Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-07-21
BAD MEN OUT OF DATE.
They Survive Chiefly I'm Arizona, but
Are Very Much Toned Down.

-Arc very Much Down.
From the San Francisco Examiner
Prescott is now the one place in Arizona
where the cowboy, the whilom "rustler"
and stage robber, the queer lady and
other bad folks most do oongregate IT'S
true they are considerably toned down
since the palmy days Of Tombstone. Their
organization is not SO perfect as of yore
Scme members have been suspended for
Eon-payment Of dues. others from telegraph
poles; some repose beneath the prickly
pear; others lead sedentary life on the
classic banks of the Colorado in the ter
rtorial penitentiary. while a few have ex-
perienced change of heart and gone back
to the states to lead pure life and invest
their savings with the sugar trust to buy
Up struggling Senators.
Prescott is the center of a gold mining
section which is attracting crowds of all
classes and conditions. Hotels and lodging
houses are overcrowded. Saloons and gam
bling houses are doing q rushing business,
ana the bad man occasionally turns him
self loose when filled up to the neck with
tarantula juice. met such a one yesterday
on MonteZuma street, writes an Examiner
correspondent. Coyote Cal is his nom de
plume. and the only name / have ever
heard him to acknowledge. Ten years ago
he was one Of the most promising stage
robbers in the southern part of the terri
and respected by every man who followed
his calling. In those days he could drink
or leave IT alone, but candor compels me
to admit that he preferred not to leave 1t
alone when he could get II. But then, he
didn't neglect his business; that much
could be said in his favor AS i picture
him in my mind, he was tall, slight, with
long faxen hair and laughing blue eyes.
He rode the best horse he could steal, and
his arms and accouterments were bespan-
gled with silver.
No Longer a Terror.
Now alas! he is a common drunkard. He
struck me for four bits ito eat on and
made bee line for the Cowboys Rest
where 1 afterward learned no food was
sold. He is a blear-eyed, rum-soaked
wretch. / can say this with impunity, for
there is no fight in him and / will tell you
why later on. hate to say harsh things
that are calculated to hurt his feelings
the newspapers. 1t is much better to go
quietly behind his back and talk. or say
what you have to say to yourself. In this
case II is different, where there is no dan
ger attached. 1 repeat it. then. Coyote Cal
is drunk and a bum, with all that the
terms imply. l might not have said so
years ago, when Cal ard his copartners
stood up the Tombstone stage and took
Hume's white-handled siX-shooters and
made Clum take to the brush.
But that's neither here nor there. Last
IlSnt coyote tdl W$S loaded. ana as he
stood in front of Obejoyful Saloon he was
making talk. His voice IS all right-that
necessary requisite of fighter is still left
him. The officers had ell gone TO a meet
ing of the Third Ward Republican Club,
and Cal and his listeners had the sidewalk
to themselves. To take his own word for
it. a certain amount of his composition was
horse and a portion alligator. He came
from Bitter Creek he stated, where the
bad men all come from, and he also made
the singular remark that the further up
the creek you go the worse they get. He
himself, he said, came from the fountain
source. l don't pretend to quote his exact
language. 1t was quite profane at times
and shocked me greatly. He did say how
ever. that he could whip his weight in wild
cats and fight circular saws and ali that
sort Of thing, but i was not paying much
attention TO him until a little dry goods
clerk came up and caught him by the col
lar and seat of his breeches and threw him
into the street.
Picking himself UP, he rushed into the
saloon and asked the barkeeper for gun.
Barkeepers, as a class. are accommodating
fellows, and this one Of the Obejoyful prov
ed no exception. Showing the siX-ShOoter
into his wastband. Coyote Cal slowly
sauntered up the street to the Cowboys
Rest, where he pawned it for whisky.