liveryman sends Potts back to get a clean laprobeinstead of the one that is in the buggy. He pats the horse on the neckas you climb in, and as you pick up the reins he says, as if conferringa parting favor that money could not repay, "Keep a fair tight rein onhim; it's the first time he has been out of the stable to-day."
Eliph' Hewlitt, in his travels, had learned the value of the liveryman.He used him as friend and directory. None else could tell him so wellwhere the prosperous farmers lived, nor who was most likely to fall avictim to Jarby's Encyclopedia in the town itself. From the liverymanhe could learn which minister, if there were more than one, would be thebest to have head his list of subscribers, which lady was head of theSociety, and what society she was head of. He took one of the chairsthat were ranged along the side of the hotel, and laid his sample acrosshis knees. He chose the chair that was next to Pap Briggs, for he wasready to become acquainted with the man he intended soon to have for afather-in-law.
"Nice town you got here," he said.
"She's purty good," agreed Pap, "except for taxes. Taxes is eternalhigh, and it's all us propputy owners can do to keep 'em from goin'clean out o' sight. City council don't seem to care a dumb how high theygit. I wish't I'd stayed on my farm."
"Taxes ain't so high here as what they are in Jefferson, Pap," suggestedthe landlord. "If you lived down there they'd make you holler, allright."
"Well, Jim," said Pap, "they ain't much choice. If these here youngfellers git their way taxes will go right up. What do they want todecorate this here town all up for, anyhow? What you think young Toolewas sayin' to me to-day? He was sayin' it was a disgrace to Kilo to havethe public square rented out an' a crop o' buckwheat growin' in it. Hesays we ought to plant it in grass an' stick a fountain in the middle.But that's the way she goes; anything to raise up the taxes. All I saysto him was, 'All right, who'll pump water to make the fountain squirt?Suppose the taxpayers 'll take turns, hey?'"
"Well," said the landlord, "I ain't in favor of a fountain, myself. Ireckon a nice piece of statuary would look better, so long as we ain'tgot water works to make the fountain fount out water. But it don't lookright to have a public square rented out to grow buckwheat in. It ain'tcity-like."
"It brings in seven dollars a year to the town," said Pap, "an' that'sbetter than payin' out good money for statuary. I'm agin high taxesevery time. It costs too much to live, anyhow, especially when you'vegot a daughter to support, and no money comin' in, to speak of. And justwhen some does come in, along comes a pesky book agent or somethin'and fools the women out of the money. They ought to be a law agin bookagent. City council ought to put a license on 'em, and keep 'em out oftown."
"Some towns," he said softly, "do have licenses against book agents.One of the relics of the dark ages, but abolished wherever the lighto' culture is loved and esteemed. What so helpful as the book? What socomforting? What so uplifting? And who but the book agent carries helpand comfort and uplift, and leaves it scattered around, one dollar downand one dollar a month until paid; who but the humble but useful bookagent? To mention but one book, Jarby's Encyclopedia of Knowledge andCompendium of Literature, Science and Art has carried wisdom into amillion homes, making each better and brighter. It is a book that makesthe toil of the day easy, by giving one thousand and one hints andhelps, and that sweetens rest after toil, by quotations from all theworld's great authors. In this one book----"
Pap Briggs had put his hands on the arm of his chair, preparing to runaway, but the landlord leaned forward and looked in Eliph' Hewlitt'sface.
"Say," he said, "is your name Mills?"
"Hewlitt," said the book agent, "Eliph' Hewlitt."
He turned to the landlord and looked him fairly in the face, and ashe looked the air of suspicion that had suddenly shone in his eyesvanished.
"Jim Wilkins!" he exclaimed. "Isn't it Jim Wilkins?"
"Ain't it!" cried the landlord. "Well, I should say it is! And to think,you little, sawed-off propagator of human knowledge didn't recognizeyour old side pardner in the field of sellin' improvin' andintellectooal works of genius! Don't say you don't remember the 'Wage ofSin,' Sammy! Don't say you don't remember Kitty!"
"Kitty?" asked Eliph' doubtfully.
"Well, if the little red-head ain't forgot Kitty!" exclaimed Wilkins."Why, I MARRIED Kitty, Sammy. For an actual, truthful fact I did. And tothink I should run across Sammy Mills after all these years."
"Hewlitt," said Eliph'. "Eliph' Hewlitt is that name I'm known by."
"And to think you stuck by that name all these years!" said Wilkins."And still sellin' works of literatoor, are you? Pap, this is my oldboyhood's chum come meanderin' backwards out of the past. And stillsellin' books! Well, I don't want to discourage your ambitiousness, butI guess you've struck Kilo about the worst time in the century. Everhear of a literary writer called Sir Walter Scott? Well, sir, Kilo ischuck full of Sir Walter; full as a goat. She ain't begun to near gitthrough with Sir Walter yet, and I don't figger she'll take in no morelibraries just now. Sir Walter hit her pretty hard."
"Ten volumes, fifteen dollars cloth, twenty dollars half morocco?"inquired Eliph' Hewlitt.
"The identical same," said the landlord. "I purchased a group of SirWalters in red leather myself. So did everybody in Kilo; at least Iain't found anybody that's been missed yet. Paper here got some."
"My daughter Sally----" began the old man.
"Same thing," said Wilkins; "you pay just the same if you bought thebooks. Why, Sammy, there's enough Sir Walter right here in Kilo now tostart up a book business. Kilo's light on literatoor generally, but whenshe goes in, she goes in heavy. There ain't many towns where you'll findevery livin' soul ready to swaller down fifteen dollars worth of SirWalter Scott, two dollars down and one dollar a month until paid; butI calculate them ten volumes will last Kilo quite a spell, and if worstcomes to worst she won't buy no more literatoor till she gits paid up onSir Walter. I figger from my own sense of feelin's that about the worsttime to sell a feller books is when he is still payin' once a month onthe old lot. About the second time the collector drops in to collect ona set of works of literatoor, a man feels like he had been foolish, buthe grins cheerful, and pays up, but if another man drops in about thento sell another set of the world's great masterpieces it is pretty nearan insult to human intelligence."
Eliph' Hewlitt drew his hand across his whiskers and coughed gently.
"They told me in Jefferson," he said softly, "that Kilo was the mostintellectual town in central Iowa."
"Everybody says the same," said Wilkins with a touch of pride. "The SirWalter Scott man said it, and I guess it's so. But there's other thingsbesides books. Kilo may be strong and willin' on books, but she's strongother ways, too, and just now she is lookin' at another kind of horse,and that's why I say you've miscalculated your comin'. If I was you I'dgo elsewhere and come back later. Kilo has got more books now than shecan handle without straining something, and just now her mind's off onanother tack. We struck a big missionary revival here last week, andyou can bet a wager that every dollar that goes out of Kilo these days,except what goes for dues on Sir Walter, is goin' for the brethren. Thewomen folks is havin' a sale this very evenin' to raise cash to help theheathen."
Eliph' H
ewlitt arose from his chair and tucked the oilcloth-coveredparcel that had been lying on his knees under his left arm. He was asmall man, and his movements were apt to be short and jerky.
"Missionary sale?" he said briskly. "I guess I'll go around and lookin on it. Strangers welcome, I suppose? I'm rather fond of missionarysales, and I think the world and all of the heathen. Think the ladieswould like to see a stranger?"
Wilkins grinned.
"Pap," he said, "what you think? Think they'll fall on his neck if hehas any money? From what I have experienced of them sales I figger tocalculate that anybody that is anxious to buy gingham aprons an' sofapillows is sure to be took by the hand and given a front seat. I'd goaround with you, but I've got my taxes to pay, like Pap here, andI don't actually need any pink tidies. It ain't far; just up to DocWeaver's; two blocks up, and you can't miss the house. It's the yellermansion, this side the road, an' the gate's off the hinges and laid upalongside the fence. But I guess if them's your samples in that therepackage, you might as well leave them here."
But Eliph' Hewlitt did not leave them there; he tucked them under hisarm, and hurried away with brisk little steps.
Kilo : being the love story of Eliph' Hewlitt, book agent Page 4