The Dalles daily chronicle. [volume] (The Dalles, Or.) 1890-1948, 1891-02-02


the pretty girl either. They might have
become so, all or any of them.
The singing went on in cooling, soft
way that did not bring you the words
only the music.
"What says about my saddle while
back. Imeans," said Moore, finally, turn
ing dark looks on Watkins.
''See yere," said Watkins, in an exas-
perated tone-he was as vicious as Moore
-''if you're pintin' out for a war jig
with me, don't fool round none for
reasons, but Jest let 'er roll. Come
a-runnin', an don't bother none with
ceremony"
"a man don't need to have no reasons
for crawlin' you none," said Moore.
you're fair game, you are. Anyone's
licensed to chase you round jest for fun
an exercise"
''You can gamble said Watkins con-
hdently, ''any man as chases me round
much will regard it as thrillin' pastime.
He won't get fat at it-none whatever"
'tAs you all seem to feel that away"
said Moore, "T1l step out and shoot with
you right now"
"Well. I'll shore go you" said Wat
kins-
They arose and stepped out at the door.
1t was gathering dark, but it was light
enough to shoot by.
The other cowboys followed in silence.
Not one said word in comment or in
reference. They were grave and seri-
GUS, but passive. 1t Is not good form to
interfere with other peoples duels in the
southwest The pretty girl was still
singing, and the strains fell softly on the
ears of the cowboys. Every one, whether
onlooker or principal, felt inspired with
lurking, pleased anticipation of the
blood to be soon set flowing. Nothing
was said Of distance. They separated to
about forty PAGES and turned to face
each other. Each wore bis ''Colt's 49,
the loosely buckled belt letting it rest
low down on the right hip. Each threw
down his big hat and stood at apparent
ease, with his thumbs caught in the pis-
tol belt
Shall you give the word, or meP' said
Moore
"You give it" said Watkins. It'll be
funny passage in American history if
you get your artillery to the front any
sooner than do. them
''Be you readyT asked Jack.
.Shore."
"Then-gol''
"Bang! Bangl Bangl Bangr' went
both pistols together, and with rapid
ity not to be counted. Moore got
crease in his left shoulder-a mere
wound to the hesh-and Watkins fell
with bullet in his side. Rawlins, the
range boss, came running out He un-
derstood all at look. Hastily examin-
ing Moore he discovered that his hurt
was nothing senous. The others carried
Watkins into the house.
''Take my pony, saddled at the fence,
jack" said Rawlins, ''and pull your
freight. This yere mans goin' to die"
(Which shorely hopes he does" said
Jack, bitterly. "In go, though; I amt
got no use for none of these yere he
shorthorns around the HIT"
So he took Rawlins' pony, and when
he stopped riding in the morning it was
no marvel that the poor pony hung his
head dejectedly, while his fanks steamed
and quivered. He was almost 100 miles
from his last corn, and cooled his nerv-
GUS muzzle as he took his morning drink
in the Rio Pecos, q stream far to the
west of the HI.
"Some shooting scrape about their |
saddles, miss; that's ALL" So reported |
Rawlins to the pretty girl
"Isn't it horriblep shuddered the |
pretty girl, in reply.
The next morning the pretty girl and |
her gnarled and twisted aunt paid the in
jured Watkins visit. This sight so af-
fected the other three cowboys that they
at once saddled and rode away to the |
northwest to work some cattle on the |
Ocate Mesa. They intended to be gone
three months. They looked black and |
as they galloped away.
"It's pity Jack Moore amt no better |
pistol shot" said one, as the picture of
the pretty girl visiting the wounded Wat
Ens arose in his mind.
''That's whatever" assented the others.
The pretty girl was full of sympathy |
for the stricken Watkins. 1t occurred
to her, too, that his profile was clear and
handsome. He was certainly very pale,
and this stirred the depths of her femi-
nine nature. She and her aunt came to
see the invalid every day. Once the
pretty girl said she would bring him a
book to read and while away the hours
which seemed shod with lead.
81 can't read" said Watkins, in a tone
of deepest shame. 81 never learned. l |
should like to read, too, but there's no
one to teach me- So that settles that"
and the rascal expressed deep sigh.
Watkins lied. 1t was he who was the
Princeton man. He said afterward that
this lie was the only real good work he
ever did in his life.
So the pretty girl came every day and
gave Watkins reading lesson, while
the gnarled aunt read book and watch
ed them through the open door.
"By the way" said Watkins one day,
where's MooreT'
"WhyT" asked the range boss, to whom