CHAPTER XXXIX.—JUDGE LYNN HAS AN IDEA
A FEW days later Judge Linus Lynn called at the Patriot office, and Major Hampton looked up from a book he was intently reading as his study was invaded. “Come in, Lynn,” said the major, “and be seated. How are you, anyway?”
“Comfortable, my dear Major, quite comfortable, I assure you,” replied Lynn, as he helped himself to a cigar from an open box.
“That’s right, Judge,” said the major, observing his familiarity; “shall I help you to a light?”
“Thanks,” said Judge Lynn, “I’m always provided with matches, or I’d have you gimme one. I regard it as mighty poor taste for an old smoker like me to always be browzin’ ‘round askin’ his ‘sociates for matches—therefore I’m always supplied.”
“How thoughtful,” observed the major, smiling sarcastically.
“Yes,” replied Lynn, “I claim to be a thoughtful man,—the result of much thinkin’. Don’t look soopercilious an’ disbelievin’, for it’s a fac’. Now, Major, I have an idee.”
“Indeed?” replied the major, as he picked up a pencil. “Let me record it; it is doubtless quite an affair, and should be captured before it gets away from you.”
Judge Lynn appeared to take no notice of the major’s irony, and said: “You see, Major, I’ll onboosom myself enough to tell you that in my pinion honesty will soon be so condemned scarce in this ‘ere mortgage-ridden Southwest, that a feller ‘ll have to use the article itself to deceive the deceivers. Now it’s gettin’ dangnation slow with me, an’ while I’m mighty near worked to death in my office,—feet is, I’m ‘lowin’ I’ll have the brain fag if things don’t let up,—yet it is bringin’ me no ready cash. I’m jest whoopin’ ‘round doin’ a credit bizness. Do you see?”