FullReads

Being a firm believer in the efficacy of cold baths for the cure of dyspepsia and having been laughed at for same by my nephew, Custer Master, and feeling that a course of ice-cold baths would cure him, I make it a part of my will and testament that the sum or sums bequeathed to him shall be given to him only after he has faithfully, and upon the sworn testimony of an eye-witness, bathed for twelve minutes, every morning for one month of thirty days, in ice-cold water.

“Cleanliness may be next to godliness,” said Mr. Master, “but ice-water baths are my shortest road to a future state, and I’m not ready for that yet. Still, I did not like to give up $450,000. To Billy Gribble,” he added, with a meaning smile, “all baths are cold baths. I hold a mortgage on his laundry machinery.”

“And so you came up here to my office to hide whilst bathing in so-called ice-water at Mister Gribble’s?” said Philo Gubb.

“Exactly!” said Mr. Master.

“If you ain’t got six thousand and seventy-five dollars by you,” said Philo Gubb simply, “you can give me a check for the whole amount in the morning, but if you go to take the bullet out of this pistol you’ll have to get an auger. I made the bullet myself and it was too big, and I had to pound it into the gun with a hammer and screw-driver. It’s in good and safe.”

“And you would have dared to pull the trigger?” asked Mr. Master.

“I would have dared so to do,” said Mr. Gubb.

“It would have blown the pistol to atoms!” exclaimed Mr. Master.

“It would so have done,” said Mr. Gubb, “except for the time I loaded it being the first beginning time I ever loaded a pistol. In loading a Briggs & Bolton, I have since subsequently learned, the powder ought to go into it first, and the bullet second. I put the bullet in first.”

“Well, bless my stars!” exclaimed Mr. Master. “Bless my stars! If that is the case–if that is the case, I’m going to bed again. I have to get up before daylight to take a bath.”