The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1892-04-19

was only WalGlnS I'd ask the privilege.
I'll make the next trip to town alone
and if l meet the scoundrels and they
don't get the pull on me I'll guarantee
to wipe them out; so please make a
motion that I'm togo
Somebody, who didn't want to see
the young feller's feelings hurt by
leaving him out of the talk, made the
motion. I at once seconded il and
urged that the boy be allowed to try
himself as a scout. I'll tell you as l
told them, l don't believe in spirit
manifestati )ns and inspirations and
stuff Of that sort, but I've great faith
practical things that I've had to
earn by hard knocks. [ had seen
plenty of tough Indian fighting and
border war before became a ranchero
and | knew how to size up a good scout
or safe officer. While the youngster
was making his offer it was plain to
me that he had hit upon some ingenious
scheme that only needed good luck and
courage for a trial. My war record,
such as it was, gave me a good deal of
influence with the boys, and as l seemed
satisfied to risk my chum, it was finally
agreed that Plug Hat should go. When
the meeting broke up l asked him
what his plan was, but he only
laughed and said: If I come back
you'll find out
The second morning afterwards he
started. Hepicked outa good horse, put
on his Sunday clothes, silk hat in
cluded, filed his belt with revolvers,
fastened his saddle pouch and babe US
good by, making most of us feel pretty
glum. Well, to shorten the story, that
night while we were at supper, into
camp rode Plug Hat. He dismounted
cody, sat down among us and began
to eat. He couldn't answer the thick
vOlley of questions given him, but
after supper, in a quiet, commonplace
way, he told us about his adventure.
He had ridden about twenty miles
from camp and had turned out of Red
Stone pass to cross aquarter-mil lonely
spot that led to an easy riding road.
He vas halt way across when from be-
hind the rocks or foot hills out sprang
Black Mex from one side and Big
Cactus from the other. Of course
they held him up, as it's now termed.
Cactus seized his bride and coverd
him with a revolver. Mex held another
at his ear and made him diSmount, He
then took all of the revolvers from his
prisoners belt and sounded his bosom
AMI pockets for any that might be
hidden. Then he made him sit down
a few feet away and proceeded to ride
the pouch. Cactus kept the boy
covered, but as the latter was de-
prived of his belt weapons and would
not be likely to attempt a knife upon
his brawny captOrs, eve if he had a
bowie, vigilance relaxed. In one of
these unguarded seconds off came the
plug hat, out of it flashed the famous
short barrel and two Of the worst
fiends that ever pestered the South
west were out of existence.
"Well, we and the boys, far and
near, were mighty proud of Plug Hat,
and some of the ranch owners offered
to stake him high or take him in pards.
He wouldn't stay, and he soon started
North to preach.
Did I ever see him again? What
was his real name? Yes, I've seen him
nearly every New Years since I've
settled North; as for his name, if he'll
quit scowling like a hungry Comanche
and stop shaking his head like a bulky
mustang, I'll introduce you to him
right now