LITTLE PRAIRIE FLOWERS

William smiled at her. " Then I would sure appreciate your praying for me.” He turned back to the minister and telegraph operator. Reaching in his vest he lifted an envelope and handed it to Arder. “This is what I talked to you about Sunday. Will you keep it in a safe place and if something bad were to happen to me on this trip, make sure it gets into the hands of my dear wife?”
“Sure I will. I told you I would.”
Prisca leaned forward from her chair. “Is it a will, Mr. Williston?”
“Something like that. The Preacher here knows about it. In case I don’t make it back – or if anything ever does happen to me, I want Sadie to know where I hid my valuables.”
“Oh my,” she uttered. “It sounds like you’re expecting something bad to happen on this trip.”
“These are dangerous days down South. The Yankees are keeping all the fighting down there. Anyway,” he looks back to the elderly man, “I don’t want to tell my family where it’s hid or they might be in danger.”
Reverend Arder squinted. “In danger from who?”
“You never can tell. There’s a lot of mean folks out there.”
“You don’t need to tell a preacher that.”
“And I haven’t always been a good soul. I had a life before I married Sadie. Somebody might be holding a grudge against me and take it out on my family. So, put it in a safe place and give it to Sadie only if I don’t make it back.”
“Why don’t you put your treasures in the bank?”
“I don’t trust them.”
“But you know the government is close to creating a national bank with a lot of securities.”
“It’s not secure enough for me. I know how easy it is to rob a bank.”
“You do?” remarked the minister’s wife, looking up from her knitting with disbelief.
He chuckled. “What I mean is that banks are too easy to get into. I would prefer to stay with our original plan.”
The preacher nodded. “I know the perfect place to hide it,” he said, folding the envelope and sliding it inside his light coat. “I’ll put it there tonight. But I’m not a young man.”
“Seventy-three,” Prisca interjected.
“Yeah. I’m seventy-three and I might get sick and go home to the good Lord before you do, William.”
“Then you might tell someone else about the envelope – someone you trust. Not your wife either.”
Prisca cackled. “I’m not as old as that old coot.”
“No, ma’am, I’m sure you’re not. But I don’t want you to be in danger either – in case someone comes looking for my valuables.”
Prisca suddenly looked anxious. “You frighten me, Mr. Williston.”
Reverend Arder went on. “I’ll tell the young minister, my assistant, Smythe, the one who joined me last year. He really is quite young – and inexperienced – but you will have two of us who know the whereabouts of the letter.”
“Thank you, Reverend. I plan to leave in the morning. Don’t say anything about this to my family. I want them to be safe.”
Arder nodded in agreement.
“Mr. Williston, sir,” began Prisca. “You worry me. I feel as though there is something about this trip you’re not telling us.”
“Prisca, dear, that is his business.” He held out his open palm to his customer. “We’ll take care of everything. Now that will be three dollars.”
William Williston tendered a handful of large, golden coins that jangled noisily during the exchange. He bid the couple good-bye and vacated the little square office. Arder was admiring the pretty gold coins. These sure are some shinning gold pieces,” he said. “I suspect William might have brought these back with him from California when he was out there panning some years back.”
“Reckon so,” his wife agreed. “Folks say he struck it rich out there.”
“Well, gold ain’t everything. It’s just street pavement in Heaven.” He bent low and lifted a small metal box from under the counter when a sharp pain abruptly stabbed him in the chest.
“I worry about him,” stated Prisca just before she heard the rattling of the metal box when her husband set it down hard on the counter top.
Reverend Arder didn’t answer. She looked up and saw that he was laying across the counter with his arms tucked beneath his body. “Jacob! What’s the matter?”