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Updated: June 2, 2025
With Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet the month that Hiram had been laid up had developed a new and unforeseen situation. He laid the particulars before Jerkline Jo and Hiram, both investors in his enterprise. The conference took place when Jo's freight outfit jingled into Ragtown two days later.
Behind him, Hiram Hooker stood awkwardly looking at the girl he had traveled six hundred miles to work for. "Madam," said his companion, "if you are Jerkline Jo, permit me to introduce myself and my friend. I am Mr. Tweet Playmate Tweet Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet. My friend and companion in arms is Hiram Hooker, from the virgin forests of Wild-cat Hill.
"Well, if you can drive jerkline," she said, "there's no doubt but that you will be a pleasant addition to our little family. I'm happy to meet you, Mr. "Playmate Tweet Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet." "What?" "Orr Tweet Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet," patiently repeated Mr. Tweet. "Are you trying to be funny?" The dark eyes narrowed dangerously. "I am funny," corrected Mr. Tweet. "I can't help it.
Heine's been lying like a sailor. I believe I'll drive over to Julia tomorrow and see what I can find out." "Sit down, Heine," invited Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet, rising and lowering the window shade in his little pine office as the jerkline skinner entered. Heine accepted. "Well?" queried Tweet, with a look of worriment in his face.
Five minutes later Hiram and the girl were alone in the anteroom once more. Hiram took the hands of Jerkline Jo and bent over her. "Ma'am," he drawled whimsically, "if you'll let me, I'll kiss you now!" Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet paced back and forth in his little pine office, his hands behind his back, his brows furrowed.
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