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They remind me of the gang in the billiard-room back home. The billiard-roomers the chronic ones don't have any business, either, except to keep the dust from collectin' on the chairs. That and talkin' about hard times. These chaps don't seem to be sufferin' from hard times, much." "No. Most of the younger set have rich fathers or have inherited money." "I see.
"He was a gentleman of leisure travellin' for his health afore he got into the toils o' the law. His real name is Marmaduke Fitztappington De Wolfe, of Pelhamhurst-by-the-Sea, Warwickshire. He landed in this country of a Tuesday, took to collectin' souvenir spoons of a Friday, was jugged the same day, tried, convicted, and there he sets. In for two years more." "How interesting!" I said.
The young man must ha' taken a basketful into the church. Some he put into the pews, some into the collectin' boxes, some under the cushions you never knew where you were going to find 'em next!" "That was a blackguardly thing to do," I said. "The man who did it deserves the cat." "So he does," said Johnny. "But I can tell yer, it's made us more partikler ever since.
In her mittened hands the stranger carried a package. Sight of it caused the matron to stare. Her wonder grew as the woman handed it to her. "If you please, ma'am," blurted forth the stranger, red with embarrassment, "I hope you won't feel hard towards me. I know I oughtta come to you before. My husband found this here package in a rubbish can. He works for the town, collectin' rubbish.
He thinks he's doin' a great sarvice to th' worruld collectin' all th' money in sight. It might remain in incompetint hands if he didn't get it. 'Twud be a shame to lave it where it'd be misthreated. But th' on'y throuble with Jawn is that he don't see how th' other fellow feels about it. As a father iv about thirty dollars I want to bring thim up mesilf in me own foolish way.
"It's better to strike than to get fired. We beat 'em to it, that's all, an' we catch 'em before they're ready. Don't we know what they're doin'? They're collectin' gradin'-camp drivers an' mule-skinners all up an' down the state. They got forty of 'em, feedin' 'em in a hotel in Stockton right now, an' ready to rush 'em in on us an' hundreds more like 'em.
Ball, "if one of 'em falls behind in his grocery bill, for example, he can always get money from Job. Job takes a mortgage, but he don't often close down on 'm. And Job has been collectin' credentials in Avalon County for upward of forty years." "Collecting credentials?" "Yes. Gets a man nominated to State and county conventions that can't go, and goes himself with a bunch of credentials.
They's some folks goes loony about chickens, an' hosses, an' fancy dogs, but this here kind o' collectin' 's only fer millionaires. They's more difficult t' pick than a lucky race-hoss. They's barrels o' that stuff in them houses, that looked jes' as good as them there, but nowheres as valible."
"Jed," she said, "Captain Hunniwell was just here with you; I saw him go. Tell me, what was he talking about?" Jed was confused. "Why why, Mrs. Ruth," he stammered, "he was just talkin' about about a note he'd been collectin', and and such." "Wasn't he speaking of his daughter and and my brother?" This time Jed actually gasped. Ruth drew a long breath. "I knew it," she said.
Better write out a permanent permit for Jo, and do away with this collectin' back and forth and only breakin' even." The truck man was so angry he scarcely could contain himself. "It's a dirty, rotten deal!" he said between gritted teeth. "And this is only part of it.
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