THE SCALPER’S TICKET
by Cutler B . Whitwell
end of the day coach and so ar ranged my suit case that the con ductor could not fail to see the name “John Dorsey” inscribed in large letters. Comfortably seat ed, I decided to take a look at my ticket. The first thing I no ticed were the words: “De scription of original purchaser. Height 5 ft. 8 in., Weight 155 lbs.” My height is 6 ft. 8 in. and my weight 190 lbs. The only agreement was in the matter of color of hair. My anticipation of good times ahead turned stone cold. I could see myself being put off the train to spend the night with the prairie dogs. It seemed ages before I heard the conductor enter the car and another age before I heard the words: “Ticket, please.” Without taking my eyes off the scampering prairie dogs, I hand ed it over and waited. “ Sign here.” I made it evident on account o f the jarring motion o f the car it was difficult to do a good job o f signing Dorsey’s name. Hand-
■ The feared moment had ar rived. It happened on the train running between Silver City, New Mexico, and Kansas City. I was seated on the hotel ver anda waiting to hear the supper bell, when the porter came to me and said, “ Boss, there’s a man here what wants to sell his re turn ticket to Kansas City; he ain’t goin’ back. You can save yo’self quite a piece of money.” I was introduced to John Dor sey and the deal was made. Dor sey then went to the depot and had the ticket validated which meant signing his name on the ticket. Later I walked to the station to board the train and the thought came, “Why not take the day coach and save the price of a sleeper?” It was a thrill to think of the good times I could have with the money saved. I had had a wonderful time on the W. S. cattle ranch and was an ticipating telling the fraternity brothers at Columbia all about the life of a cowpuncher. I took a seat in the forward
Continued on p. 46 THE KING'S BUSINESS
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