Promoting Polecat Perkins

In Short

This novella is a classic piece of Western humor that follows a group of eccentric cowpunchers as they try to "promote" their local hermit, Polecat Perkins, into claiming a ten-thousand-dollar inheritance. The plot is a series of escalating misadventures, fueled by drunken impulsivity and the cowboys' profound, stubborn alienation from "civilized" Eastern society. It has survived as a quintessential example of the "Western comedy"—a genre that finds its heart not in gunfights, but in the absurdity of its own characters' wild, tall-tale sensibilities.

The Story

The story opens in the wide-open spaces of Montana, where Chuck Warner, a man who finds trouble as easily as he finds a drink, hears a tip from a transient detective: a wealthy Chicagoan named Jonathan Perkins has died, leaving a hefty reward for the discovery of his long-lost brother, Archibald. Chuck, ever the optimist, immediately decides that his scrawny, skunk-raising neighbor, Polecat Perkins, is the perfect man to claim the money. Joined by his cohorts—the tall, tenor-singing Telescope Tolliver, the heavy-set, poetry-reciting Muley Bowles, and our narrator, Henry Clay Peck—Chuck convinces the reluctant, unwashed Polecat to play the part.

The transition from the range to the rails is disastrous. The cowboys are hopelessly out of their element, constantly clashing with railroad staff, misinterpreting technology, and failing to understand the basic conventions of urban life. They arrive in the town of Beverley not as sophisticated heirs, but as a chaotic, gun-toting force of nature. Their attempt at a refined arrival turns into a farce; Polecat, left to his own devices, manages to wreck an automobile in a cemetery and eventually stumble into a high-stakes roadhouse.

The comedy reaches a fever pitch when the cowboys, seeking a drink, find themselves at a gambling den where they unwittingly save a desperate lawyer named Andy Geoffrey from his own incompetence. Through a series of violent, slapstick brawls and a high-speed car chase that ends with the group in the local jail, they barely keep their charade alive. When the "authorities" finally gather at the Perkins estate to verify Polecat's identity, the cowboys burst in, gun-toting and defiant, to rescue their man. Polecat, having realized that high-society life is far less pleasant than his quiet dugout, gladly abandons the inheritance. In the final, dry twist, it is revealed that Polecat actually bore the specific birthmark the estate was looking for—a raspberry-shaped mark on his back—but he kept his shirt on, intentionally sabotaging the scheme because he simply could not stand the thought of living in the city. The group retreats to the West, relieved to be poor, honest, and back in their natural element.

How It Unfolds

The scheme is hatched Chuck Warner brings his friends into a drunken plot to claim an inheritance. They identify their neighbor, Polecat, as the perfect stand-in for a dead man’s brother.

The train ride west The group boards a train for Chicago and immediately irritates the conductor with their habits, weapons, and total lack of social grace. They struggle to navigate the dining cars and the narrow aisles, resulting in constant, low-stakes conflict.

The cemetery wreck Upon reaching Beverley, Polecat manages to commandeer an automobile, circling a graveyard and smashing through a fence. The group is left to wander the road until they find a ride to a local roadhouse.

The roadhouse brawl The cowboys stumble into a gambling den and save a lawyer, inadvertently finding themselves in the middle of a police raid. A wild, destructive escape follows, involving a stolen police-patrol car and a crash.

The jailhouse finale The group lands in jail, nursing hangovers and bruises, before being released. They storm the Perkins estate to "rescue" Polecat from his own inheritance, only to find he has already lost interest in the money.

The People

Chuck Warner is the instigator. He is a man with a saint's eyes and a liar's tongue, whose inability to stay sober leads his friends into madness. He is the engine of the plot, driven by a desperate, imaginative desire to escape the monotony of cow-punching.

Polecat Perkins is the reluctant "heir." A scrawny, watery-eyed man who lives in a dugout and smells of skunk hides, he is hilariously unsuited for his role. He is defined by his deep suspicion of anything modern, from trains to bathtubs.

Telescope Tolliver and Muley Bowles serve as the skeptical, dry-witted ballast for the group. Telescope, the tall singer with a history of outrunning sheriffs, and Muley, the heavy-set man who recites his own poetry, provide the necessary muscle and sarcasm to keep the group moving.

Henry Clay Peck, the narrator, is the observer. He claims to be clean-minded and industrious, though he is just as prone to the group's collective lapses in judgment as the rest of them.

In Its Own Voice

"Chuck was and is the biggest liar unhung, and just as soon as he gets three drinks under his belt he hunts for some stranger to listen to him prevaricate."

The narrator introduces the reader to the driving force of the story’s chaotic plot.

"I’m goin’ back West where a man can get killed without gettin’ all bunged up."

Polecat expresses his profound dissatisfaction with the "civilized" nature of the East after his disastrous attempt to claim his inheritance.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this is a story about the irreconcilable gap between the frontier West and the developing urban East. The "argument" is not that one is better than the other, but that the two worlds are governed by entirely different sets of logic. The cowboys' failure to navigate the city—the etiquette, the machines, the law—is not presented as a moral failing, but as a cultural one. The humor stems from the refusal of the protagonists to "improve" themselves to fit the requirements of the wealthy. The ultimate twist—that Polecat could have actually succeeded—reinforces the theme that for these men, personal freedom and the comfort of their own environment are worth far more than the ten thousand dollars they initially sought.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the classic, deadpan humor of the early twentieth-century Western will find this a delight. It feels like a long, campfire tall tale, told with a rhythmic, colloquial cadence that is both precise and charmingly rough. The prose is remarkably visual, capturing the slapstick violence of the roadhouse scenes and the absurdity of the train travel with a distinct, punchy energy.

Modern readers should be prepared for the period-typical, casual disregard for the law and the occasionally abrasive, swaggering tone of the characters. This is a story from an era when "cowboy fiction" was written for a specific audience that valued grit and irreverence over polished sentimentality. There are no heroes here in the traditional sense; these are flawed, impulsive men, and the book makes no attempt to sanitize their behavior. If you enjoy character-driven comedy where the dialogue is as sharp as a spur and the plot is intentionally spiraling toward catastrophe, you will find this an engaging, memorable experience. It stays with you not because of its grand themes, but because of the vivid, eccentric picture it paints of a group of men who simply refuse to be anything other than themselves.