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Updated: May 11, 2025
Claire Boltwood, of Brooklyn Heights, went through the shanty streets of Pellago, Montana, at one A.M. carrying a sandwich in a paper bag which had recently been used for salted peanuts, and a red rubber hot-water bag filled with water at the Alaska Café. At the Tavern she hastened past the office door.
Wishing to know much a family of six consumed in a year, we inquired the yield of their property. They answered, twenty small barrels of wine, and ten of oil. It was nearly sunset when we reached Pellago, and the wet walk and coarse fare we were obliged to take on the road, well qualified us to enjoy the excellent supper the pleasant landlady gave us.
In stupid paralysis she kicked at the door of the galvanized-iron-covered garage. No answer. She gave it up. She drove down the street and into the yard of a hotel marked by a swing sign out over the plank sidewalk. She got out the traveling bags, awakened her father, led him up on the porch. The Pellago Tavern was a transformed dwelling house.
But What fun that morning was at Pellago, was it? Heavens, I'm forgetting those beastly little towns already that place where we hazed the poor landlady who overcharged me." "Yes." He was thinking of how much Claire would forget, now. "Yes. We certainly fixed her, all right. Uh did you get the storage check for your car?" "Oh yes, thank you. So nice of you to bother with it."
"Gentlemen of Pellago, I want you to know from one of the poor tourists who have been cheated at this nasty place that we depend on you to do something. This woman and her husband are criminals, in the way they overcharge for hideous food and " The landlady had been petrified. Now she charged down. Behind her came her husband. Milt arose. The husband stopped.
Miserable, weak as a small boy, he had curled up on the bottom of the car, his head on the seat, and gone to sleep. She was alone. The mile-posts went by slowly. The posts said there was a town ahead called Pellago, but it never came And when it did come she was too tired to care. In a thick dream she drove through midnight streets of the town.
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