Rocky Mountain husbandman. [volume] (Diamond City, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1879-12-04

ne looked like another man, but he was
still the same Armstrong, nevertheless. He
was not long in finding an opportunity to
try a new profession. Walking forth in his
fresh outfit, lie had just concluded a long
talk with himself about his bright prospects
when he halted in front OF Il large tent with
a sign on it, Miners Rest Armstrong
went in. 1t did not seem to him that he
stald very long, but it was long enough to
work a wonderful revolution in his feelings.
When he came out he was A changed man
mat is TO say, he was a "changeless'' man.
lie was thunderstruck, amazed, bewildered.
He had lost his money, lost his new pros
pect, lost his selt-conceit-lost everything
out his new clothes and his old habit of
talking to himself. 1t is useless to saw that
Armstrong was very mad. But there was
no one to be mad at but Armstrong him
self, so self number two was in for a rough
lecture.
Now, Armstrong, you are a nice speci-
men-you fooi-you bilk-ycu dead beat
you inf Well, / need not repeat all the
hard things he said. Like King Richard,
he found within himself no pity for HIM
SELF"
But mere words were not sufficient. 1t
was a time for action. But Armstrong
never once thought of shooting, drowning,
hanging Or any other form of suicide. He
was altogether too original, as we'll as too
sensible for that. Yet he was resolved on
something real and practical in the way of
retormatory punishment. He felt the need
OF a self-imposed decree of bankruptcy,
that should render the present failure as
complete as possible, and prevent a similar
course of foolishness in the future.
80 the broker firm of "Armstrong e.
Sell" went forth in meditation, long and
deep. Some OF his thoughts were almost
too deep for ntterance. But finally he stood
by the dusty road along which the freight
ing wagons were hauling supplies to the
mining camps up the Sacramento. One of
these wagons, drawn by six yoke Of oxen.
was passing. Snap, snap, snap, in slow,
irregular succession, came the keen, sting
ing reports of the long Missouri ox-whip.
"Ge-up! A-haw-a-haw! Wo-haw ~ shout
VA AHS 1tis 1AotOCSil ulC uTISGF, rs he
swung his whip and cast a sidelong glance
at the broken firm, and wondered "What
in thunder all them store-clothes was a-tloin'
thar Now, when Armstrong saw the
long column of white dust rising behind
that wagon he was taken with an idea. So
he shouted to the driver to know if he
might be allowed to walk in the road be-
hind the wagon.
"Get in and ride" said the driver.
NO. said Armstrong, Il wish to walk.n
Then walk, sou crazy fool was the ac-
commodating response, as the driver swung
his whip.
Then came the tug of war. Greek never
met Greek more tiercely than did the TWO
contending spirits composing the firm of
Armstrong & Self at that particular mo-
ment. "Now. Armstrong; said the itnpe-
rious head of the firm, "you get right into
the middle of that road, sir, and walk in
that dust, behind that wagon, all the way
to the Packers Roost, on the Yuba ~river.',
"What. with these clothes on? Why, it's
fifteen miles, and dusty all the way.'' mo
matter, sir, take the road. You s~quander.
your money at three-card monte; I'll teach
you a ~lesson.o
"Ge-up! A-haw-a-haw! shouted the
driver, as he glanced over his shoulder with
a curious mingling of pity, contempt and
wonder on his dusty face. More and more
spitefully snapped the swinging whip as the
slow-paced oxen toiled mile after mile I'M
der the heat of a September sun. And
there, in the road, trudged Armstrong be-
hind the wagon-slowly, YEARLY, thought
fully, but not silently. He was a man who
always spoke his thoughts.