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Show Rabbits By LIEUT. B. S. BURKETT (McClure Syndicate WNU Service.) SAM THORP chuckled faintly when he slid from his saddle in front of the little post office and general gen-eral store at Mecaha, Montana, about noon on an early autumn morning. He lifted his two jack-rabbits jack-rabbits out of reach of a lanky cat and sauntered to the rear of the building. Otis Green, postmaster and dealer deal-er in general merchandise as well as real estate since the discovery of oil on the Musselshell, glanced up from the pile of mail he was sorting. sort-ing. He grunted a grudging, "Howdy, Sam. Whatcha want to argue about today?" Thorp held up the two jackrabblts. "Two dern fat rabbits been livin' on the ol' lady's lettuce fer a coupla months. But I trapped 'em last night," said Sam. "Need a leetle coffee mighty bad." "Couldn't sell the last ones I bought from you, Sam. But I'll give you twenty-five cents for 'em both." "Uhuh," grunted Sam. "But I jist heerd you paid the Lamb boys twenty-fi' cents apiece fer their rabbits rab-bits an', them half shot to pieces, too." "Best I kin do, Sam. Twenty-five or nothing'." "Well, 'tain't fair. But have to let you take 'em. Dern shame, too. You sell us poor devils gumbo land at oil price. Won't grow nuthin' but rattlesnakes an' sage hens." "Best geologist in the country says there's oil on the land. I ain't supposed to have wells sunk to prove it, am I? Besides, a trade's a trade with me, Sam. When I git stung I take it as my fault. Ain't no use in you bellyachin' now." "Can't raise nuthin' but rabbits in the garden an' now you won't even buy 'em leastwise, pay only half what they's worth." "A deal's a deal. Ain't no business busi-ness jedgment about you, Thorp. We live on suckers lak you owt heah in Montanner. Reckon you'd better go back to kentuck whar you come from." "Thet's what I'm calcerlatin' on. But I can't sell my land . . ." With a sigh Thorp picked up his pound of coffee, shuffled out to his little sorrel and clambered onto the saddle. He chuckled faintly as he clucked to the little horse. Sam had just finished the evening chores when Otis Green jerked his antiquated automobile to a stop at the front gate. "Havin' some men fer breakfast and need a couple more rabbits. Got any? Can pay you 25 cents for these." "Now let me see. Caught three this afternoon. Reckon I might as well let you have two uv 'em. Nice meat, too. But they'll cost you 50 cents. See by the paper the price of rabbits is up a leetle." Otis spat in the dust, swore a blue streak and grabbed up the rabbits. From the front seat, he tossed the money to Sam before ramming his foot on the accelerator. Early next morning, Green and three companions appeared at Sam's cabin. "Air yo' wantin' more rabbits, Green?" chortled Thorp. "Nope. Bigger deal this time," beamed Otis. "I come to buy this one sixty of yours. Got some friends here as witnesses, so we can close the deal right now." I'll give you ten dollars an acre fer the whole one hundred an' sixty." "Didn't I give you $20 an acre before be-fore I fenced 'er and made all improvements?" im-provements?" Sam rasped vehemently. vehe-mently. "Yap, but land ain't what it was during the war, Sam." "It'll take just three times what it cost to buy it back. Sixty dollars an acre and it's yours. Nary cent less." "Yore plum crazy, Sam," Green shouted in a squeaky voice. "You can have 'er fer my price er let 'er go. Ain't carin' which." Green knew Thorp would not come down, so he gave him sixty dollars an acre, paying the purchase price in new shiny bills; Sam was afraid of checks. "We're leavin' fer Kentucky tomorrow, to-morrow, mammy," said Sam, as he folded the bills with precision. Green glanced at the other men and winked. "Fer once I got you, Sam. Lucky such a fish as you is leavin' this country. I saw oil stain on your shoes and overalls yesterday. So I came up last night and went over your place with my flashlight. I found oil bubblin' out at three places. 'Nuf oil here to supply the whole state for fifty years," said Green. "Good geologist, awright. Yuh found all three spots where there's oil, jist three of 'em." "How the hell you know how much oil's on your place? You ain't no geologist," snorted Green. "Wal, Mr. Green, when I couldn't find thet oil you told me was on my land when you sold it to me, I went over to the Cat Creek Oil Field, got five gallons of crude oil, and made jist three wells for spee'lation. You found all three uv 'em," came the level voice of the rabbit man. "But a deal's a deal," he went on, as he felt the dry oil stains on his overalls. "Shore ruins clothes to make spee'lative oil wells, but I reckon hit's worth the trouble." |