The Gentle Grafter Read online

  JEFF PETERS AS A PERSONAL MAGNET

  Jeff Peters has been engaged in as many schemes for making money asthere are recipes for cooking rice in Charleston, S.C.

  Best of all I like to hear him tell of his earlier days when he soldliniments and cough cures on street corners, living hand to mouth,heart to heart with the people, throwing heads or tails with fortunefor his last coin.

  "I struck Fisher Hill, Arkansaw," said he, "in a buckskin suit,moccasins, long hair and a thirty-carat diamond ring that I got froman actor in Texarkana. I don't know what he ever did with the pocketknife I swapped him for it.

  "I was Dr. Waugh-hoo, the celebrated Indian medicine man. I carriedonly one best bet just then, and that was Resurrection Bitters. Itwas made of life-giving plants and herbs accidentally discovered byTa-qua-la, the beautiful wife of the chief of the Choctaw Nation, whilegathering truck to garnish a platter of boiled dog for the annual corndance.

  "Business hadn't been good in the last town, so I only had fivedollars. I went to the Fisher Hill druggist and he credited me forhalf a gross of eight-ounce bottles and corks. I had the labels andingredients in my valise, left over from the last town. Life began tolook rosy again after I got in my hotel room with the water runningfrom the tap, and the Resurrection Bitters lining up on the table bythe dozen.

  "Life began to look rosy again..."]

  "Fake? No, sir. There was two dollars' worth of fluid extract ofcinchona and a dime's worth of aniline in that half-gross of bitters.I've gone through towns years afterwards and had folks ask for 'emagain.

  "I hired a wagon that night and commenced selling the bitters onMain Street. Fisher Hill was a low, malarial town; and a compoundhypothetical pneumocardiac anti-scorbutic tonic was just whatI diagnosed the crowd as needing. The bitters started off likesweetbreads-on-toast at a vegetarian dinner. I had sold two dozen atfifty cents apiece when I felt somebody pull my coat tail. I knew whatthat meant; so I climbed down and sneaked a five dollar bill into thehand of a man with a German silver star on his lapel.

  "I commenced selling the bitters on Main Street."]

  "'Constable,' says I, 'it's a fine night.'

  "'Have you got a city license,' he asks, 'to sell this illegitimateessence of spooju that you flatter by the name of medicine?'

  "'I have not,' says I. 'I didn't know you had a city. If I can find itto-morrow I'll take one out if it's necessary.'

  "'I'll have to close you up till you do,' says the constable.

  "I quit selling and went back to the hotel. I was talking to thelandlord about it.

  "'Oh, you won't stand no show in Fisher Hill,' says he. 'Dr. Hoskins,the only doctor here, is a brother-in-law of the Mayor, and they won'tallow no fake doctor to practice in town.'

  "'I don't practice medicine,' says I, 'I've got a State peddler'slicense, and I take out a city one wherever they demand it.'

  "I went to the Mayor's office the next morning and they told mehe hadn't showed up yet. They didn't know when he'd be down. SoDoc Waugh-hoo hunches down again in a hotel chair and lights ajimpson-weed regalia, and waits.

  "By and by a young man in a blue necktie slips into the chair next tome and asks the time.

  "'Half-past ten,' says I, 'and you are Andy Tucker. I've seen youwork. Wasn't it you that put up the Great Cupid Combination package onthe Southern States? Let's see, it was a Chilian diamond engagementring, a wedding ring, a potato masher, a bottle of soothing syrup andDorothy Vernon--all for fifty cents.'

  "Andy was pleased to hear that I remembered him. He was a good streetman; and he was more than that--he respected his profession, and hewas satisfied with 300 per cent. profit. He had plenty of offers to gointo the illegitimate drug and garden seed business; but he was neverto be tempted off of the straight path.

  "I wanted a partner, so Andy and me agreed to go out together. I toldhim about the situation in Fisher Hill and how finances was low onaccount of the local mixture of politics and jalap. Andy had just gotin on the train that morning. He was pretty low himself, and was goingto canvass the whole town for a few dollars to build a new battleshipby popular subscription at Eureka Springs. So we went out and sat onthe porch and talked it over.

  "The next morning at eleven o'clock when I was sitting there alone, anUncle Tom shuffles into the hotel and asked for the doctor to come andsee Judge Banks, who, it seems, was the mayor and a mighty sick man.

  "'I'm no doctor,' says I. 'Why don't you go and get the doctor?'

  "'Boss,' says he. 'Doc Hoskins am done gone twenty miles in de countryto see some sick persons. He's de only doctor in de town, and MassaBanks am powerful bad off. He sent me to ax you to please, suh, come.'

  "'As man to man,' says I, 'I'll go and look him over.' So I put abottle of Resurrection Bitters in my pocket and goes up on the hillto the mayor's mansion, the finest house in town, with a mansard roofand two cast iron dogs on the lawn.

  "This Mayor Banks was in bed all but his whiskers and feet. He wasmaking internal noises that would have had everybody in San Franciscohiking for the parks. A young man was standing by the bed holding acup of water.

  "'Doc,' says the Mayor, 'I'm awful sick. I'm about to die. Can't youdo nothing for me?'

  "'Mr. Mayor,' says I, 'I'm not a regular preordained disciple of S. Q.Lapius. I never took a course in a medical college,' says I. 'I'vejust come as a fellow man to see if I could be off assistance.'

  "'I'm deeply obliged,' says he. 'Doc Waugh-hoo, this is my nephew, Mr.Biddle. He has tried to alleviate my distress, but without success.Oh, Lordy! Ow-ow-ow!!' he sings out.

  "I nods at Mr. Biddle and sets down by the bed and feels the mayor'spulse. 'Let me see your liver--your tongue, I mean,' says I. Then Iturns up the lids of his eyes and looks close that the pupils of 'em.

  "'How long have you been sick?' I asked.

  "'I was taken down--ow-ouch--last night,' says the Mayor. 'Gimmesomething for it, doc, won't you?'

  "'Mr. Fiddle,' says I, 'raise the window shade a bit, will you?'

  "'Biddle,' says the young man. 'Do you feel like you could eat someham and eggs, Uncle James?'

  "'Mr. Mayor,' says I, after laying my ear to his right shoulder bladeand listening, 'you've got a bad attack of super-inflammation of theright clavicle of the harpsichord!'

  "'Good Lord!' says he, with a groan, 'Can't you rub something on it,or set it or anything?'

  "I picks up my hat and starts for the door.

  "'You ain't going, doc?' says the Mayor with a howl. 'You ain't goingaway and leave me to die with this--superfluity of the clapboards, areyou?'

  "'Common humanity, Dr. Whoa-ha,' says Mr. Biddle, 'ought to preventyour deserting a fellow-human in distress.'

  "'Dr. Waugh-hoo, when you get through plowing,' says I. And then Iwalks back to the bed and throws back my long hair.

  "'Mr. Mayor,' says I, 'there is only one hope for you. Drugs will doyou no good. But there is another power higher yet, although drugs arehigh enough,' says I.

  "'And what is that?' says he.

  "'Scientific demonstrations,' says I. 'The triumph of mind oversarsaparilla. The belief that there is no pain and sickness exceptwhat is produced when we ain't feeling well. Declare yourself inarrears. Demonstrate.'

  "'What is this paraphernalia you speak of, Doc?' says the Mayor. 'Youain't a Socialist, are you?'

  "'I am speaking,' says I, 'of the great doctrine of psychicfinanciering--of the enlightened school of long-distance,sub-conscientious treatment of fallacies and meningitis--of thatwonderful in-door sport known as personal magnetism.'

  "'Can you work it, doc?' asks the Mayor.

  "'I'm one of the Sole Sanhedrims and Ostensible Hooplas of the InnerPulpit,' says I. 'The lame talk and the blind rubber whenever I makea pass at 'em. I am a medium, a coloratura hypnotist and a spirituouscontrol. It was only through me at the recent seances at Ann Arborthat the late president of the Vinegar Bitters Company could revisitthe earth to communicate with his sister Jane. You see me peddlingmedicine on the street,' says
I, 'to the poor. I don't practicepersonal magnetism on them. I do not drag it in the dust,' says I,'because they haven't got the dust.'

  "'Will you treat my case?' asks the Mayor.

  "'Listen,' says I. 'I've had a good deal of trouble with medicalsocieties everywhere I've been. I don't practice medicine. But, tosave your life, I'll give you the psychic treatment if you'll agree asmayor not to push the license question.'

  "'Of course I will,' says he. 'And now get to work, doc, for thempains are coming on again.'

  "'My fee will be $250.00, cure guaranteed in two treatments,' says I.

  "'All right,' says the Mayor. 'I'll pay it. I guess my life's worththat much.'

  "I sat down by the bed and looked him straight in the eye.

  "'Now,' says I, 'get your mind off the disease. You ain't sick.You haven't got a heart or a clavicle or a funny bone or brains oranything. You haven't got any pain. Declare error. Now you feel thepain that you didn't have leaving, don't you?'

  "'I do feel some little better, doc,' says the Mayor, 'darned if Idon't. Now state a few lies about my not having this swelling in myleft side, and I think I could be propped up and have some sausage andbuckwheat cakes.'

  "I made a few passes with my hands.

  "'Now,' says I, 'the inflammation's gone. The right lobe of theperihelion has subsided. You're getting sleepy. You can't hold youreyes open any longer. For the present the disease is checked. Now, youare asleep.'

  "The Mayor shut his eyes slowly and began to snore.

  "'You observe, Mr. Tiddle,' says I, 'the wonders of modern science.'

  "'Biddle,' says he, 'When will you give uncle the rest of thetreatment, Dr. Pooh-pooh?'

  "'Waugh-hoo,' says I. 'I'll come back at eleven to-morrow. When hewakes up give him eight drops of turpentine and three pounds of steak.Good morning.'

  "The next morning I was back on time. 'Well, Mr. Riddle,' says I, whenhe opened the bedroom door, 'and how is uncle this morning?'

  "'He seems much better,' says the young man.

  "The mayor's color and pulse was fine. I gave him another treatment,and he said the last of the pain left him.

  "'Now,' says I, 'you'd better stay in bed for a day or two, and you'llbe all right. It's a good thing I happened to be in Fisher Hill, Mr.Mayor,' says I, 'for all the remedies in the cornucopia that theregular schools of medicine use couldn't have saved you. And nowthat error has flew and pain proved a perjurer, let's allude to acheerfuller subject--say the fee of $250. No checks, please, I hateto write my name on the back of a check almost as bad as I do on thefront.'

  "'I've got the cash here,' says the mayor, pulling a pocket book fromunder his pillow.

  "He counts out five fifty-dollar notes and holds 'em in his hand.

  "'Bring the receipt,' he says to Biddle.

  "I signed the receipt and the mayor handed me the money. I put it inmy inside pocket careful.

  "'Now do your duty, officer,' says the mayor, grinning much unlike asick man.

  "Mr. Biddle lays his hand on my arm.

  "'You're under arrest, Dr. Waugh-hoo, alias Peters,' says he, 'forpractising medicine without authority under the State law.'

  "'Who are you?' I asks.

  "'I'll tell you who he is,' says Mr. Mayor, sitting up in bed. 'He's adetective employed by the State Medical Society. He's been followingyou over five counties. He came to me yesterday and we fixed up thisscheme to catch you. I guess you won't do any more doctoring aroundthese parts, Mr. Fakir. What was it you said I had, doc?' the mayorlaughs, 'compound--well, it wasn't softening of the brain, I guess,anyway.'

  "'A detective,' says I.

  "'Correct,' says Biddle. 'I'll have to turn you over to the sheriff.'

  "'Let's see you do it,' says I, and I grabs Biddle by the throat andhalf throws him out the window, but he pulls a gun and sticks it undermy chin, and I stand still. Then he puts handcuffs on me, and takesthe money out of my pocket.

  "And I grabs Biddle by the throat."]

  "'I witness,' says he, 'that they're the same bank bills that you andI marked, Judge Banks. I'll turn them over to the sheriff when we getto his office, and he'll send you a receipt. They'll have to be usedas evidence in the case.'

  "'All right, Mr. Biddle,' says the mayor. 'And now, Doc Waugh-hoo,' hegoes on, 'why don't you demonstrate? Can't you pull the cork out ofyour magnetism with your teeth and hocus-pocus them handcuffs off?'

  "'Come on, officer,' says I, dignified. 'I may as well make the bestof it.' And then I turns to old Banks and rattles my chains.

  "'Mr. Mayor,' says I, 'the time will come soon when you'll believethat personal magnetism is a success. And you'll be sure that itsucceeded in this case, too.'

  "And I guess it did.

  "When we got nearly to the gate, I says: 'We might meet somebody now,Andy. I reckon you better take 'em off, and--' Hey? Why, of courseit was Andy Tucker. That was his scheme; and that's how we got thecapital to go into business together."