The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1895-01-24

which Slackened to q walk at every
little grade. / found it easy enough
to keep pace with them; so easy in
fact tn at had to use my brake more
than once to avoid coming too plainly
into view as the old man wheeled sud-
denly around some sharp turn. / be-
gan to grow hungry as we'll as sleepy,
and dropped behind to strike a match
and consult my watch. 1t was past
midnight, and spurted ahead to catch
up again. If l had been a teamster
myself l should have been more eau
tious, for l knew that a little creek
crossed the road at the bottom of
draw" not far ahead. But my horse
never had to stop to drink, and won
dering why it took me so long to come
within hearing of them again, rolled
up to the very brink of this draw to
see Turpit watering his team at the
| bottom-not a hundred yards away
Like a flash l Topped down into the
tall grass, wheel and all.
whats that ?" | heard one of the
young fellows say.
"Oh, nothin' but an owl or coyote"
answered Turpit, who did not dream
that silent shadow was trailing him
so closely.
Don't give 'em too much now,
Tom," 1 heard him tell the young man
| who handled the bucket There's
another creek about ten miles ahesid;
We'll stop there to water again and
feed bit"
l was glad enough to hear that. 1t
might give me the chance to pass IRA
that had been looking for for t}feG Isl
thre hnurs. l might as well have tried
to run through hedge fence as to cut
out ON the opeu prairie through that
tall grass and faux them, as should
have done had the ground been clear.
If l remembered rightly, the next
creek was dry where the road crossed
it, with water hole a dozen rods up
stream. l allowed them to get good
start before picking myself and wheel
up out of the grass, and was careful to
keep well in the rear for several miles.
AS we neared the creek, however. l
closed up and crept along as close to
the old mans heels as dared. Yes,
my memory had not failed me, and
| felt the blood leap through my veins
as the team went down into the draw
and ! saw Turpit pull out of the road
| toward the water hole.
/ knew it would be by the merest
scratch if | got past without being
seen, but it was chance that | dared
not miss, and, putting on my best
| Snnp1 | shot 6nurn tbro11rb tho 1itf1a
hollow and up the other side before
the wagon came to a standstill. They
would have been sure to hear me had
l waited until they stopped, and as it
was | saw both the young fellows turn
their heads when | ratified through the
gravelly bed of the creek. expected
nothing less than shouts and lively
pursuit, but none came, and knowing
that | had the game in my own hands
then, nibbled my lunch as wheeled
leisurely on.
Sleepy, tired and sore enough, but
with the papers made out all ready to
file my tree claim on the four forties
bordering the river-I knew Turpit's
friends would not want the remaining
forties without the water-I was the
! first man to enter the door when the
land office opened the next moraistg.
| was none too soon either for 1&had
barely pocl1eted the receipt for my
entry fee, when Turpit and his friends
came in. Wishing to see the fun. l
stood behind a door in. the receivers
window. The young fellows quickly
handed in two presumption filings.
The register looked at the number and
shook his head.
You're just about five minutes too
late" said he. -Four of these forties
have just been taken"
(Which forties and who filed on
emp" beloved Turpit, his big face
purple with rage and establishment.
The register gave him the numbers
and my name. The old man nearly
fell over when he heard it, and the
three went outside to heap maledic-
tions on the head of "that darned
dude
That was him we heard on the
road, I'll bet boss, uncle" said one
of the young fellows; and he passed
us at that there dry creek"
Hans arrived about noon, and at my
suggestion Immediately filed upon the
back forties.
Now, Hans" said l, when we
prove up we will divide the land be-
tween us as we intended at first"
"Shiminy cracky! Dat bicycle!' ex-
claimed the big fellow, his fat sides
shaking with uncomfortable laughter.
'She's de boy vot done de business. l
guess Turpit don't laugh some more
about my shanging works vid you,
hey?'-Myron b. Gibson, in L. A. W.
Bulletin.