The Ransom of Red Chief

Years ago, attending university in Washington, D.C. I discovered a wonderful used book store run by the Salvation Army. I would every couple of weeks or so make my way down there to see what new unexpected delights had made their way in to that jumble. The attractions were two fold. Their pricing was just right for a student's budget - 50 cents for a paperback and a dollar for hardbacks. Exceptionally fine hardbacks might occassionally be priced up to something as high as $5 but that was rare. This pricing scheme in combination with the fact that Washington is a highly transient city with large numbers of well educated readers moving in and out all the time, meant that there was a lot to choose from and much that could be afforded.

You never knew what you might find. Signed editions from prominent politicians and other cultural leaders were more available in a used book store there than anywhwere else I have come across. A little bit of a bibliophile's heaven on earth.

One treasure which I came across one day, and which ultimately made it into my possession was a dated but tidy collection of the complete works of O.Henry. Hard bound books in red cloth, they lined up maybe ten or twenty in the set. Asking price? $10.

I had read a few of his short stories in English survey courses and had enjoyed them. I met this collection one week and salivated over them. But $10 on a student's purse? Besides, I was constrained by the usual dilemma of a book lover - where will I put them? I left them that first time. A couple of weeks later, they were sitll there, still deserving of a home. But still I broke free. They came home with me after the third trip to the store a month or so later. It wasn't right that they should be so abandoned there.

I sampled several stories from the collection, put them to the side, later graduated, moved, moved again, etc. Some decades later they still sit in a box in a storage unit, waiting for me to finally build that mountain house that will have a whole wing that is a library where all the books of my life will finally be free to stand together along yards and yards of shelves.

All this was brought to mind by a passing reference somewhere to Henry's short story, The Ransom of Red Chief. Well worth a read and a laugh here at Gutenberg or in this collection, Selected Stories.

I got the knife away from the kid and made him lie down again. But,
from that moment, Bill's spirit was broken. He laid down on his side
of the bed, but he never closed an eye again in sleep as long as that
boy was with us. I dozed off for a while, but along toward sun-up I
remembered that Red Chief had said I was to be burned at the stake
at the rising of the sun. I wasn't nervous or afraid; but I sat up
and lit my pipe and leaned against a rock.

"What you getting up so soon for, Sam?" asked Bill.

"Me?" says I. "Oh, I got a kind of a pain in my shoulder. I thought
sitting up would rest it."

"You're a liar!" says Bill. "You're afraid. You was to be burned at
sunrise, and you was afraid he'd do it. And he would, too, if he
could find a match. Ain't it awful, Sam? Do you think anybody will pay
out money to get a little imp like that back home?"

Presumably The Ransom of Red Chief was some part of the inspiration for Danny DeVito/Bette Midler's movie (funny but not for young ones) Ruthless People.