Having dispatched this missive, Ug waited quietly, and with assurance. From time to time he glanced at the Atlantic Fleet, and reflected with pride that at a word from him that terrible machinery would be set in motion against that red-headed Duffy man. In eleven days he received a letter—a long, important-looking document with an eagle in the corner. Excitedly he tore it open. It read:
Dear sir: In reply refer to No. 73965435, file 4534, section 23x.
Your communication has been received and will be acted upon in due course.
Chief Clerk of the Chief Clerk,
Department of the Interior.
Ug was not entirely pleased by the letter. He had hoped for a short, firm order to Patrick Duffy that would lead to the immediate restitution of his pig. Then, too, there was something so cool, aloof, impersonal about it, considering that he was a relative of Uncle Sam. He wondered how long “in due course” was. When it proved to be more than two weeks Ug, growing restive, wrote a post card to the Indian commissioner:
Hon. sir: How about my pig?
Your loving son,
George Washington Ug,
Flatfoot Indian.