Uncle Sagamore and His Girls by Charles Williams Read Free Book Online

tires right there on the bed of your truck. And you know what? I ain’t goin’ to charge you a nickel for ’em. I know that’s the way Jim would want it—”
    “Jim?” Uncle Sagamore asked.
    “I—I mean Jack. He’d want you to have them tires. And he’d turn over in his grave if I tried to charge you for ’em.”
    “Why,” Uncle Sagamore says, “we couldn’t let you do that—”
    Curly held up his hand. “Not another word. I appreciate good customers, and I aim to keep ’em.”
    Uncle Sagamore looked kind of embarrassed. “Well sir, if you’re sure that’s the way you feel—”
    “That’s exactly the way I feel,” Curly says, slapping him on the back again. He put the tires on the truck. “We’re friends, ain’t we? Let’s keep it that way.”
    “Well, I sure want you to know we appreciate it,” Uncle Sagamore says. Then he looked at Pop. “Reckon we might as well go, Sam. Did you get your change?”
    “ Change? ” Curly had that sick look on his face again. Then he snapped his fingers. “Oh, sure, that’s right. Uh—that was a five you give me, wasn’t it?”
    Pop hitched up his back again. It was a little straighter now, but he grunted. “Oooommmph!” he says. “No, as I recollect, it was a ten. You remember—?”
    “Oh, sure. I remember now.” Curly hurried back inside the office and when he come out he handed Pop seven dollars. Then he sighed and leaned against the door frame while he mopped his face again.
    Uncle Sagamore started to get in the truck, but he turned and went back to where Curly was. He caught Curly’s hand and shook it, real sympathetic. “I reckon if it was last week, we done missed the services,” he said.
    “But I just want you to know how we feel, and if there’s ere thing we can do—”
    He kind of choked up then. He grabbed the big handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose. “It just gets you,” he says. “Man bein’ takened off in the prime of life that way.”
    Miss Malone stared at him. Murph started choking on his cigarette again, and had to turn away and lean on the back of the convertible. Uncle Sagamore come back and got in the truck and we went on to the store.

FOUR
    I T SURE SEEMED LIKE a funny way for Curly to do business. “Why you suppose he didn’t want to charge us for the tires?” I asked Pop.
    “Hmmm,” Pop says. “I reckon they was what they call a loss-leader. Anyway, he sure is a neighborly feller to trade with.”
    Well, it seemed like we didn’t have to stop at any lawyer’s office after all. We parked in the square in front of the store, and Pop bought five pounds of baloney and the hog lard and a box of cigars. His back had got all right now. He give me fifty cents, and I bought a Super Jumbo chocolate bar and a box of dog candy for Sig Freed. We was just getting back in the truck when the convertible pulled into the parking place next to us. Miss Malone grinned at Pop and Uncle Sagamore and shook her head.
    “You’d never think it to look at you,” she said.
    Murph got out and come around to talk to Uncle Sagamore. “Somebody told him who you are,” he said, “and he’s boilin’ mad.”
    “Well sir, is that a fact?” Uncle Sagamore asked.
    Murph nodded. “And I found out who he is. He’s new around here, but I understand he’s one of those Minifees from down in the south end of the county. They’re crooked as a jar full of pretzels, and meaner’n cat’s milk when somebody gets the best of ’em.”
    Uncle Sagamore took out his tobacco and bit off a chew. “Hmmm,” he says. “I reckon I have heard of ’em, come to think of it.”
    “Anyway, I’d watch out for him,” Murph says.
    They talked a little more, about the weather, and how election year always seemed to be hard on the crops, and Murph said business was pretty slow at the pool hall because it was hard to get good refreshments for the players. He’d been buying a little pomegranate juice from a man over in Potter County, but it