Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1877-07-12
"TERROR NO. ~
The Boss Desperate of the Black
Hills.

heads was dumped out in Custer city, as
| wagon loads had been dumped out every day
before grass started, the first man to welcome
them to the infant city was chap five feet
high, and weighing accordingly. There was
| blood stain on his left cheek, scar on his
| right, and he had fierce eyes, a voice like
| roaring lion, and bad limp in one of his
| legs. He was whiting out a tent-pin with a
| big-bowie knife as the wagon drove up, and,
pushing the knife down the back of his neck,
he lifted up Henry rifle, ran his eye over the
| crowd, and called out in an awful voice:
''Is there anybody in that crowd looking
for Terror No. Kase if there is, here am
and I'm just aching to be shot full of bullets
weighing pound apiece!"
No one was looking for him. Some looked
at him, and some looked across the street on
purpose not to see him, while there was q
uniform movement towards the hip pockets.
Il didn't know but that some of you might
have come out here from New York or Bos-
ton to plant me under the sweet jessamine
or the climbing morning glory!" chuckled
the Terror, as he rested the butt of his rifle
on the ground and fished up six shooter
from his boot leg.
There were men from New York and Bos-
ton in the party, but they didn't want to bury
anybody just then.
| Il don't own this town." continued the
Terror, as he laid his infant armory across the
head of barrel; Il don't own foot of
ground or share in any of the public build
ings erected at the expense of the taxpayers,
bus when l stand On Washington Square and
utter one yell this whole town quakes. I'm
Terror No. l. There's one or two other Ter
rors around here, but I'm the boss-Tm the
reg'lar deaths head and cross bones of the
Black Hills region"
Before he had ceased speaking most of the
new. corners had disappeared, some looking
pale and anxious, and others feeling shivers
race up and down their backs.
| An hour later, when party of five stran-
gers from New England were making the
acquaintance of some of the internal
beverages on sale in one of the shanty saloons,
and at the same time pumping the proprietor
about prospects, in walked the Terror. He
looked as fierce as a catamount cheated out of
her dessert, and there was an awful growl in
his voice as he called out:
Give o'clock by Omaha time, and haven't
killed or been killed this whole day long!
Turn loose you pet grizzlies, unhitch your
whirlwinds, and let dozen wild lions come
for me at once"
"Take something to drink, my good friend"
mildly replied the saloonist. ''You are al
ways welcome here, but you don't drop in
half often enough. Don be afraid to pour
out all you want
ITO tell you the truth, Steve,' said the
Terror, as he poured out nearly half pint of
the worst whisky ever made, Il came in here
to kill some one; but you are white man
clear down to your toe nails, and l won't
raise no row. That's good whisky, that is,
and if you want anybody in Custer city put
under ground, just give me his name."
! At this moment three men on horseback
came down the street, and the Terror jumped
out with screech and shouted:
s'Here's the hollyhock you are looking for !!
Here's the modest violet who wants to be
carved up and fed to the wolves!'
They weren't looking for him, and they
got away on the gallop. The party from the
East went out among the digglngs and were
absent a whole week. When they returned
to Custer city they inquired for the Terror,
and hotel keeper replied:
Eyes; they did use to call him the Terror,
l believe, but they didn't know him. He was
whooping around here in his usual awful style
three or four days ago, swearing that he must
kill somebody, when tinsmith from Dayton,
Ohio, took his rifle and bowie knife away,
spit tobacco juice on his hat, and then kicked
him the whole length of the street. The
Terror was an awful coward, gentlemen-a
regular ragbaby under the bed, and he'll never
be seen in Custer again"