The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-09-25

ing to see the dead body Of Banjo's Bob
swinging from a rafter. But he was made
of different stuff. He had used the boards
Of his bunk for the headstone of Banio's
grave, and burned his supply of fuel in
thawing the clods which he had blasted out
with dynamite 10 make grave for his
namesake.
"Howdy, bossi Pm goin' to quit yuh. /
like yuh all right, but hain't got nothin'
tub live fer now but tub make medicine
weth Grievance Bill. II yuhll Jest give me
my time Pll 60 up TO Medory an git my
stun an start after him. Monday night
week the swing team come in lame, an
had 70 send out four team with Cheyanne
Bill. / knowed he was too free weth the
SILK, an tole him not TO throw il inter Ole
Banjo, not on no account whatever. Well,
sir, be drove inter Middle Grand weth
spike team. Ny pore Ole Banjo was a-lyin'
dead three miles back. They was a RATHER
in the road tibet Ole Banjo must "a saw. an
he crowded over to the off side. Cheyanne
Bill didn't take no notice 'ceptin' tibet Benjo
was out o. line, an he raised his whip an
throwed the silk inter him. 1t amt much
to most bosses, an it aiH't nothin' to some,
but it was murder to my ole boss. He
hadn't never felt the ing o. the silk an he
knOwed as well as a human tibet he didn't
ought TO feel it. 1t broke bis heart right
thur. He jest give a spring in the air
an come down in a heap. He didn't
suffer none 'oeptin' fer the one lick
thet murdered him. Russ Wilson, foreman
OF the E6 outfit, come along next mornin',
an hired a mule team Of lin fer IS day
to haul my ole boss back TO the station.
Russ V as mighty uppity about letttin' me
hev the team any price. But when tole
him it was to bury Ole Banjo, he Jest let
me hev two teams for nothin' an sent one
of his COW puuchers to Deadwood to buy
4 fFa far fn1
MOre'n tibet, he come all the way over from
the E6, an brought every one of his boys,
to give a military funeral TO nv ole boss.
The Obs'quies was Rccordin' to Hoyls, YOU
bet, an the boys all fired a salute over the
grave weth all tho cartridges In
their six-shooters. But I can't STAY no
longer in sight of his grave weth Chey-
anne Bill on top OF ground. 1t nd drive me
locood in a week. I've got enough stuff
comm to strike Bills trail. an III never
leave it tell I've made medicine weth MIN.
hear he didn't dast stop at the end Of his
run, but KEEP a-goin', and left the coach In
the Bad Lands, an struck across country
fer Mingusville. He'll sure make his first
stop in Hele-naw. an NAV ketch no with
him thar. Anyways, I'll foller him tell l
ind MIN. Et don't find him in this world
pll 60 to hell to find him in the next. an I'll
squirt coal oil on him, an watch him squirm
while IT'S burnin'. l haIn't got nothin' to
live FIR 'ceptin' on'y jest that"
Yesterday, more tnan seven years after
Old Banjos death, opened a paper sent me
from Las Vegas, New Mexico. Huge black
lines smelling Of harness dressing were
drawn about the following article:
Cheyenne Bill was shot and instantly
killed in the MevericE saloon yesterday by
man calling himself Banjo's Bob. The cor
cner's jury acquitted the prisoner, as it was
shown that Cheyenne Bill had pHlled his
gun, and turned loose at him as soon as he
entered he door"
In dsi nee of Uncle SANS postel laws
there W rs scrowled Immediately under the
black lines
ii sed wuId make Madecin weth Chey-
ann an done 1t. BANJo's BOB.h