Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1884-02-22

hC huOW tudJ lue iODpSis, once IN inc
wide area beneath him, would be at the
mercy of his aim, and he knew also that
in that there was no mercy, and so, as
he had only to wait for his prey, the
sleep he sought and found was needfuI
and refreshing.
Mr.. Blueskin's slumbers were light,
and he awoke at the sound of voices
which announced to him that the rob-
bers had returned. But he did not stir.
He knew that their ears, fine and wary
as his own, would detect the lightest
sound made by him, and so he laid
awake, as he had slept-on his back
and waited. Men who hunt learn to
wait. He could hear the robbers, who
spoke IN Mexicaa, winch he perfectly
understood, discussing the luck of the
nights foray, and he judged that 1t must
be after midnight. Soon a cracking
noise and sudden brightness, which
threw into bold relief the dark arL.s and
darker foliage of the stunted pines, and
a flying column of bright sparks, which
chased each other toward the stars, told
him that fire had been kindied, and he
knew that it would not be long ere the
robbers would be at supper. And this
was what he was waiting for. While
eating and drinking, their vigilance
would relax and give him an opportu-
nifty to take in the situation. And, as
song and laughter arose and mingled,
he stealthily turned upon his face. The
robbers were seated upon the ground,
not fifty yards away, their backs toward
him, their faces toward the fire which
threw its weird light upon the entrance
to their retreat. In one corner, to the
right, was log hut, and near it stood a
rude stable built of poles and rooted
with branches, within which were three
bronchos. On the ground were saddles
and brides, blankets, rubbish, and two
or three empty mail bags. Mr.. Blueskin,
lying face downwards, took up his
"Winchester, aimed carefully-a flash
o report and the man in the middle fell
forward almost into the fire. The two
others leaped to their feet, and, with
ready rifles, glared angrily in the direc-
tion of the smoke of Blueskin's gun.
They saw nothing, or, rather, saw a Sec
ond flash, and ere the report awoke an
echo which tore the air with long,
splitting sound, another robber fell
writhing in the cinders. The third
might have ran, or he might have fired /;
what his convulsive movement meant will
never be explained, for he fell dead
across his companions before the echo of
the second shot had melted.
For the space of at least a minute, Mr..
Blueskin lay as silent and motionless as
the three staring corpses in front of him.
Then, turning on his elbow a glance at
the Blanca peak, above which the Polar
Star and its pointers" glimmered
brightly, told him that it wanted yet
two hours of daylight, and so he went to
sleep again, while the unreplenished fire
dwindled from red embers to blackened
ashes.
AS the sound of the morning gun of Fort
Garland cleft the air he was ON his feet
once more, and rapidly journeying to-
ward the place where the day before he
had cached his broncho, and ere the sun
had mounted above the tree tops Mr..
Blueskin, on his broncho, rode within the
Robbers Roost. Alighting, he walked
up to the corpses lying stark and staring
in the cold, rosy light of morning, and
gazed at them for few moments thought
fully. Then he took his way to the hut,
within which, having found some food,
he made tolerable meal, the first since
he had quilted his rancho on the Trim
chera.
Going toward the stable, his foot struck
against one of the empty mail-sacks; and
he stopped and picked it from the ground
and once more walked over to where the
three grinning corpses lay sprawling in
the black and Redeemed ashes. He knelt
by them. Was it to say prayer
Scarcely. Mr.. Blueskin is not devout
TO search for bootyl Perhaps.
At any rate, when Mr.. Blueskin arose
from his knees and whistled to his bron-
cho, which came to him at once, the
mail-sack which he lashed to the pommel
of his saddle was no longer empty. And
as Mr. Bueskin rode slowly out of the
Robbers Roost, foul birds hovered over
the three ruddy corpses.
At noon of the same day Mr.. Blueskin,
with the mail-sack, appeared before the
commanding officer of Fort Garland,
and in the quiet, halt melancholy draw
which marks him, said:
"Well, gineral, I've got em!"
To which the commandante replied po.
litely:
"Ah, yes. Take scat, Mr.. Blueskin.
Got 'em, did you say9 Yes, certainly;
but-er-got what?"
"Them fellers wot the reward was to
be fur And I'd like writin' or somo
kind of shown from you, so as l kin
git to go to Denver an git it."
"Ah! yes. In-deed WE'LL we'll,
very good of you, T'm sure. Buick
cuse me-what evidence have you to
show that you are entitled to the re.
wardg
Mr.. Blueskin gazed for moment with
melancholy eyes at the general, and then
slowly untying the mouth of the mail
sack, he turned it upside down, and
from it rolled across the floor three cory
heads.
Slowly and sadly, he asked:
"Will them do9"
Mr.. Blueskin got the reward.