The Alliance Herald

LAST FEW DAYS UNEVENTFUL FOR COMMISSIONERS
NOT A SINGLE NEW CHARGE OF SKULDUGGERY
And So County Fathers Proceed to Indict Themselves and Enjoy the Sensation

A Herald reporter came upon a session of the county commissioners Monday afternoon. Every few days for the past three or four weeks, the reporter has had to interview one or more of the county board in regard to alleged derelictions of one of its members, and he has got to the point where he approaches their offices with fear and trembling—sometimes with one, sometimes with the other, and often with both. The last time he saw the commissioners, everything was peaceful, but a lot of noise was coming from behind the closed doors, so he used caution, tact and diplomacy.

He threw his hat in. He waited four minutes. When the hat didn't come out, he went in.

All three of the commissioners were present. On the table in front of them was a big pile of claims against the county. The commissioners were swearing at them. They would take off the top one and swear at it. Then they'd take the bottom one and swear at it. Occasionally they would take one out of the middle and give it what was coming to it. If they tired of this procedure, they'd take a chance and cuss at the whole pile.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," said the reporter.

George Duncan growled the answer. It was the proper answer, and the reporter felt relieved, especially so when Commissioner Hashman and Commissioner Carrel joined in the greeting.

The reporter felt cheered enough to try to borrow a cigar. He didn't get it, so he used one of his own and borrowed a match.

The Time-killers

"Why all the excitement," asked the reporter. Commissioner Duncan explained. "Every time we get to going good, and think we see the bottom of this pile, someone comes in and kills an hour or two of our time.

The reporter's ears turned red, but paled again when the chairman of the board continued: "We've had half a dozen fellows in here this afternoon growling about something," he said. "We don't mind the ones who don't growl. Sit tight."

The reporter sat tight.

Commissioner Hashman broke the silence. "What's The Herald going to print this week?" he asked. "There isn't a single new scandal about the commissioners, and all the old ones are played out," he said. "We kinda hate to be left out of the limelight. Isn't there something else mean you can think up to say about us."

The reporter confessed himself baffled. He told them that everything had been said better than his feeble abilities could do it.

"Well," said Commissioner Hashman, "your readers shall not be disappointed. Say this week that the commissioners are all horse-thieves. No: don't say that—it isn't exactly true. Say that we have been stealing horses all winter, but that since the bottom dropped out of the horse market, we've quit. There isn't any profit in stealing horses any more. In fact, the price of hay is so high that as soon as the grazing season is over we may have to take some of 'em back because we can't feed them. Two of us are going to start stealing chickens tomorrow. Maybe we can get the other one to join us. We're working on him."

The reporter took a lot of notes.

Admits Stealing Corn.

Chairman Duncan spoke up. "That isn't the worst of it. Say that they're likely to get a warrant out for me for stealing corn—a lot of it. I didn't really steal it, of course—all I did was help Tom James steal it. We took a dozen ears of corn from the Lichty place. Tom James got it, but I suppose I'm guilty, as I carried it out of the field for him."

George Carrel joined in. "No," he said, "I haven't done anything the last day or two in the grafting line, except work for the county. This afternoon, for half an hour or so, I helped the janitor cut weeds around the court house. He didn't know it, but I'm going to tell him about it. From now on, I'm going to let him do it. Come to think of it, I can draw my pay just watching him. There are some more weeds that need cutting."

Cal Hashman added a word or two about the weeds. "I've got plenty of them at home to cut," he said, "and I'm willing the janitor should do it at the court house. George Carrel can if he wants to; I won't, even if they pay me for it."

Commissioner Carrel again spoke up. "We aren't through yet," he said. "It's been a big session, with lots of work to do, and we aren't through yet. Some of the fellows who are looking for opportunities to crab will say that we're taking too long to do the work this month, in order to get our big salaries as commissioners."

"Tell them for me," said Cal Hashman as Duncan picked up two or three stacks of claims and shoved them into the box, "that we're going to take three or four more days at this, probably, and that we're taking our time to it. We're just plumb reckless about the way we're throwing the taxpayers' money away."

The commissioners filed out of their office, and the reporter went his way. No bottles were passed, and there was nothing else to do. He concludes, however, that the commissioners are sitting easy and aren't at all worried over the dozens of charges and counter-charges that have been coming their way, hot and heavy, the past few weeks. Even the threat of a recall hasn't moved them to make their peace with their detractors. They say it don't do any good to try to be nice to their enemies. Maybe they're right about it.