Burchell Daggett, an Eastern society
man from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, that had come to Red Gap that spring to be
assistant cashier in the First National, through his uncle having stock
in the thing. He was a very pleasant kind of youngish gentleman, about
thirty-four, I reckon, with dark, parted whiskers and gold eyeglasses
and very good habits. He took his place among our very best people right
off, teaching the Bible class in the M.E. Sabbath-school and belonging
to the Chamber of Commerce and the City Beautiful Association, of which
he was made vice-president, and being prominent at all functions held in
our best homes. He wasn't at all one of them that lead a double life by
stopping in at the Family Liquor Store for a gin fizz or two after work
hours, or going downtown after supper to play Kelly pool at the
Temperance Billiard Parlours and drink steam beer, or getting in with
the bunch that gathers in the back room of the Owl Cigar Store of an
evening and tells these here suggestive stories. Not that he was
hide-bound. If he felt the need for a shot of something he'd go into the
United States Grill and have a glass of sherry and bitters brought to
him at a table and eat a cracker with it, and he'd take in every show,
even the Dizzy Belles of Gotham Big Blonde Beauty Show.
Pages:
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234