Eureka daily sentinel. [volume] (Eureka, Nev.) 1871-1887, 1884-04-13

| AOhu notOEes
Kansas City Star.
Six or seven years ago Judge Blackburn
was one Of the leading journalists of Ne
vada. His daughter Mary, then not quite
II years old, was a lovely girl-tall, 1.-THE
and with a glorious head of deep blonde
hair, of that peculiar shade that h~esitates
on the border line of the lightest brown.
They we're at that time at Silver City,
Nevada, and she was besieged with admir-
ers, whom the Judge e~ndeavored, with Q
popular sort of parental monopoly, to
keep at arms length. Probably the most
obnoxious Of all these to him was Harry
]. Norton, a bright young newspaper man,
who was publishing a typical mining camp
journal there. Norton was a romantic
looking fellow, dark-haired and handsome,
and had a history full Of incident and ad-
venture. He had been a soldier, and had
fought his way into Mexico; he had been
a scout and in Government employ; had
threaded the labyrinths of the Yellowstone
into the most marvellous fairy-land that
the foot of man ever trod; he was the sole
survivor of a wild raid OF the Apsches on
the ella river, and escaped by sheer and
desperate courage alone; he had been q
gold miner, q hunter all alone in the
leagues and leagues of prairie land. and,
above all, he was q keen observer, an easy
and graceful talker, and these knowing
incidents by flood and field" wove them
seves into his conversation, and lent it an
tnatfa hIn aharFn He a q man Af nm
doubted nerve; will power was a dominant
trait OF his character, and it is not at all
strange that he soon captivated the belle
OF the camp.
Judge Blackburn, however, regarded
him with dislike and suspicion. He said
freely that he considered him a danger
GUS and dissolute man, and declined to in
trust the future happiness of his child in
his hands. Norton loved her tenderly and
purely, and was not the man to be baked.
Next to himself the most prominent sutton
was q rich Mexican, who had drifted north,
and whose name has escaped the pen. He
was, however, rich, rather dashing, and a
really dangerous rival anywhere. Norton
fancied that he was standing in the way
and prejudicing the Judge against him,
and he lost no time in finding a pretext
for a quarrel and challenging him to a
duel. The challenge was instantly &C.
cepted, the Mexican, as the challenged
party, choosing Colts revolvers, at twenty
PAGES, and an early hour next morning as
the time.
Prompt to the minute they met. During
the night Norton had worked as usual at
his Office, coolly grinding out ''copy" for
the printers and correcting proof as nom
chalantly as though he was anticipating
nothing more serious than a good sleep at
the end of it. The last sheet of "copy" he
wrote was a brief obituary of himself, and,
hanging it on his hook, told the foreman,
without mentioning its nature, to run it in
the next issue in case he did not return.
The place selected for the duel was q
| level spot in the rear of some shattered
adobe houses. They stood back to back,
and at zone, two, three" were to wheel
| and fire. At "three" Norton turned de-
liberately and sent q bullet straight
through his opponents heart. The Mexi-
| cans ball had passed over his head.
It was yet in the early gray OF dawn, and
the journalist FASTENED to Blackburn's
house and told Mary plainly just what had
happened; also, that he must instantly fly.
II will go with you," she said.
She never re-entered the house. Norton
pIOCuIcu HCL WidPs AL WIG SohiRB 6A0 thCJ
| left together before the sun was up. OF
course she was soon missed, and, linking
her absence with the news of the duel,
| which reached him shortly, and Of Nor
| toms departure, Judge Blackburn did not
have much difficulty in arriving at an I'M
derstsnding of the case. He was a stern
| old man, and started in pursuit, fully de-
| termined, SO he often afterward said, to
| kill them both. His instant construction
was that the journalist had enticed the girl
| away, and, in the relentless old code of
| morality, he preferred death to dishonor.
Norton, however, had no such notion.
| They struck the stage and took passage, as
| any lady and gentleman might, for Vir-
ginia City. En- route the angered father
| pressed them so hard that they we're COM
| PEELED to abandon the stage, and, securing
| horses, finished the trip in the saddle.
| They arrived in Virginia City a half an
| hour ahead, and when. Judge Blackburn
| arrived he was confronted by a marriage
| certificate. Although he concluded not to
| do any killing, he never entirely forgave
| Norton, and returned to his home feeling
| that ne had been deeply wronged. Nobody
was particularly affected by the death of
| the Mexican, and the prosecution quietly
| died out for lack of interest.
For two years the young couple led a
rowing life, drifting wherever the shifting
fortune of nomadic Western journalism
| drew the husband. For a time they were
in the Black Hills, but some ''gold-brick"
| confidence men, whom Norton exposed,
| combined their influence to freeze him
out. His next objective point was Lead
Vile, and, reluctant to take his girl-wife
to so turbulent a camp, Norton sent her
home to her parents in Nevada, and went
to fight the battle alone. He was soon a
| popular character there, and became edi-
tor of the Chronicle, which had recently
been started.
While at Leadville Norton Published a
book, half romance and half history, en-
titled, "On the Yellowstone" 1t was the
idealized story of his adventures, and,
while it never resped the author q for
tune, its sale was wide. In 1879 hard
work and a reckless life broke Norton
down, and he was seized with pneumonia.
His wife was te~legraphed for and came in
on the big, numbering stage on the even
ing that he died. They took her to the
bare log cabin in which he lay. and the
seen Q at the bedside was pitiful beyond oil
words. In the delirium of grief she chung
to the corpse, and had to be finally. taken