The Press., 1892-11-10

: .sIt's Armstrong from Oregon, from the Umpqua, ain't it? You don't look as if you were after cattle this time. Where's your brother?'
 2 Murdered"
 "I allowed something had happened, because he warn't long. never seed two men stick so close as you and he did. They didn't kill him without get tin lick at you, see. Who was it3 IndiansY'
 "Worse."
 s.I reckon I know why you're after us then"
 ssI can't waste time, Chamberlain" said Armstrong, in a hurried whisper. srI tell you in two words what's hap pened to me, and p'r'aps you can help me to find the men mean to find"
 ..Pn help you, if 1 know how, Arm strong. I hain't seen no two in my life, old country or new country, saints or gentiles, as I'd do more for n you and your brother. I've olluz said, of the world was chock full of Armstrongs, Paradise wouldn't pay, and Abraham, Isaac and Jacob mout just as we'll blow out their candle and go under bushel basket, unless half bushel would kiver 'em."
 The stranger seemed insensible to this compliment He went on in the same whisper. full of agony, pain and weari- ness. While he talked his panting horse drew up his lip and whinnled, showing his long, yellow teeth. The spirit of his rider had entered him. He was impa- tient of this dalliance.
 "We were coming down from the Umpqua, my brother and l." said Arm strong, ssgoan across to the states to drive out cattle next summer. We was little late one morning, along of our horses havin strayed off from camp, and that was how we met them men. Two on 'em ther' was-a tall, most ungodly Pike and little, fat, mean lookin runt. We lighted on 'e1n just to the crossin of Bear river. They was comin from Sac ramenter, they said. kinder allowed they was horse thieves and wanted to shy off. But Bill-that was my brother"-
 Here the poor fellow choked a little.
 s'Bill, he never could think wrong of nobody. Bill, he said: No. Looks was nothin.' he said, 'and we'd jine the fel. lers.' So we did, and rode together all day, and camped together on branch we cum to. 1 reckon we talked toe much about the cattle we was goan to buy, and suppose ther' ain't many on the Pacific side that ain't heard of the Armstrongs. They allowed we had money, them murderers did. We'll, we camped all right, and went to sleep, and I never knowed nothin, eff it warn't 8 dream that grizzly had wiped me over the head, till woke up the next day with the sun brilin down on my head and my head all raw and bloody. as ei I'd been scalped. And there was Bill my brother Bill-lyin dead in his blankets" A shudder passed through our group These were the men we had tolerated sat with at the camp fire, to whose rough stories and foul jokes we had listened Brent's instinct was true.
 Armstrong was evidently an honest simple, kindly fellow. His eyes were pure, gentle blue. They filled witf tears as he spoke. But the stern look re uAtAluc0, LuO IsududIuduLutu0 WulSpGl only grew thicker with vengeance.
 "Bill was dead" he continued. "Tht hatchet slipped when they come to hi me, and they was too skeared, sup pose, to go on chopin me as they hai him. P'r'aps his ghost cum round ant | told 'em t warn't the fair thing they'i l ben at, and t warn't. But they got oul l horses, Bills big sorrel and my Flatheal l horse, what's made hundred and twen ty-three miles betwixt sunrise and sun set of September day. goan for tht doctor, when Ma Armstrong was tux tt die. They got the horses and our money belts. So when found Bill was dead
 I knowed what my life was left me for I tied up my head, and somehow crel | and walked and run and got to Box Fl der. don't know how long it took nol
 who showed me the way, but go | there."
 Box Elder is the northernmost Nor ] mon settlement, or was, in those days.
 .Tn never say another word agin tho Mormon religion, Jake," Armstrong
 went on. ''They treated me like !,
 brother to Box Elder. They outfttet me with pistol, and this ere horse They said he'd come in from trail what the Indians had cut off, and was
 terrible one to go. He is, and believ' he knows what he's goan for. I've be1
 night and day ridin on them murderers
 trail. Now, men, give me time to think
 Bills murderers ain't at Bridger. The,
 was there last midnight. They must bt somewheres within fifty miles, and Fl find lem, so help me Godv'
 His hoarse whisper was still. No on' spoke. .a Another rush of hoofs down the slop' behind!