Hostages to Momus

by O. Henry

I I never got inside of the legitimate line of graft but once. But, onetime, as I say, I reversed the decision of the revised statutes andundertook a thing that I'd have to apologize for even under the NewJersey trust laws. Me and Caligula Polk, of Muskogee in the Creek Nation, was down in theMexican State of Tamaulipas running a peripatetic lottery and montegame. Now, selling lottery tickets is a government graft in Mexico,just like selling forty-eight cents' worth of postage-stamps forforty-nine cents is over here. So Uncle Porfirio he instructs the/rurales/ to attend to our case. /Rurales/? They're a sort of country police; but don't draw any mentalcrayon portraits of the worthy constables with a tin star and a graygoatee. The /rurales/--well, if we'd mount our Supreme Court onbroncos, arm 'em with Winchesters, and start 'em out after John Doe/et al/., we'd have about the same thing. When the /rurales/ started for us we started for the States. Theychased us as far as Matamoras. We hid in a brickyard; and that nightwe swum the Rio Grande, Caligula with a brick in each hand, absent-minded, which he drops upon the soil of Texas, forgetting he had 'em. From there we emigrated to San Antone, and then over to New Orleans,where we took a rest. And in that town of cotton bales and otheradjuncts to female beauty we made the acquaintance of drinks inventedby the Creoles during the period of Louey Cans, in which they arestill served at the side doors. The most I can remember of this townis that me and Caligula and a Frenchman named McCarty--wait a minute;Adolph McCarty--was trying to make the French Quarter pay up the backtrading-stamps due on the Louisiana Purchase, when somebody hollersthat the johndarms are coming. I have an insufficient recollection ofbuying two yellow tickets through a window; and I seemed to see a manswing a lantern and say "All aboard!" I remembered no more, exceptthat the train butcher was covering me and Caligula up with Augusta J.Evans's works and figs. When we become revised, we find that we have collided up against theState of Georgia at a spot hitherto unaccounted for in time tablesexcept by an asterisk, which means that trains stop every otherThursday on signal by tearing up a rail. We was waked up in a yellowpine hotel by the noise of flowers and the smell of birds. Yes, sir,for the wind was banging sunflowers as big as buggy wheels against theweatherboarding and the chicken coop was right under the window. Meand Caligula dressed and went down-stairs. The landlord was shellingpeas on the front porch. He was six feet of chills and fever, andHongkong in complexion though in other respects he seemed amenable inthe exercise of his sentiments and features. Caligula, who is a spokesman by birth, and a small man, though red-haired and impatient of painfulness of any kind, speaks up. "Pardner," says he, "good-morning, and be darned to you. Would youmind telling us why we are at? We know the reason we are where, butcan't exactly figure out on account of at what place." "Well, gentlemen," says the landlord, "I reckoned you-all would beinquiring this morning. You-all dropped off of the nine-thirty trainhere last night; and you was right tight. Yes, you was right smart inliquor. I can inform you that you are now in the town of MountainValley, in the State of Georgia." "On top of that," says Caligula, "don't say that we can't haveanything to eat." "Sit down, gentlemen," says the landlord, "and in twenty minutes I'llcall you to the best breakfast you can get anywhere in town." That breakfast turned out to be composed of fried bacon and ayellowish edifice that proved up something between pound cake andflexible sandstone. The landlord calls it corn pone; and then he setsout a dish of the exaggerated breakfast food known as hominy; and some and Caligula makes the acquaintance of the celebrated food thatenabled every Johnny Reb to lick one and two-thirds Yankees for nearlyfour years at a stretch. "The wonder to me is," says Caligula, "that Uncle Robert Lee's boysdidn't chase the Grant and Sherman outfit clear up into Hudson's Bay.It would have made me that mad to eat this truck they call mahogany!" "Hog and hominy," I explains, "is the staple food of this section." "Then," says Caligula, "they ought to keep it where it belongs. Ithought this was a hotel and not a stable. Now, if we was in Muskogeeat the St. Lucifer House, I'd show you some breakfast grub. Antelopesteaks and fried liver to begin on, and venison cutlets with /chilicon carne/ and pineapple fritters, and then some sardines and mixedpickles; and top it off with a can of yellow clings and a bottle ofbeer. You won't find a layout like that on the bill of affairs of anyof your Eastern restauraws." "Too lavish," says I. "I've traveled, and I'm unprejudiced. There'llnever be a perfect breakfast eaten until some man grows arms longenough to stretch down to New Orleans for his coffee and over toNorfolk for his rolls, and reaches up to Vermont and digs a slice ofbutter out of a spring-house, and then turns over a beehive close to awhite clover patch out in Indiana for the rest. Then he'd come prettyclose to making a meal on the amber that the gods eat on MountOlympia." "Too ephemeral," says Caligula. "I'd want ham and eggs, or rabbitstew, anyhow, for a chaser. What do you consider the most edifying andcasual in the way of a dinner?" "I've been infatuated from time to time," I answers, "with fancyramifications of grub such as terrapins, lobsters, reed birds,jambolaya, and canvas-covered ducks; but after all there's nothingless displeasing to me than a beefsteak smothered in mushrooms on abalcony in sound of the Broadway streetcards, with a hand-organplaying down below, and the boys hollering extras about the latestsuicide. For the wine, give me a reasonable Ponty Cany. And that'sall, except a /demi-tasse/." "Well," says Caligula, "I reckon in New York you get to be aconniseer; and when you go around with the /demi-tasse/ you arenaturally bound to buy 'em stylish grub." "It's a great town for epicures," says I. "You'd soon fall into theirways if you was there." "I've heard it was," says Caligula. "But I reckon I wouldn't. I canpolish my fingernails all they need myself." II After breakfast we went out on the front porch, lighted up two of thelandlord's /flor de upas/ perfectos, and took a look at Georgia. The installment of scenery visible to the eye looked mighty poor. Asfar as we could see was red hills all washed down with gullies andscattered over with patches of piny woods. Blackberry bushes was allthat kept the rail fences from falling down. About fifteen miles overto the north was a little range of well-timbered mountains. That town of Mountain Valley wasn't going. About a dozen peoplepermeated along the sidewalks; but what you saw mostly was rain-barrels and roosters, and boys poking around with sticks in piles ofashes made by burning the scenery of Uncle Tom shows. And just then there passes down on the other side of the street a highman in a long black coat and a beaver hat. All the people in sightbowed, and some crossed the street to shake hands with him; folks cameout of stores and houses to holler at him; women leaned out of windowsand smiled; and all the kids stopped playing to look at him. Ourlandlord stepped out on the porch and bent himself double like acarpenter's rule, and sung out, "Good-morning, Colonel," when he was adozen yards gone by. "And is that Alexander, pa?" says Caligula to the landlord; "and whyis he called great?" "That, gentlemen," says the landlord, "is no less than Colonel JacksonT. Rockingham, the president of the Sunrise & Edenville Tap Railroad,mayor of Mountain Valley, and chairman of the Perry County board ofimmigration and public improvements." "Been away a good many years, hasn't he?" I asked. "No, sir; Colonel Rockingham is going down to the post-office for hismail. His fellow-citizens take pleasure in greeting him thus everymorning. The colonel is our most prominent citizen. Besides the heightof the stock of the Sunrise & Edenville Tap Railroad, he owns athousand acres of that land across the creek. Mountain Valleydelights, sir, to honor a citizen of such worth and public spirit." For an hour that afternoon Caligula sat on the back of his neck on theporch and studied a newspaper, which was unusual in a man who despisedprint. When he was through he took me to the end of the porch amongthe sunlight and drying dish-towels. I knew that Caligula had inventeda new graft. For he chewed the ends of his mustache and ran the leftcatch of his suspenders up and down, which was his way. "What is it now?" I asks. "Just so it ain't floating mining stocks orraising Pennsylvania pinks, we'll talk it over." "Pennsylvania pinks? Oh, that refers to a coin-raising scheme of theKeystoners. They burn the soles of old women's feet to make them tellwhere their money's hid." Caligula's words in business was always few and bitter. "You see them mountains," said he, pointing. "And you seen thatcolonel man that owns railroads and cuts more ice when he goes to thepost-office than Roosevelt does when he cleans 'em out. What we'regoing to do is to kidnap the latter into the former, and inflict aransom of ten thousand dollars." "Illegality," says I, shaking my head. "I knew you'd say that," says Caligula. "At first sight it does seemto jar peace and dignity. But it don't. I got the idea out of thatnewspaper. Would you commit aspersions on a equitable graft that theUnited States itself has condoned and indorsed and ratified?" "Kidnapping," says I, "is an immoral function in the derogatory listof the statutes. If the United States upholds it, it must be a recentenactment of ethics, along with race suicide and rural delivery." "Listen," says Caligula, "and I'll explain the case set down in thepapers. Here was a Greek citizen named Burdick Harris," says he,"captured for a graft by Africans; and the United States sends twogunboats to the State of Tangiers and makes the King of Morocco giveup seventy thousand dollars to Raisuli." "Go slow," says I. "That sounds too international to take in all atonce. It's like 'thimble, thimble, who's got the naturalizationpapers?'" "'Twas press despatches from Constantinople," says Caligula. "You'llsee, six months from now. They'll be confirmed by the monthlymagazines; and then it won't be long till you'll notice 'em alongsidethe photos of the Mount Pelee eruption photos in the while-you-get-your-hair-cut weeklies. It's all right, Pick. This African man Raisulihides Burdick Harris up in the mountains, and advertises his price tothe governments of different nations. Now, you wouldn't think for aminute," goes on Caligula, "that John Hay would have chipped in andhelped this graft along if it wasn't a square game, would you?" "Why, no," says I. "I've always stood right in with Bryan's policies,and I couldn't consciously say a word against the Republicanadministration just now. But if Harris was a Greek, on what system ofinternational protocols did Hay interfere?" "It ain't exactly set forth in the papers," says Caligula. "I supposeit's a matter of sentiment. You know he wrote this poem, 'LittleBreeches'; and them Greeks wear little or none. But anyhow, John Haysends the Brooklyn and the Olympia over, and they cover Africa withthirty-inch guns. And then Hay cables after the health of the /personagrata/. 'And how are they this morning?' he wires. 'Is Burdick Harrisalive yet, or Mr. Raisuli dead?' And the King of Morocco sends up theseventy thousand dollars, and they turn Burdick Harris loose. Andthere's not half the hard feelings among the nations about this littlekidnapping matter as there was about the peace congress. And BurdickHarris says to the reporters, in the Greek language, that he's oftenheard about the United States, and he admires Roosevelt next toRaisuli, who is one of the whitest and most gentlemanly kidnappersthat he ever worked alongside of. So you see, Pick," winds upCaligula, "we've got the law of nations on our side. We'll cut thiscolonel man out of the herd, and corral him in them little mountains,and stick up his heirs and assigns for ten thousand dollars." "Well, you seldom little red-headed territorial terror," I answers,"you can't bluff your uncle Tecumseh Pickens! I'll be your company inthis graft. But I misdoubt if you've absorbed the inwardness of thisBurdick Harris case, Calig; and if on any morning we get a telegramfrom the Secretary of State asking about the health of the scheme, Ipropose to acquire the most propinquitous and celeritous mule in thissection and gallop diplomatically over into the neighboring andpeaceful nation of Alabama." III Me and Caligula spent the next three days investigating the bunch ofmountains into which we proposed to kidnap Colonel Jackson T.Rockingham. We finally selected an upright slice of topography coveredwith bushes and trees that you could only reach by a secret path thatwe cut out up the side of it. And the only way to reach the mountainwas to follow up the bend of a branch that wound among the elevations. Then I took in hand an important subdivision of the proceedings. Iwent up to Atlanta on the train and laid in a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar supply of the most gratifying and efficient lines of grub thatmoney could buy. I always was an admirer of viands in their morepalliative and revised stages. Hog and hominy are not only inartisticto my stomach, but they give indigestion to my moral sentiments. And Ithought of Colonel Jackson T. Rockingham, president of the Sunrise &Edenville Tap Railroad, and how he would miss the luxury of his homefare as is so famous among wealthy Southerners. So I sunk half of mineand Caligula's capital in as elegant a layout of fresh and cannedprovisions as Burdick Harris or any other professional kidnappee eversaw in a camp. I put another hundred in a couple of cases of Bordeaux, two quarts ofcognac, two hundred Havana regalias with gold bands, and a camp stoveand stools and folding cots. I wanted Colonel Rockingham to becomfortable; and I hoped after he gave up the ten thousand dollars hewould give me and Caligula as good a name for gentlemen andentertainers as the Greek man did the friend of his that made theUnited States his bill collector against Africa. When the goods came down from Atlanta, we hired a wagon, moved them upon the little mountain, and established camp. And then we laid for thecolonel. We caught him one morning about two miles out from Mountain Valley, onhis way to look after some of his burnt umber farm land. He was anelegant old gentleman, as thin and tall as a trout rod, with frazzledshirt-cuffs and specs on a black string. We explained to him, briefand easy, what we wanted; and Caligula showed him, careless, thehandle of his forty-five under his coat. "What?" says Colonel Rockingham. "Bandits in Perry County, Georgia! Ishall see that the board of immigration and public improvements hearsof this!" "Be so unfoolhardy as to climb into that buggy," says Caligula, "byorder of the board of perforation and public depravity. This is abusiness meeting, and we're anxious to adjourn /sine qua non/." We drove Colonel Rockingham over the mountain and up the side of it asfar as the buggy could go. Then we tied the horse, and took ourprisoner on foot up to the camp. "Now, colonel," I says to him, "we're after the ransom, me and mypartner; and no harm will come to you if the King of Mor--if yourfriends send up the dust. In the mean time we are gentlemen the sameas you. And if you give us your word not to try to escape, the freedomof the camp is yours." "I give you my word," says the colonel. "All right," says I; "and now it's eleven o'clock, and me and Mr. Polkwill proceed to inculcate the occasion with a few well-timedtrivialities in the way of grub." "Thank you," says the colonel; "I believe I could relish a slice ofbacon and a plate of hominy." "But you won't," says I emphatic. "Not in this camp. We soar in higherregions than them occupied by your celebrated but repulsive dish." While the colonel read his paper, me and Caligula took off our coatsand went in for a little luncheon /de luxe/ just to show him. Caligulawas a fine cook of the Western brand. He could toast a buffalo orfricassee a couple of steers as easy as a woman could make a cup oftea. He was gifted in the way of knocking together edibles when hasteand muscle and quantity was to be considered. He held the record westof the Arkansas River for frying pancakes with his left hand, broilingvenison cutlets with his right, and skinning a rabbit with his teethat the same time. But I could do things /en casserole/ and /a lacreole/, and handle the oil and tobasco as gently and nicely as aFrench /chef/. So at twelve o'clock we had a hot lunch ready that looked like abanquet on a Mississippi River steamboat. We spread it on the tops oftwo or three big boxes, opened two quarts of the red wine, set theolives and a canned oyster cocktail and a ready-made Martini by thecolonel's plate, and called him to grub. Colonel Rockingham drew up his campstool, wiped off his specs, andlooked at the things on the table. Then I thought he was swearing; andI felt mean because I hadn't taken more pains with the victuals. Buthe wasn't; he was asking a blessing; and me and Caligula hung ourheads, and I saw a tear drop from the colonel's eye into his cocktail. I never saw a man eat with so much earnestness and application--nothastily, like a grammarian, or one of the canal, but slow andappreciative, like a anaconda, or a real /vive bonjour/. In an hour and a half the colonel leaned back. I brought him a pony ofbrandy and his black coffee, and set the box of Havana regalias on thetable. "Gentlemen," says he, blowing out the smoke and trying to breathe itback again, "when we view the eternal hills and the smiling andbeneficent landscape, and reflect upon the goodness of the Creatorwho--" "Excuse me, colonel," says I, "but there's some business to attend tonow"; and I brought out paper and pen and ink and laid 'em before him."Who do you want to send to for the money?" I asks. "I reckon," says he, after thinking a bit, "to the vice-president ofour railroad, at the general offices of the Company in Edenville." "How far is it to Edenville from here?" I asked. "About ten miles," says he. Then I dictated these lines, and Colonel Rockingham wrote them out: I am kidnapped and held a prisoner by two desperate outlaws in aplace which is useless to attempt to find. They demand tenthousand dollars at once for my release. The amount must be raisedimmediately, and these directions followed. Come alone with themoney to Stony Creek, which runs out of Blacktop Mountains. Followthe bed of the creek till you come to a big flat rock on the leftbank, on which is marked a cross in red chalk. Stand on the rockand wave a white flag. A guide will come to you and conduct you towhere I am held. Lose no time. After the colonel had finished this, he asked permission to take on apostscript about how he was being treated, so the railroad wouldn'tfeel uneasy in its bosom about him. We agreed to that. He wrote downthat he had just had lunch with the two desperate ruffians; and thenhe set down the whole bill of fare, from cocktails to coffee. He woundup with the remark that dinner would be ready about six, and wouldprobably be a more licentious and intemperate affair than lunch. Me and Caligula read it, and decided to let it go; for we, beingcooks, were amenable to praise, though it sounded out of place on asight draft for ten thousand dollars. I took the letter over to the Mountain Valley road and watched for amessenger. By and by a colored equestrian came along on horseback,riding toward Edenville. I gave him a dollar to take the letter to therailroad offices; and then I went back to camp. IV About four o'clock in the afternoon, Caligula, who was acting aslookout, calls to me: "I have to report a white shirt signalling on the starboard bow, sir." I went down the mountain and brought back a fat, red man in an alpacacoat and no collar. "Gentlemen," says Colonel Rockingham, "allow me to introduce mybrother, Captain Duval C. Rockingham, vice-president of the Sunrise &Edenville Tap Railroad." "Otherwise the King of Morocco," says I. "I reckon you don't mind mycounting the ransom, just as a business formality." "Well, no, not exactly," says the fat man, "not when it comes. Iturned that matter over to our second vice-president. I was anxiousafter Brother Jackson's safetiness. I reckon he'll be along rightsoon. What does that lobster salad you mentioned taste like, BrotherJackson?" "Mr. Vice-President," says I, "you'll oblige us by remaining here tillthe second V.P. arrives. This is a private rehearsal, and we don'twant any roadside speculators selling tickets." In half an hour Caligula sings out again: "Sail ho! Looks like an apron on a broomstick." I perambulated down the cliff again, and escorted up a man six footthree, with a sandy beard and no other dimension that you couldnotice. Thinks I to myself, if he's got ten thousand dollars on hisperson it's in one bill and folded lengthwise. "Mr. Patterson G. Coble, our second vice-president," announces thecolonel. "Glad to know you, gentlemen," says this Coble. "I came up todisseminate the tidings that Major Tallahassee Tucker, our generalpassenger agent, is now negotiating a peachcrate full of our railroadbonds with the Perry County Bank for a loan. My dear ColonelRockingham, was that chicken gumbo or cracked goobers on the bill offare in your note? Me and the conductor of fifty-six was having adispute about it." "Another white wings on the rocks!" hollers Caligula. "If I see anymore I'll fire on 'em and swear they was torpedo-boats!" The guide goes down again, and convoys into the lair a person in blueoveralls carrying an amount of inebriety and a lantern. I am so surethat this is Major Tucker that I don't even ask him until we are upabove; and then I discover that it is Uncle Timothy, the yardswitchman at Edenville, who is sent ahead to flag our understandingswith the gossip that Judge Pendergast, the railroad's attorney, is inthe process of mortgaging Colonel Rockingham's farming lands to makeup the ransom. While he is talking, two men crawl from under the bushes into camp,and Caligula, with no white flag to disinter him from his plain duty,draws his gun. But again Colonel Rockingham intervenes and introducesMr. Jones and Mr. Batts, engineer and fireman of train number forty-two. "Excuse us," says Batts, "but me and Jim have hunted squirrels allover this mounting, and we don't need no white flag. Was thatstraight, colonel, about the plum pudding and pineapples and realstore cigars?" "Towel on a fishing-pole in the offing!" howls Caligula. "Suppose it'sthe firing line of the freight conductors and brakeman." "My last trip down," says I, wiping off my face. "If the S. & E.T.wants to run an excursion up here just because we kidnapped theirpresident, let 'em. We'll put out our sign. 'The Kidnapper's Cafe andTrainmen's Home.'" This time I caught Major Tallahassee Tucker by his own confession, andI felt easier. I asked him into the creek, so I could drown him if hehappened to be a track-walker or caboose porter. All the way up themountain he driveled to me about asparagus on toast, a thing that hisintelligence in life had skipped. Up above I got his mind segregated from food and asked if he hadraised the ransom. "My dear sir," says he, "I succeeded in negotiating a loan on thirtythousand dollars' worth of the bonds of our railroad, and--" "Never mind just now, major," says I. "It's all right, then. Wait tillafter dinner, and we'll settle the business. All of you gentlemen," Icontinues to the crowd, "are invited to stay to dinner. We havemutually trusted one another, and the white flag is supposed to waveover the proceedings." "The correct idea," says Caligula, who was standing by me. "Twobaggage-masters and a ticket-agent dropped out of a tree while you wasbelow the last time. Did the major man bring the money?" "He says," I answered, "that he succeeded in negotiating the loan." If any cooks ever earned ten thousand dollars in twelve hours, me andCaligula did that day. At six o'clock we spread the top of themountain with as fine a dinner as the personnel of any railroad everengulfed. We opened all the wine, and we concocted entrees and /piecesde resistance/, and stirred up little savory /chef de cuisines/ andorganized a mass of grub such as has been seldom instigated out ofcanned and bottled goods. The railroad gathered around it, and thewassail and diversions was intense. After the feast me and Caligula, in the line of business, takes MajorTucker to one side and talks ransom. The major pulls out anagglomeration of currency about the size of the price of a town lot inthe suburbs of Rabbitville, Arizona, and makes this outcry. "Gentlemen," says he, "the stock of the Sunrise & Edenville railroadhas depreciated some. The best I could do with thirty thousanddollars' worth of the bonds was to secure a loan of eighty-sevendollars and fifty cents. On the farming lands of Colonel Rockingham,Judge Pendergast was able to obtain, on a ninth mortgage, the sum offifty dollars. You will find the amount, one hundred and thirty-sevenfifty, correct." "A railroad president," said I, looking this Tucker in the eye, "andthe owner of a thousand acres of land; and yet--" "Gentlemen," says Tucker, "The railroad is ten miles long. There don'tany train run on it except when the crew goes out in the pines andgathers enough lightwood knots to get up steam. A long time ago, whentimes was good, the net earnings used to run as high as eighteendollars a week. Colonel Rockingham's land has been sold for taxesthirteen times. There hasn't been a peach crop in this part of Georgiafor two years. The wet spring killed the watermelons. Nobody aroundhere has money enough to buy fertilizer; and land is so poor the corncrop failed and there wasn't enough grass to support the rabbits. Allthe people have had to eat in this section for over a year is hog andhominy, and--" "Pick," interrupts Caligula, mussing up his red hair, "what are yougoing to do with that chicken-feed?" I hands the money back to Major Tucker; and then I goes over toColonel Rockingham and slaps him on the back. "Colonel," says I, "I hope you've enjoyed our little joke. We don'twant to carry it too far. Kidnappers! Well, wouldn't it tickle youruncle? My name's Rhinegelder, and I'm a nephew of Chauncey Depew. Myfriend's a second cousin of the editor of /Puck/. So you can see. Weare down South enjoying ourselves in our humorous way. Now, there'stwo quarts of cognac to open yet, and then the joke's over." What's the use to go into details? One or two will be enough. Iremember Major Tallahassee Tucker playing on a jew's-harp, andCaligula waltzing with his head on the watch pocket of a tall baggage-master. I hesitate to refer to the cake-walk done by me and Mr.Patterson G. Coble with Colonel Jackson T. Rockingham between us. And even on the next morning, when you wouldn't think it possible,there was a consolation for me and Caligula. We knew that Raisulihimself never made half the hit with Burdick Harris that we did withthe Sunrise & Edenville Tap Railroad.

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