The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1895-08-23
PICKLES UNCLE.

chair and poised between scornful fingers
tho last chapters of cigar.
"No, son; / nevor did no KILN mysclf.
but Two stood round an seed folks yet
checked clear through, which is moro
profitable. 1 calls to mind KILN down
to old Ike Stockton's There was u big
crowd at Stockton's that Juno day. The
corrals was full of pack mules, an bull
teams, an wagon trains from the east, an
white men, Mexicans, half breeds, an In
juns was a-miXin an mcandcrin round,
a-lyin an a-laughin an a-drinkin old Ikc's
whisky mighty profusc. Four or five mulo
siinners had their long, Timber 16 foot
whips, which aro loaded with dust shot
from butt to tip an was crackin OF 'cm at
mark. Two seen ono of 'em with tho
most easy, delicate, deliberate twist Of the
wrist mako his whip squirm in tho Dir like
hurt snake, an oil ut wonst straightcn 1t
out with tho crack of 90 rifles, an tho
buckskin pepper would cut hole in q
loose buffalo robe he'd hung up, an all
without invcstin two ounces of actooal
strength. Several of us was a-lookin on
from the hotel porch applautiin of the good
shots, when Short Creek Dave speaks up
to jack Moore next to mo an says:
Jack, you mind that old Navajo you
downcd over on tho San Simon last falls?
L minds it mighty clear says Jack
He was a-stealin my boss at tho time, an
kin prove it by his skclp on my bride
right now.
" Well, says Short Creek Dave, point
in to dirty saddle colored half breed who
was maxim himself pretty numerous, that
Teller they calls Pickles is his nephfy, an
you wants to look out n whole lot fer I've
heard him allow that tho KILN of his I'M
Gle was mighty rank, an no didn't like 1t
nohow.'
90 That's all right. says Jack. pickles
an mo has bon watchin each other fer an
hour an I'll toll you-all S private-if he
goes to play boss little bit no an his
unclc will be able to talk things over be-
fore night
Bimeby Pickles comes along where we
are.
Hello Jack' no says. Been maxim
1t smoky down in tho San Simon lately?'
No, not since last fall, says Jack
An now thinks of it sec that old Nav
ajo boss thief of an uncle of yours when I
was down there last. amt met him late
~, though. Where do you reckon he's
done lopcd to?'
Can't say myself, says Pickles, with
sort Of wicked chccrfulncss. Our fam
lily had q reunion over on Bear creek last.
spring, an couldn't count his nose among
'em nohow. Nlcbby no had an engage
mcnt an couldn't git there. Mcbby he's
out sloshin round in the high grass some
'crs now. Great man to 90 round pcrmis-
Gus, that 1njun was
" You see, says Jack, L didn't know
but he might DO dead, cause tho time
was ludin to was scttin in camp ono day
an happens to look UP, an thar was my
boss, Alazan, with perfect stranger on
him. Alazan was a-pitchin an a-buckin
an n-cavortin quite frightful an looks like
he was goln to cripple that stranger shore.
Well, you know me. I'd rather lose two
horses than have man don't know git
hurt, so grabs my winchester an allows
to Kill Alazan. But Ii WIS new gun, an
you know what now sights is--coarse rs
sand burs-an holds too high, an ketches
the stranger, bang right back OF his left
year, an the bullet comes outcn his right
year. never was so displeased with my
shootin for ten years. The idea of me
holdin four foot too high In 100 yards. 1
was so plumb disgusted an ashamed nov
or went near tho stranger till inter I'd fin
ished my grub Alazan, he came up nll
shlvcrin an swcatin an stood there. an in
an hour or 30 1 walks out to the remains.
an old digger Injun. You kin drink on it
I was relieved Bcin q no account Injun
of course / didn't paw him over much fer
brands, but it struck mo at the tilno it
was mighty likely to DO your uncle. This
old cuss skelp is over on my bride if You
think you'd know it.
" Oh no. says Pickles, mighty uncon-
sarncd, 1T couldn't bo my uncle nohow.
If 1t was one of my family, 1t would have
been your ha'r on his bride, so it must
have been some old shorthorn of Mo-
have, you seed. Woll, let's all take a drink
on it,
so veal went In fer our whisky, Jack
an Pickles watchin each other mighty
close an all the rest OF us on the kccvcc. as
the French say, to hop outcn range if they
took to shootin.
Well, says Pickles rs no secrctcd his
nose paint, i must saddle an git out of
here. want to SEQ Enright, an don't
reckon III find the old Pine this side of
Prescott either. When do you think you'll
leave yourself, Jack?'
" don't put it up I'll leave for q long
time, says Jack; 'mcbby not fur n month.
so don't go to maxim any friendly waits
fer mo nowhar on tho trail, Pickles. cause
you'd most likely run out of water or
somcthin before got along
"Bimeby Pickles he gifts saddlcd up m
comes chargin round on his little buck
skin boss, cuttin all manner of tricks.
reachin for things on the ground, snatchin
of Mcxicans hats an a-jumpin his pony
over wagon tongues an camp hxin's, all
the time awhoopin an a-ycllin an havin q
high old time all by himself You could
see he was a-gcttin up his blood an nerve
reg lar InjuD fashion. Pretty soon he takes
down his rope an goes to whirlin that.
Two or three times he comes flashin by
whar we were, m ] looked fer to see him
mako a try fer Jack. But he was too far