“Never mind the spelling. Read it!” urged Miss Briggs.
“And it reads as follows,” continued Hippy.
“‘Dear Folks: You’ll be surprised to hear from me, and more so to hear that I’m in Dutch. I’m in the hands of a gang of ruffians—gentlemen—’ The word ruffians has been crossed out and the word gentlemen added,” explained Hippy.
“You are the most aggravating person I ever knew. Will you please read that letter or let me do it for you?” begged Miss Briggs.
“‘They caught me with a rope when I wasn’t looking, down by the round-up, and I’ve stayed caught. They know that I’m valuable and they want a price for me,’” continued Hippy, reading Stacy’s scrawl with considerable difficulty. “‘If they don’t get it they propose to throw me off the mountain into the red gulch just back of the cabin that I’m in. They want five hundred dollars for me and you’re to send it by the birds that they are going to send with this letter. Put only one bill on each bird’s leg because they’re union birds and won’t carry a man-sized load. I don’t know how or where they got the birds, but they’ve got ’em. I know because I’ve seen ’em. When they get the money they are going to take me to the foothills and kick me out, but if they don’t get it I’m to go out the way I told you. Please hurry. I haven’t had a square meal since I got tangled up with that fellow’s rope, but the scenery certainly is fine up here. Help! Help! Help!
“(Signed) ‘Lovingly, Stacy.’”
“It’s from Chunky!”
“‘P.S. If you try to find me they say they will throw me over anyway. If you haven’t big enough bills, for the love of heaven keep on sending small ones so long as the birds hold out, but send them!’
“‘P.P.S. The beans they are feeding me on up here are awful, but the coffee is worse. S.B.’