Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1888-07-11

moose of lariat was quickly placed about
his neck, and the other end thrown across
an overhanging limb, and made fast to
the trunk. Old Lape had his "quint"
raised in readiness to bring it down across
the flank of the doomed mans pony at
the word of command; all was ready for
the final act, when Bailey raised his head
and spoke.
Calling Tom Anderson to his side, he
said: "Tom, will you do favor for dy-
ing man?"
"What is it?" was the gruff reply.
II want you to promise to see that my
family gets what little property l leave.
They are poor, and will need it badly, Tom;
so, please promise. [ know you'll do 1t
if you say you will"
"Well, Bailey, I'll do it, if that's all you
want. You may rest easy on that score !;
I PROMISE" answered Tom, in softened
tone.
0Thank you, Tom; and now just one
thing more, please" continued the prison
er eagerly, "reach into my bosom and get
the picture that's there, and let me have
another look at my wife and children be-
fore die.
We all of US sat grouped about on our
ponies under the cottonwood during the
scene, and as Tom Anderson complied
with Bailey's request, and taking u picture
from the prisoners bosom held it before
him so that he could look at it, the sur
rounding group Of rough cowboys became
uttery absorbed in the scene.
Not whisper was uttered, and the
noise of the restive ponies, as they champ
ed their bits or stamped impatienly upon
the green sward, alone broke the solemn
stiffness.
With look of unspeakable tenderness,
Bailey glued his eyes upon the photograph
and held them there for fully minute.
Then his head dropped suddenly upon
his breast, and, with Il groan, he cried out
in despairing accents:
30 boys, boys! it's hard to die and leave
them all alone; and to die in such way,
too! 1t will kill my poor Mary, if she's
not dead already; know it will. ="
He no longer looked at the picture, but
Tom Anderson himself was gazing at it
instead. Long and earnestly he looked at
it, but did not speak a word. Then he
handed it to old man Lape, and it passed
from hand to hand until every man in the
party had taken long look at it. :,
A sweet, gentle woman's face looked
smilingly forth from the midst of the card,
while over each of her shoulders peered
a chubby face filled with childish glee and
innocence. On the border Of the card was
written, in a clear delicate hand: "Come
home soon, papa; we're so lonely without
you"
When the picture had gone the rounds
and Tom Anderson returned it reverently
to Bailey's bosom, the culprit raised his
head and said:
ut was for their sake, boys, that drove
the cattle off in such hurry. / got word
yesterday that my wife was dying, and 1
took the first steers could find in order
to get money to see her. It was wrong, l
suppose, but would have paid you for
every head took when / came back"
Like a flash Tom Anderson's knife was
out of its sheath. Aquick stroke, and the
rope about the prisoners neck was sew
ered.. Instantly Bailey's pony bore him
aside, and in his place, facing the crowd,
on his mustang sat Tom, with uplifted
hand and his eyes fairly blazing with
fierce excitement, while we were too much
amazed either to speak or move.
"That man speaks the truth !" he shout
ed. "He never intended to steal them
cattle. But whether he did or not it's all
the same to me; the man that lays finger
on him must do it over my dead body. If
1 had wife like that lady in the pictur',
an she was sick, I'd steal every critter on
the range to git to her, an the mans dog
that wouldn't. If there's any man here
that thinks different Pm ready to fight it
out with him right here and now."
For moment there was no response.
Then old man Lape spoke up:
"Well Tom," said he, "ye needn't talk
too mighty fierce, as no ones goin to fight
We, guess. Not that we're skeered of ye,
Tom. You mustn't flatter yourself by
thinkin' that at all, but we all feel about
the same as you do in the matter. Least
wise l do, and to show Bailey that | be-
lieve he's innocent, l hereby make him a
present of them three steers O. mine that's
in his bunch"
"Bully for you, old man! them's my SEN
timents! and I'll chip in the steers that
belong to me, tooW shouted Bill Smith.
"Same here !" yelled Ouch Frank, rub
bing two big tears off his cheeks with his
grimy fist.
Pm with you, boys!" shouted another.
"Me too !" said another, and minute
later every one of the 'strays" that had
caused all the trouble belonged as much
to Bailey as if the flank of each of them
bore his brand and no other.
The revulsion of feeling was simply tre-
mendous. The very men who ten min
utes before had been ruthlessly intent
upon hanging Bailey, now crowded around
him, begging forgiveness, and vieing with
one another as to which could do the most
for him.
Such of us that owned none of the
''strays" actually felt mean and jealous Of
those who did, until Tom Anderson sug-
gested a way in which we too, might
give vent to our generous impulses.
"Boys," said he, "theres none o. my
critters in Bailey's bunch, but next spring
Pm going to brand twenty calves for that
little girl in the pictur', and it's my inten-
ton to take care of them and their in
crease for her until she grows up"
"Now you're shoutin'', Tom; I'll DO the
same, chimed in another; and so each
man of us made liberal contribution.
Poor Bailey was entirely overcome, and
no wonder. TO escape hanging so narrow
ly, and five minutes later to have those
who had been bent upon executing him
eagerly competing with one another as to
which could show him the greatest kind
ness was enO1ph TO unset auy man.