Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1894-01-05
IN SAINTS TORTURE.

pulnttu. lnt maze lnhl niuk over tue Nhi-
Icy marked them with only slightly deep
ened tint; little more haze and they are
gone, melting from view before you hke
mirage ON the desert. Northward, the Gu
rharas meadows rolled with ripples Of YER
dure to meet the stream. Between the
mountains and the lowlands the mesa
stretched level plain.
The soft haze Of evening was thickened
by the darkening twilight. The plains
seemed vaster with each deepening shadow;
the grim, gaunt cactus stalks looked more
and more fierce and unfriendly; of q deep
purple, almost black, in the south rose
Wahatoya, no longer soft of tint and lur@
Ing, but a dark and frowning barrier.
Through the twilight a delicate figure
moved. Down the road from the noun
tain he came, and pick on his shoulder
Indicated him from the mines. He entered
the settlement and, seldom spoken to or
speaking, he traversed the length OF the
street and entered a cabin somewhat mean
Or than the rest as regards architectural
beauty, but neat and clean withal.
The boys gen oral appearance was Of one
rad, yet desiriug to be sociabls-perhaps
even heartbroken, yet iacing the stern re-
hlities of life with an effort at cheerfulness.
Since no one took the trouble to ask, his
pame was not known, but some genius
dubbed him Miss Bill, and that strange
Ippellation clung to him ever.
He had first appeared at Saints Torture
pme II months before, and seemed then to
10 three and twenty years OF age.
A claim was soon located, cabin built
and work commenced. The boy was fairly
successful but that was hardly avoidable,
for gold was not scarce on the peaks In
those days.
Miss Bills retiring nature and steady
going habits were enough to place him be-
yond the pale of our social coterie, but my
Innate principles Of western hospitality
compelled me To call on him.
/ watched him pass the saloon as he re-
turned from the mine, and following him
shortly after l knocked at the door Of his
cabin.
My reception was most cordial, but re-
served. The cabin was rudely furnished.
but had an air Of neatness about It never
before seen In Torture. At my mention Of
this fact he blushed; yes, actually blushed,
and his large, melting gray eyes gave me
quick, half startled look.
talked on every subject permitted west
Of the range, but Bill was not much inter
ested. No, he didn't care for company. He
didn't drink. He played cards-a little.
That was all.
AS soon as had safely slowed away these
valuable bits Of information, l hastened
10 Dutch Pete's saloon for the purpose Of
communicating them to the choice band Of
spirits who nightly congreRated there to
bold communion with other (and far strong
er spirits) and to enjoy felicitous game Of
draw poker.
About two months after the period Of my
a.
stranger came to Saints Torture.
He was tall, handsome man, with keen,
villainous eyes, a regular practitioner at
the bar Dutch Pste's), and a remarkably
lucky gambler, as number Of US discov-
cred to our sorrow. He had an offhand
way Of betting his ounces that was decid-
edly refreshing, and he soon earned an en-
viable reputation as a sporting man.
One night entered the Bucket of Blood,
our leading gambling hall, when, much to
my surprise, saw Miss Bill and the stran-
ger seated at a table together playing poker.
| was tempted to demonstrate with the lat
ter, for 1t seemed sheer robbery for him to
win the hard earnings of the gentle Miss
Bill. / remarked something to that effect
10 friend, but he surprised me with the
rejoinder:
mo use to interfere. pard. for the meek
little cuss is skinning the black eyed stran-
ger outrageous"
What, Miss Bill beating himi"
"You can chance your ducats on that.
pard. Just look at him."
did look, aud never In all my experience
had l seen so skillful poker player as that
boy. He bet recklsssly, and almost inva-
tiably won, much to the surprise Of every
one and to the strangers disgust.
The scene attracted quite a crowd, and
as our meek eyed friend drew ounce after
punce Of the yellow gold toward him low
nurmurs Of applause ran over the room.
The cards were again shutfied, dealt and
the betting began.
II see your 10 ounces and raise you 90"
said Miss Bill.
"I'll have to call you, pard, and II you
bold over me I'm gone, for I'm down to the
nard pan. sure"
"very we'll What have you" asked the
mooth faced miner.
"Four kings"
"Fair, but not good enough"
What, can you beat itp and for once the
stranger lost control of himself
-Four aces and-a queen" said the win
ner as he spread on the table four aces and
ln-old photograph. As the gamblers eyes
rested upon 1t his face became distorted,
and great beads Of perspiration started on
bis brow.
"Do you know her" hissed Miss Bill
ayes, but who are youf'
"Her sisteri''
The hall was silent as the grave, but In
moment the oppressive silence was broken
by the voice of Miss Bill
Jack CASTOR, when you ruined my sis
ter, you thought her death would save you.
But / swore to avenge my sisters wrongs
and I'll keep my oath. Now, both our piles
are on the board and the best hand winsp'
The stranger sat In q dazed way through
It all.
Miss Bill looked like devil to me now.
Gone was the old sad smile and frightened
look In the eyes. The one was cunning
and cruel; the other stsely and hard.
Have you anything to say for yourself"
pueried the girl
The stranger made no audible reply, but
shook his head and rubbed his hand across
bis forehead az IL to collect his scattered
thoughts
In an instant the girl leveled pistol at
bis breast and fred. Without an outcry
De fell heavily to the floor. In the tumult
Lhat ensued Miss Bill disappeared from the
ball
To this day her whereabouts Is not
Known, but her story Ii frequently told,
With all sorts of variations, in Saints Tor
ure.-Preston Kendall In New York Clip
Heroic Treatment