Eureka daily sentinel. [volume] (Eureka, Nev.) 1871-1887, 1877-06-19
TERROR NO. 1.
Tho Regular Deaths Head and
Cross.bOnes of the Black Hills
Resi On'-Brought to Grief by an
Ohio TinSntfh

O A@>
ResiOn'-Brought to Grief by an
Ohio Tinsmfth.
The other day, when a wagon load
of bullheads was dumped out in Gus
ter City, as wagon loads had been
dumped out every day before since
grass started, the first man to welcome
them to the infant city was a chap five
feet high, and weighing accordingly.
There was a blood stain on his left
cheek, a scar On his right, and he had
fierce eyes, a voice like a roaring lion,
and a 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 a 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. 1? Kase ii there
is, here / ann; and Pm just aching to
be shot full of DULLES weighing a
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 a uniform movement
towards hip pockets.
81 didn't know but that some of you
might have come out here from New
York or Boston to plant me under the
sweet jessainine or the climbing morn
ing-glory!" chuckled the Terror, as he
rested the butt of his rifle on the
ground and tisEed up a six-shooter
from his boot leg.
There were men from New York and
Boston in the party, but they didn't
want to bury anybody just then.
q don't own this town." continued
the Terror, a. he laid his infant ar
mory across the head of a barrel; al
don't W a foot of ground or a share
in any of the public buildings erected
at the expense of the taxpayers, but
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 Terrors around here,
but Pm the boss; Pm the regular
deaths head and cross-bones of the
Black Hills region"
Before he had ceased speaking most
of the new-comer had disappeared,
some looking pale and anxious, and
others feeling shivers race upand down
their backs.
An hour later, when a party of five
strangers 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: Five O'Clock by Omaha time,
aud | haven't killed or been killed this
whole day long! Turn loose your pet
grizzlies, unhitch your whirlwinds,
and let q dozen wild lions come for me
at once!"
Take something to drink, my good
friend" mildly replied the saloonist.
You are always welcome here, but
you don't drop in half often enough.
Don't be afraid to pour out all you
want"
ITO tell you the truth, Steve'' said
the Terror, as he poured out nearly
half a pint of the worst whisky ever
made, II came here t kill some one;
but you are a white man clear down
to your toe nails, and / won't raise no
row.. That's good whiskey, that is,
and if you want anybody in Custer
SHy Fub utiuCi kiouuu, Juos Sifo ZIG
his NAME"
At this moment three men on horse
back came down the street, and the
Terror jumped ri with a screech and
shouted:
Here's the h~olyhock you are look
ing tor. 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 diggings and were absent a whole
week. When they returned to Custer
City they inquired for the Terror, and
a hotel keeper replied:
Eyes; they did use to call him the
Terror, | believe, but they didn't know
him. He was w%hooping around here
in his usual awful style three or four
days ago, swearing that he must kill
somebody, when a 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 reg
gular rag baby under the bed, and he'll
never be seen in Custer again."
Dilemma of n Bridegroom.
| nur old tr;and not With a