Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-07-17

resounded with childless fathers cry:
"Oh had my son again, even though
| he were thief"
THE TRAGEDY OF THE CLIFF.
We were camped on a spur of the
Rocky Mountains, near the brink of an
awful precipice. Sitting in row, on a
fallen pine, were Charley Andrews, who
was a Yankee, tall and young, myself, land
dark faced stranger. On fiat rock on
the opposite side of the campfire, but in
such a position that the smoke did not
raham Lewis, stout old trapper.
started out from Virginia City alone, on
a prospecting tour. On the afternoon in
question I had encountered Lewis and
Andrews, ''pards'' of long standing, who
invited me to camp out with them. While
we were making fire the stranger ap-
peared, and being asked to stay by the
trappers, Immediately dropped his pros
pector's kit and began to help about the
fire. He was supie-jointed, black
whiskered man of uncertain age, whom
any one who had travelled in the West
would take to be gambler and cut throat
of the worst type.
We had now eaten our supper of bears
meat and salmon, and were discussing
gold and gulches-all but Abe Lewis,
who smoked his big pipe in the silence
of deep thought. His young 'pard" had
whispered that yarn would soon be
forthcoming, and for one was ready and
willing to drop all other topics whenever
he designed to begin.
1t was an autumn evening, just grow
ing dusky and cool enough to bring out
the comfort of campfire. Suddenly,
the trapper looked up, took out his pipe,
blew forth big cloud Scf smoke, and
said, as if his hearers were acquainted
more or less with the facts of the case:
"George Atwood war as square young
chap as ever lived, and that makes 1t a
good deal wuss The man that murdered
him is the meanest skunk
The trapper paused, and l fancied his
keen blue eyes were fixed on me alone;
but he soon withdrew his gaze to the
gambler, who returned it with cool in
difference.
ssTell the story l said, impatiently
"Oh, I'll 60 on with it full fast enough
fur ye," he replied little testify, as he
eyed me again. 'sI'm going to state all
the facts first, cause thar's some.here
what don't know about ito
This might imply that 1 knew some
thing about it, but l did not With a
strange light in his eyes, an expression 1
could not understand, the old hunter all
the while kept looking at me or at the
stranger, or at both, as he went on:
George came to Beaver Ridge dead
broke, and I took him under my wing I
then helped him stake out claim ad-
| joining mine. 1t turned out to be the
best one in the place. George worked
| in the gulch alongside o. me all summer,
and some days he made as high as twenty
| dollars
'In the fore part of September my
claim got played out, and pushed on to
Montana. Soon after l left, a gang of
sharps lit down on the Ridge and begun
to beat the boys out of their gold Thar
was five in the camp, and they brought
keerds, and dice, and every other blamed
| continuance. One of 'em started bank,
another saloon, and the rest roped in
the victims. They soon owned half the
dust in Beaver Ridge. But that did not
satisfy 'em. They wanted to clean out all
the men in town, especially them as hung
back and Influenced others to keep out of
their place.
| George Atwood didn't take no stock
in 'em, and he wasn't afraid to say so.
They heerd how George had struck it
rich, and went for him with their palaver.
One of the gang, who called himself Jim
Cortland, kept follerin' George up every
night, and tryin' to git him to gamble
with him. But he couldn't make 1t
work. George was too smart for him at
| that game, and so he tried another. One
morning George was found outside the
camp with his throat cut from ear to ear
HIS two thousand dollars in gold was
gone out of his shanty They counted
noses, and found Jim Cortland had lit
out the night before.
George had good many friends, and
in short time big crowd started after
JIM. His former pards iined IN with the
rest, and swore they'd shoot him on sight
for disgracin' EN-. The boys tracked him
pretty close for two days, and had just
got sight on him, when band of red
skins rushed out On 'em from a patch OF
woodland on the right. They got drove
back to the ridge little faster'n they lief,
it, and Jim escaped"
The old hunter paused, but still KEEP
his fierce eyes bent on me and the gam
bier. The freight shone on his face, anC
he looked as though he wanted to teal
the murderer from limb to limb.
We had remained sitting on the log,
in the middle, the whiskered mar
on the right, the tall Yankee on the left
when the latter rose and approached the
fire.
Cit back thar, Charley" said Lewis
"when l talk want to face the whole
crowd"
The two ''pards'' exchanged glances.
The young man returned to the log
but, instead of going to his former place
he sat down at the gamblers right hand