The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1889-11-15
MY PARDNER, BILL.
The Story OF a Lonely Grave on
the Mountain-Side.


an hour later at Pueblo, stopped at a
way station long enough for solitary
passenger to get on ..
The person in question was a man
past middle age, of medium stature,
firmly and compactly built, who would
not have attracted a second look, how
ever. but for the fact that his face was
badly disfigured by curious scar on
his right cheek, in shape exactly re-
sembling q Greek cross.
The new conner found a seat beside
me. threw up the sash and became ab-
sorbed in the scenery along the road,
his interest increasing as the train
presently swept along pretty valley.
Suddenly he turned half way round.
touched my arm. and, pointing
through the open window. said. very
abruptly: Say. stranger, do you see
that pile o. rocks yonder on the slopeP
Well. that's Bills grave"
The mans action and speech startled
me trifle, but looked out and saw,
as he had said, pile of rocks on the
green slope of the hill
YES" continued the man, "that's
Bills grave Twenty-Five years ago
put them stuns thar myself Poor
Bill! pure gold cla'r through. an
reck'n / orter know, for l know'd Bill
from the ground up"
Having delivered this short speech
the man lapsed into silence. with
far-away, dreamy look. as il recalling
events long past. But his words had
aroused my curiosity, and at the risk
of interrupting the strangers reverie
L finally ventured to ask: WHO was
Bill, sir, whose grave is yonder?"
My companion gave a sudden start;
then, recovering himself he answered:
Didn't know Bill, chr OF course not.
seein' he was dead before ye was born
dead twenty-five years come June.
Bill was my pard, sir, Bill was. A man
to tie to every time Say. don't ye
think ye'd love q chap what 'ud be
willin' ter die for ye? Be willin', an
would, an did. too? / reck'n."
''Do you mean to say your chum
died for your" l asked, now thorough
ly interested, for there was tremen-
dous feeling and earnestness in the
strangers manner.
The man turned round, looked me
squarely in the face and in q solemn
voice said:
Stranger. he did"
Would you mind telling me some
thing about your friend?" l asked.
81 never git tired. sir, of talking
about Bill" was the prompt reply.
stopped hyar yesterday Jest to see
that grave. Put up one or two o. the
- ~
right now.
When fust met Bill he was guide
for chaps a'crossin' the plains, Santa
Fe way, for thar want no railroads
days A good guide N trusty.
Curious though bout some things.
He'd never use cuss words, nor drink,
but Lordi how he'd smoke. all day long
n half the night, too; good-natured,
but the solemnest chap ever struck.
Stranger, L never know'd Bill ter
laugh, never. not oncest Told me
his heart was broke. n he couldn't
laugh. What did he mean? Lor, man,
l dunno. for he never said much about
hisself. asked him his name N he
said it was Bill l ask'd him whar
he was from, n he said from No
whar.' spec thar was a woman in
the case-thar mostly is, / notice. But
Bill was built like clam n kept his
mouth shut.
wall, Bill an mo got ter be great
chums an l was mighty sorry when he
quit pilotin' trains, an jined some
hunters, an pulled out into the heart
o the lniun country
''Bimeby, a year later, havin' got
bit crazy on the subject O. silver min
ing, struck this same region we are
now passin' through, but we he'd no
luck at all in findin' silver. though I
felt l he'd struck it rich one hne day
when two hunters walked into our
camp, one of 'em being my old friend
Bill.
"Glad to see him, eh? Young man,
eff ye'd seen old Bill an me a huggin',
ye'd thought we was couple o bars
for sure
bill had been tharabouts for sew
eral months an said thar was no sill
yer signs about, an so our party
pulled up an went farther south. but
/ stayed with Bill an t'other chap to
take a hand at trappin' beaver. -
The old fellow had nice bit o. q
hut nigh a quiet valley, where thar
was heaps o. beaver, an as thar was
no redskins around we enjoyed our
selves immensely.
''But / didn't fancy Bills compan-
ion, an he didn't waste any love on
me either. Bill had picked him up
on the border jest fer company, an
took to him bit because he seemed a
nervy, brave fellow. He was a half
breed Mexican, named Yumez, a small,
wiry fellow, with sallow cheeks, coal
black eyes and a hatchet face, and
crafty ways like fox At first he
showed his dislike of me plain enough,
but by and by he became suddenly
very friendly. which made 1t much
pleasanter all round.
''One day L went up the creek to ex-
anime the traps, leaving Bill and Yu-
mez mending some of the old ones ut
home. Having been gone about an
hour was gittin' ready TO return,
when heard the crack o rife an
bullet grazed the tip o. my ear drawin'
a drop o. blood
Il reck'n iump'd nigh a rod high,
for it was a pooty clost call to climb
the stairs. an then looked to see
whar the Internal thing come from.
seed wisp O. smoke hangin' over a
clump o bushes nigh the hill top that
told me all cared to know, an grab
bin up my gun made for home, un-
der the shelter of the creek bank, at
2:40 gait fearin' a second shot from
the Injuns-
Nigh our hut met Yumez, gun IN
hand, who said he had heard the shot
an started out to help me if needed.
1t struck me as bein' cur Gus he could