The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-05-05
FIRING IT,
A Lesson in Pistols Given to a Man From
Boston.


Boston.
Coming East over the Atchison road
from Las Vegas, N. NJ, to Kansas CITY.
said J. f. Rankine of Elizabeth, N. J., "our
train was detained west of Dodge CITY two.
days by washout. There was crowd of
the toughest sort aboard, some of them
cattlemen from the ranges, and others
railroad men returning from the construc-
ton work of a railroad just completed. 1t
was hungry time, for there was nothing
to eat; but there was plenty of beer and
liquor aboard, and the passengers in the
intervals of drinking amused themselves
with cards and betting and by firing pistols
from the car windows at the telegraph
poles.
"ln one seat next window sat a very
young and innocent man from Boston. one
of the many from that locality sent out to
points along the line of the Atchison road
by the favor of the management, to grow
up with the country. He had come to the
conclusion that the Back Bay and Cam
bridge were western enough for his tastes,
and was on his way to the East. Beside
him sat stranger, big ranchman, wear
Ing black sombreIo. Inspired by the ex-
ample OF some men who were firing from
the car windows the Bostonian took from
his traveling-bag pistol that must have
been gift of a doting female relative. 1t
was an elegant little pearl-handled affair
its tiny barrel beautifully chased and orna-
mented. 1t looked more fit to be hung on
watchguard than to use as weapon, but
the owner, in imitation of the others,
DlaZed away with 1t at telegraph pole,
with about the noise and effect that fire.
cracker would have produced.
The ranchman beside him looked with
surprise and then with grim amusement at
the Boston mans shooting, and, for the
first time seemed to take an interest in
what his seatmate was doing.
" Let me look at that thing, stranger
he said.
''The Bostonian passed the pistol to him
with an expression of satisfaction on his
face, as much as to say: This is rather
neat thing, don't you know, and I'm in
the shooting as well as the Others. The
ranchman handled the wee weapon with
an affectation of admiring awe and ex-
amined it with grave curiosity.
It's a great firearm and no mistake
he pronounced. If twas mine would you
like to know how I'd fire it2'
''The Bostonian looked pleased and
nodded. The ranchman drew his own pis-
toll, an immense long barreled affair which
looked as if it ought to be mounted on
gun Carriage. OdIIuly he SUCK Il6 Ddrrel
of small pistol into its capacious muzzle,
and thrusting the big weapon through the
open window took deliberate shot at the
telegraph pole. The butt and barrel of the
little pistol few two ways as it struck the
telegraph pole in the center, while the big
bullet behind sent splinters flying as it
plowed through the timber.
"Upon this worse than contemptuous
treatment of his property the Bostonian
looked with CONSERVATION, and at first
was indignant. But he had some tact and
sense of humor despite his nativity,
and there being nothing better to do he
soon joined in with the others in the laugh
that was raised. His big neighbor passed
him a peace offering in the shape of a
flask approaching an army canteen in
size, the Bostonian pulled manfulIy at it
and for the rest of the trip the two were
most friendly companions. The ranch
man took the tenderfoot under his protec-
ton and would suffer no one to impose on
him. A grand rush followed our arrival
at the first railroad dining station, where,
after our two days fasting, meal for
fifty persons was served to the $50 fam
ished passengers. 1t was grab, everybody,
and the big man doomed above the crowd
as he strobe, holding aloft whole boiled
ham in one hand and a loaf of bread in the
other, back to the car to join his friend
from Boston. New York Sun.