Evening star., 1894-12-15
A NEW MEXICO BAD MAN.
Traits OF the Real Article and Those
Of the Man Who Tries to De Bad.

Traits OF the Real Article and Those
of the Man Who Tries to De Bad.
From the New York Sum-
Sitting in Bob Young's saloon at Pueblo
with that gigantic 'old-timer.' Davenport.
once OF Cimarron." said the western sur
veyor. "hs entertained me with some
quaint and tragic episodes Of New Mexico
life and death in the 70s. One was about
Thanksgiving day. In the afternoon the
cowboy contingent came in to town to cell
ebrate the day. They were showing the
effects Of the loads they had made it their
first business to accumulate. One fool
ishly drunken fellow from the range. who
had got separated from his gang. had
strayed into this saloon and was bracing
himself upright with his elbows upon the
counter. None Of the men playing cards
or drinking quietly at the tables paid any
attention to his vaporings. From time to
time he jumped up and kicked his heels to-
gether to make his spurs rattle, and an
nounced in defiant tones that he was only
a cowboy, but he was as good as any man
living, and If any man didn't like his talk
he might go to hades.'
That fellow isn't bit bad. though he
tries to be- remarked Davenport, con-
temptuously. The real desperado doesn't
behave in that sort of way. If you want
to know how a genuine shooting man acts
take Clay Allison Of New Mexico. Wed be
standing. for instance in Lamberts bar
room at Cimarron drinking. There were
plenty Of men N those days who would be
too glad to take Allsons life If they could
only get sure drop on him, and he knew
1t; but he would stand there quietly talk
Ing with me. to all appearances as uncon-
cerned as to danger as we are now. Only
as he drank and talked you could see that,
without turning his head, his eye-he had
an eye like cold. chilled steel-was taking
n ~ nod N uyan
and came in the bar room. He had an old
grudge against Reinhart, the sheriff, and
1t was commonly supposed that this feel
Ing would lead to the death of one of them.
At sight Of Reinhart Allisons bad blood
would get to working, and he would say to
me In an undertone, so full of intense
hatred and purpose that 1t was appalling:
DO you see that man? I'm going to
Kill him today
"'Well. a man In my place needed only to
say the wrong word to bring an en-
counter then and there by which Reinhart
would lose his life, for he was no match
with Allison in a man to man pistol scrap.
His only chance lay in his having his sher-
ifs posse about him. Allison liked me.
and knew that the only way to turn him
from his purpose was to appeal to his better
nature. So l would say to him:
That's all right, Clay, SO far you
and Reinhart are concerned, but there's
another thing to be thought of. Just look
at those who are dependent on him. He's
got a daughter thirteen years old and two
little children, boy of five and a girl of
seven. to whom she has to act a mother.
Think what will become of them II you
kill their father
"'Well, that view of the case would take
the Idea of killing Reinhart from Allison's
mind for that time, and the day would go
by without any trouble.
Speaking of Clay Allison reminds me
OF how he called me to q standstill mighty
sudden one night at Cimarron. He had
come into town after dark. and put up at
Lambert's and had gone to bed early. No
body locked their doors at night in New
Mexico In those days, but depended for
safety on their firearms. Some Of us boys
were drinking and skylarking late that
night in the bar room, and in lodging
away from my comrades after a scuffle i
ran into the hallway. upstairs, and bolted
into the first room came to. supposing 1t
threshold l halted at the command of a
stern voice that came from the bed in the
corner of the room.
Stop! Stop right therev
recognized the voice as Clay Alli-
sons. For Gods sake, don't shoot"
managed to gasp out. IT'S Davenport"
Strike light and show yourself. but
don't you move from your tracks, he said
in a voice little less savage
Il struck a match, and Its light showed
me Allison half sitting up in bed, Just as
he started up at the sound of my bursting
into the room, both his hands grasping the
butt of a cooked revolver that pointed
straight at my head. OF course he low
cred 1t then, and we settled the matter of
my waking him with a couple Of drinks.
But II was well l hadn't taken a second
step into the room before he knew who /
was, for l should have caught bullet
a n G IN y,,lS