Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v108.djvu/1040

976 So the others gathered in one hundred and ninety-six dollars and twenty-five cents that evening, and turned it over to the chairman of the finance committee. The next day—Monday—there were seventy-five women waiting at his store when he opened the doors for business, and they kept coming in such numbers that lie didn't shut up shop until 1 Tuesday. Then he started in to count receipts, and had barely got through when he had to open up again at seven o'clock or see his glass smashed in by the throng outside. Goods kept arriving on every train, and every wagon in the village was busy hauling them to his store, where they would remain a few hours and then be taken away to purchasers.

Thursday night Hiram sent for the doctor, and on Friday morning the village learned that he was a wreck from nervous prostration and had started for Colorado to regain his health. Then the city papers got hold of the news, and by night Hiram's creditors began to arrive. They broke into the store, and found nothing there but empty shelves and a safe weighing three tons, which contained a good deal of air and some dust.

We don't look forward very hopefully to seeing Hiram Yupsilon Biswel in our midst again—at least not in the near future. And a good many wouldn't be at all surprised to hear any day that the State of Colorado was missing from its accustomed place in the Union.