Butte record., 1855-02-10
NUMBER7A
BEING OUT.
4 RIGHT.HANDER BADLY INVEST

Thank, you, don't care if l do
said fast young man, with large pres
sed brick in his hat, as he surged
up to, the Indian that stands IN
front of Van Colts tobacco-store In
Broadway with bunch Of cast-iron ci-
gars in his hand. rA take one, smoke
sometimes, and he reached out 70 take
the preferred weed, but tho Indian
wouldn't give it up. 20
He hung on to the cigars like grim
death.
Look here, old copperhead,' said the
fast young man, none of that, no tricks
upon travellers, or there'll be a muss,
you and I'll fall out, somebody'll get
punch in the head
The Indian said never word, but
held on the cast-iron cigars. He was
calm, dignif.d, unmoved, as an Indian
should be, looking his assalant straight
in the face, and no muscle moving SIM
gle hair.
sYes! yes! Look at me old feather
head I'm one of 'em, Pm around, I'm
full weight, potato measure heaped up
and he placed himself in a position, threw
back his coat, and squared off for
fight. rs.
All the time the Indian said never q
word, locked without the least alarm un-
winkingly straight INTO the face of the
fast young man, still holding out the ci-
gars in a mighty friendly sort of way.
The young man was plucky, and just
in condition to resent any sort OF in
suit, or no sort of insult at all. He was
ready to 90 in but the calmness and
imperturbability Of the Indian rather
cowed him, and he was disposed to rea-
son the matter.
'Ill take one,' said he, certainly;
said so before. 1 freeze to good cigar
Pm one of the smokers. My father was
one of the smokers, he was one of the
old sort, and I'm edition number two,
revised and corrected with notes, au-
thor's handwriting on the title-page,
and copyright secured. Yes, III take
one. All right, old red-skin, III take
one.'
But the Indian said not word, all
the time looking straight in the face Of
the fast young mar, and holding on the
cigars. f.-t-s
Look here, old gimlet-eye, Pm get
ting riled, my backs coming Up, and
you and I'll have turn smell of that,
old copperhead > and be thrust his FIST
under the nose Of the cast-iron Indian,
who said not word, moved not q mus
Gle, but kept right on. looking into the
face of the fast young man, as if not
caring fig for his threats, or taking in
all odor of his fist.
very WE'LL said the fast young man,
6 I'n agreeable around look to
your ugly mug. old pumPkin-head; > and
he let 60 highlander, square against
the nose of the cast-iron Indian, who
never moved an inch, nor stirred mus
cle--looking with calm, unchanged dig
nifty, as before, in the face of his enemy.
HALO cried the fast young man, in
utter bew,lderment, as he Ieeled back
halfway across the sidewalk. with the
blood dripping from bis, skinned knuck-
les. Halo! here's q go-here's An
eye-opener-bere's q thing to hunt for
round corner. Pm satisfed, old IRON
face, am. Enough said between gen.
tlemen.'
Jast then he caught sight Of the TOM
ahawk and scalping. knife in the b II Of
the savage. and his hair began to rise.
The Indian seemed to be making up
his mind to use them.
Hold on, cried the fast young man,
as he lodged round the awning-rost,
Z Hold on-none of that, / apologize -
1 squat knock under. Hold on, 1
say he continued, as the Indian seemed
to scowl with peculiar 6erceness,-sHold
on! Very well, I'm of-Pve business
down the street-people are home watt
ing for me-can't stay and he bolted
like quarter horse down Broadway,
and his cry of hold on died away a.
he vanished beyond the lamp-ights up
Columbia street. rs, !. s,.,ag,