“The postmaster at Sacramento is very obligin’,” was the significant comment of Vose.
Bidwell saw the dangerous ground on which he was treading, and made it safe by a jesting remark and an invitation to Adams and the rest to join him at the bar.
“We was on the subject of Dawson,” remarked Ruggles from his seat, for all had learned long before of the uselessness of inviting him to drink; “and it’s the opinion of Vose, I understand, that it was the letter that has made the change in him.”
“There ain’t any doubt about it,” said Adams; “fur the attack took him right after; I noticed the difference in him the next day. He sets by himself these evenings after the little gal has gone to bed, smoking his pipe, without any light in his shanty, and thinking hard.”
Wade smoked thoughtfully a minute and then remarked:
“I wonder whether it wouldn’t be a good idee to app’int a committee to wait on Dawson and ask him what the blazes is the matter and whether we can’t do nothin’ to make a man of him agin.”
Since Ruggles had become accustomed to act as chairman at the discussions in the Heavenly Bower, he had developed a strong faith in committees.
“That’s a piece of the most onspeakable foolishness 94 that I’ve run aginst since I settled in New Constantinople,” observed the landlord with a contemptuous sniff; “the minute the committee arrove and stated their bus’ness, Dawson would kick ’em out of his shanty and clean across the street, and he’d be lacking in the instincts of a man if he didn’t do that same thing.”
“Mr. Ortigies forgits that I didn’t mean to suggest that he was to be a member of the committee; I meant they should be gentlemen; consequently that bars him out and there wouldn’t be no trouble.”
“I understand your sarcasm, Wade, but your words would leave you off the committee likewise; but may I ask what the members would ask him when they knocked at his door?”