The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1879-11-20
JOE, THE WOLF.
A Tragic Episode of the Sage Brush.
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however, ana a rough one. A small
army of teamsters and miners, and a
cOterie of three-card monte men who
made it their headquarters, kept the
otherwise peaceful village in a ferment
of wild excitement. The course of these
reckless denizens was marked with pc
riodical shooting scrapes, frequent fistic
encounters and continuous drunken
bouts.
Half-dozing one day in saloon,
was aroused by the remark most en-
phatically delivered: g It's fourteen
inches between my eyes, and 1 smell
like a wolf!'' The speaker, large,
magnifcently proportional ruffian, sup
plemented the peculiar description of
himself with: - Pards, come and drink
With the exception of myself every man
in the room gathered around the bar,
addressing the powerful stander of treats
as Joe. The glasses were filed and
tipped, when he turned and noticed me.
1 saw the quick, wicked flash of anger
in his eyes. After a momentary survey
he broke the silence, and this terse dia-
logue followed:
g Yer from the city, amt yerP"
g Yer don't know me, do yerP'
''I don't.''
Take a drink and git acquainted,
then"
"Don't drink
" Smoke, then"
Don't smoke.'
s' Do yer shootP''
80 Not worth continental -
Ny years of assurance acquired as a
correspondent, and my knowledge of
aggressive characters, did not prevent
me from feeling some uneasiness as 1
observed my interrogatOr's deXterOus
fingers slide to his belt and grasp the
hilt of his " whistler" An unpleasant
termination of the conversation was
avoided by the strange appearance of a
woman who stepped from the overland
train, Just then arrived, and directed her
steps towards the saloon. She was
rather a cOmely looking female of SO or
more, and evidently i'll and suffering
from the effects of an extended debauch.
Joe stared at her as one looks at the
arisen dead for a moment, and then
walked quietly to the door, threw him
self into the saddle and rode awy. AS
he passed the woman she lifted her
! hands imploringly towards him and fell
| to the earth unconscious. She was borne
to the hotel, and the kind woman of the
village did what they could for her. She
| spoke no word when she recovered from
her swoOn, but lay quietly, unmindful of
/ her life fast ebbing away.
During the day [ inquired of Broken
nOsed Charley, who knew every body
| and every thing about the farm, regard
! ing the man Joe. Charley said that lit
tie was known of him, except that he
mined some, gambled some, drank like
mad, and altogether was a bad lot. He
had killed two or three men, and had
! been shot and cut himself several times.
He invariably preceded an invitation to
| imbibe or the shooting of a man, by the
expression: "It's fourteen inches be-
tween my eyes, and smell like wolf. -
From this idiOsyncrasy and his blood
thirsty disposition he was known and
dreaded as " The Wolff Prudent peo-
pie, however, addressed him as Joe.
The Wolf returned to town the next
day, and on entering the saloon from
which he had made his hurried exit
quietly asked:
90 Has that ar woman gOneP''
He was told that she was sick and
could live but very short time. A
great change came over his face; the
hard burrows of dissipation and crime
were transformed to the pitiable lines of
sorrow. Not noticing the dram prof
/. fered by the bar-keeper, he hastened to
the hotel and made his way to the bed
side of the dying woman. Abruptly he
questioned:
Was yer follering himP"
mo, Joe; was hunting him.
"SureP'i
g So help me God!"
, The poor, white face, SCARED and
deep-seamed by excesses and sin, grew
radiant with gladness as Joe kneeled
down and kissed her. With seal OF
forgiveness, with the pressure of his lips
but half returned, she sank back dead
Through the service at the simple
burial the following day Joe stood with
, uncovered head, but his bronzed and
, immOvable features betrayed no emo
ton, nor vouchsafed any clew to the
mystery that enshrouded the cOffineC
; outeast and himself.
The evening of the funeral the Vol
called on me at my rooms. Seating him
! self, without preface he said:
"As a man of sense an no coward
z yer kin look at brave mans agony il
the right way. The past I've hidden fol
, twenty years, fur / amt the kind to car
= ry my heart on my sleeve for davis t.
peck at. But thar's a feeling as though
I'd choke if 1 didn't talk to some one
The woman buried to-day war my wife
Here's some letters the wimin folk
/
y them over while / chin, fur I'm slow Ol
: the read. We war married in the State
: when she war sixteen an l just come o
A age. A bit after it 1 got the gold feve
r an went to CalifOrny. In a couple o
4 years l made quite pile, an went hOm
q fur her. She war changed, an it warn
II long before 1 heard the stories, an foun
- the truth, that she had gone wrong. II
q war fine-haired chap who had com
r. into town while 1 war away. I war
Il likely young fellow then, but the bloy
% turned me into devil. l went fur hin
70 but he heard of it an slid out for Cal
# forny. l followed him, an fur twent
st years I've bin hunting him all over thi
If coast, voice of he'll has urged me OF
10 an I've killed men that the taste
ot blood might keep fierce my hope of T,
venge. I've never found him. Durin
these years I've heard about her ono
in a while, an how she war drinking an
,f going to the dogs. I'd allus meant
- see her when I'd settled with him. II
is Eame war Bill Armstrong"
I0 The letters taken from the dea
y woman, which l had been looking owe
in were mostly answers to inquiries r
10 garding the whereabouts of her hu
h band An unfinished letter of her ow
n to some friend in the East, and dated
" few days previous to her death, Shove
of that to this poor, lost creature, with Il
is grasp of death upon her, there had con
Il back to her the glory of her first Al
+. only pure love, and the unconquerab
st desire to die ut his feet, freed from Il
or burden of his curse. Strangely enoug
another letter gave information of B
Armstrong, and stated that he was Ii
We ing near Boise City, in Idaho. The
of two ] read to the desnerafe man Ezho s