The Republican., 1893-11-16
HAzlNe A RIBBON DRUMMER.
How Valentine. Neb., Treated the Firsl
Commercial Traveller Seen There.

Commercial Traveller Seen There.
''It was while l was stationed at Fort
Niobrara," said Col. George Barry,
that the first drummer made his APP
pearance in Valentine. He was a slim
little fellow, and he seemed 20 have
given a good deal of care to his per-
sonal adornment. He dropped into VAL
entine on one of the first trains that
got through over the new road. He
had a couple of fancy yellow grips that
must have looked very pretty to him,
for he lugged them with him when he
went into Dutch Georges saloon and
called for Manhattan cocktail. Yes,
sir, he wanted Manhattan cocktail
You ought to have seen Dutch George
look at him. Then he winked couple
of times at the row of cowboys sitting
along the side of the room and turned
round and began to mix a lot of things
together for dear life. The little drum
mer leaned one arm on the bar and
looked round at the row of cowboys
without seeming to see the chap that
had edged up behind him. just as
Dutch George finished mixing whatever
it was he had fixed up for the drummer
there was a pistol shot, and one of the
boys sitting at the side of the room
gave a yell and fell out of his chair in
a heap on the floor. A big six-shooter
fell to the floor beside the little drum
mer and little cloud of smoke rose
between the drummer and the bar. l
am telling you that there was row.
Those cowboys yelled like the devil
and swore that the drummer had shot
the fellow who had fallen out of the
chair Three or four of them pulled
their guns and were for shooting the
drummer right there, but one fellow
proposed to lynch him, and that propo-
sition went through with whoop.
$50 they started to take the little
chap out to hang him. just as they
got to the door of the saloon there was
shout that the sheriff was coming,
and before anyone could say jack rab-
bit the sheriff and another man were
there with their six-shooters in their
hands, demanding the prisoner in the
name of the law. The little drummer
was so relieved that he could have
hugged the sheriff, and he began to
try to talk again. The sheriff told him
to shut up if he wanted to get out
alive, and started with him for the
door. But just as soon as his back
was turned, one of the cowboys
shouted:
"'Shoot him! Shoot him! Don't let
him get away like that"
"The sheriff and his man swung
round and whipped out their six-shoot-
ers again. Keep back he shouted.
ri shoot the first galoot that touches
this man so full of holes he won't need
a grave
"The cowboys took the challenge
and in less than a quarter of second
more than forty pistol shots were fired.
1t sounded like an engagement of in
fantry. The room was full of smoke.
Two or three of the cowboys fell to the
floor, and the man who was with the
sheriff went down with groan, crying
that he was done for Somehow or
other the sheriff got off all right and
dragged his man out into the street.
The little drummer was near having a
fit from fright, and the sheriff had lost
his hat. So he took the drummer to
the corner of the saloon and said:
"'Now, I'm going back there for my
hat. Don't you wiggle out of this spot
till l come back. If you do you're
mighty liable to lose your life mighty
sudden and unpleasant
"With that the sheriff left the drum
mer standing there at the corner and
went back to the saloon. He hadn't
any more than opened the door before
the shooting began again, and what
had been done before wasn't a marker
to what it was that time. The little
drummer listened to it for minute
and then he was off up the road like a
quarter-horse, with never a thought of
his two fancy yellow grips. He'd got
about one hundred and fifty yards
away when the door of the saloon
opened and Dutch George and the
sheriff and half a dozen cowboys
jumped out into the street with their
guns in action. Well, the way the bull
lets dropped around that drummer's
feet would beat Kansas hailstorm.
And the more they dropped the faster
he ran. When it was all over, and the
bullets wouldn. t carry to the drummer
any longer, the sheriff and the cow
boys, including all the dead and in
jured, danced a jig in front of the sa-
loon and then went in to drink the
place dry, and guess they pretty near
did it. And what dye suppose that
- fool was trying to sell? Ribbons,
by CAD; yes, sir, ribbons. Trying to
sell ribbons in Valentine. Was it a put
up JOB? Yes, sir, it was, and well put
up, too, for they haven't seen him
since IN Y. Sun.
The Portland Bar.
An illiterate man from the west,
with money. had gone to a Maine
town-Portland We'll say-to attend
to some lawsuits there in which he