The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1890-06-05
THE CLAIM-JUMPER.
Why the RICH. full Owners Failed
to Plug Him Full of Lead.

"Fellers, reckon we've struck it at
last"
Reckon we hev, Dock, an purity dog
goned rich, too"
Bet yer right, Jim. That thar claim
is jest lousy with gold, an ever blamed
one of us ill git rich often it. Tell yer
whut, l mover see as fine layout in. my
life"
wal, fer my part" Jerry Dunkin re-
marked, in his drawing tone. 1--WE can't
git rich none too soon. I'm dog-goned
tired O. diggin' fer nothin'."
Reckon Jerry'd think it wuz monty
hard work if he jest had to pick the
gold up" said old Dock Perkins. II
low never seed his equal fer gittir'
tired. Pears like he gifts tired of ever
thing but eatin'."
Bet he never gifts tired O eatin',"
Jim Buster cried, at which there was a
general laugh at Jcrry's expense.
You fellers kin laugh if you want
to-" Jerry replied. in an injured tone;
but when Teller amt feelin' we'll
reckon he don't materially feel much like
workin'.'
NO; ner he orient to feel much like
eatin'. nuther. But l reckon our noun
tain days air about over, boys, an in a
month or two Jerry an all the rest of us
III be gittin' fer the East. l tigger that
we'll git at least five thousand dollars
apiece out O Their new mine, an yer bet
if we do, I'm goin' back to see the wild
der an the young 'uns."
Here, too, Dock. Blamed if l amt
hankerin' to see the ole oman an the
children wuss than l ever have in the
seven year I've been away from 'em.
Pears like the hope O SEEM 'em sorter
makes Teller wanter see 'em."
Jerry an me amt got nobody to go
back to-" said Dave Rice; "leastwise no
wives an children, but guess We'll go
long O the rest"
'Reckon mebby- yer won't be banker
in, Dave, to see that thar gal what
you're allus writin' to. I low not"
Just at that moment Jake Lane, who
had been out to picket the donkeys,
returned, and approaching the group
Eaid:
oval, fellers, there's a job fer u.s."
What sorter job?" Dock asked.
"Job O. hangin' or shootin, guess"
"Whut in the dickens do yer mean?
Who air we goin' to hang or shoot?"
Il reckon we'll hev to do one or the
tother to the Teller that's jumped our
claim"
"Which-the new CLAMP"
"Edzackly. A Teller has squatted
onto it an pears to be maxim hisself at
home"
That shorely can't be, jake" Jim
Buster protested.
wal, it pears like it kin be-" Jake
replied.
why, blame it all, Jake, yer shorely
mistaken" said Dock. Thar can't be
anybody up thar"
Gosh ding it, Dock, low l know a
thing when see it, an asides, the fell
Ter is thar to show fer hisself."
For moment the men smoked in 81
lence, looking at each other in the
meantime with an inquiring glance. At
last old Dock broke the silence by say
ing;
'Fellers, you hear what Jake says.
What yer low to do?'
"Guess thar amt but one thing to do,
Dock" Bill Nelson said, IAN l reckon
we all know what that isl
Guess we do. Thar only question is,
shall we shoot or hang?"
Reckon it don't make no special diff
ference. Shootin's leetle the handiest,
though"
wal, we'll shoot. then. Air you
ready to act now?'
''S'pose now's as good as any time.
The quicker we git i'm often the claim
the better, an, asides, we won't have
no time to fool with i'm to-morry.
Guess we'd as we'll 60 right up an fix
Jim and have it over with"
The miners armed themselves and
started off up the gulch for the purpose
of removing the claim-jumper.
The claim in question had been
worked very little, but it had the ap
pearance of having been abandoned
some months. A little log cabin had
been erected by the former claimant
conner.
That's the dog-gondest checklist
piece err impudence 1 ever heerd tell
Of" old Dock remarked, as they clam
bered up the rocky gulch. Think of a
Teller comm an squattin' down on a
claim right under our noses. Blamed
fool might "a knowed what 'u'd happen
to i'm
oval, I sorter figger that he won't
jump no more claims. Reckon this'll
about let i'm out on that racket"
A dim light was burning in the cabin
and as the miners approached they
could see through the open window the
figure of man sitting at rough table
with his head buried in his bands. Or
the ia BILE before him lay an open letter
''Humph," cd Dock muttered; won
der what he's a-doin?"
"Figgerin' up the profits he caker
lates TO make out'en the mine, jedge.
Jim Buster replied. "Mouty dog -goned
nice show to drop i'm from yere.''
''Bet it is, said Jake, San low wee
as we'll plug inn 49,. $50.