"Anyhow," he went on quaintly,
after a moment, "it makes you forget all about your toothache,
don't it?"
The other cleared his throat raucously. "Now I know why the redskins
call it fire water," said he.
"Have another?"
"Not on your life," exclaimed the New Yorker. "Put it back in the
trunk,--and lock it up!"
"No sooner said than done," said Charlie amicably. "Now I'll
pull up the shades and let in a little of our well-known hoosier
atmosphere,--and some real moonshine. Hello! There go Hatch and
Angie, out for a stroll. Yep! She's got him headed toward Foster's
soda water joint. I'll bet every tooth in his head is achin'."
"How long have you been running the grain elevator, Charlie?"
"Ever since David Windom built it, back in 1897,--twenty-two years.
I took a few months off in '98, expecting to see something of Cuba,
but the darned Spaniards surrendered when they heard I was on the
way, so I never got any farther than Indianapolis. Twenty-two years.
That's almost as long as Alix Crown has lived altogether."
"Have you ever seen the grave at the top of Quill's Window?"
"When I first came here, yes. Nobody ever goes up there now. In
the first place, she don't like it, and in the second place, most
people in these parts are honourable. We wouldn't any more think of
trespassin' up there than we'd think of pickin' somebody's pocket.
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