The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1895-12-03
A WASTED LIFE.

odd circumstances. A persistent touch
Of rheumatism under my left shoulder,
which detied liniments and plasters,
sent me to the Hot Springs, seven miles
north of Boonopolis, southern Califor-
mia.
To reach the Hot Springs the traveller
crosses five miles of desert country,
where the cactus fiourishes like the
green bay tree, and the coyote shrills
at night his peculiar lay. Then he
climbs 1.-The grade" q rise Of 900 feet
in two miles. This part Of the way is
over a mountain road which skirts pre-
cipices and winds in and out among
canyons in q way that makes timid peo-
pie dizzy.
One beautiful winter afternoon Dea-
con Hardwicke started for the hotel.
That morning he had procured at Boon
opolis a livery team and a driver, and
had been taken to different points about
the valley, looking at lands which were
offered for sale. Having completed his
inspection, he was driven to the foot Of
the grade, and there he dismissed the
team.
He had in his hands a little black
leather wallet containing deeds, and,
as he walked along in his slow and dig
nifed fashion, his eyes bent on the
ground, he looked like a gentleman of
leisure, perhaps a wealthy eastern tour
ist out for an airing.
At the foot Of the grade is a little
ranch house, and just beyond the road
makes a turn almost at right angles
and skirts the edge Of a canyon, where
the traveller is hidden from view in
either direction.
In this angle of the way man was
waiting for the afternoon stage. which
was about due. 1t carried the mail for
the hotel and sometimes considerable
express matter, to say nothing of the
passengers.
But the deacon happened to come
first, and as he turned the corner, plod-
ding slowly along, he heard a smooth,
clear, firm, but not impatient voice say !:
wait a moment, sir. And kindly
hand over that gripsack and your mon
ey."
CHANGING up, the deacon beheld a big
revolver pointed at his head.
Deacon Hardwicke was surprised and
grieved. He was not q coward. He had
lived in many a lawless community,
had seen men lynched, had himself been
a target for bullets more than once. If
he had been armed, he would have
fought-as he afterward assured me.
But the appalling fact flashed over
him that he had nc "gun," and that
the gentlemanly stranger chad the
drop ON him.
Come" said the h~ighwayman in a
more threatening tone. Il mean bust
ness. Drop your wallet. Give me your
money, or III let daylight through you. ~
The deacon halted and shook his fist
at the man. What he said is not mate
rial to this recital. Then he turned and
ran down the grade.
The highwayman fired twice, and the
deacon afterward stated that the balls
whistled by i'll close proximity to his
head. The shots fustered him. He
stumbled, tripped and fell. He bruised
his shins and tore the skin from his
wrists. The wallet flew from his hand,
and he lay in the road, bowling with
rage and pain.
The marauder advanced leisurely and
picked up the wallet. Just then the
stage, which was a trife late, as usual,
rolled slowly around the turn in the
road.
The deacon's assailant leaped down
the steep bank Of the canyon and rolled
headlong among the chaparral.
The remarks of the passengers on the
stage, which picked him up and brought
him to the hotel, did not tend to make
him better natured.
Guess it was all a fake. p" Il didn',
hear any shots" More scared than
hurt" These were some of the wits
pered comments that came to the dea
con's ears.
"If l had only had a gum" he sale
to me, THAT fellow would never have
got out Of there alive. It's the disgrac,
that hurts. l don't see how l was care
less enough to leave my gun at .hom'
these times" he said, with tears in hi
eyes.
DO you think you would know tn
AAo SAiou2b Soo y VA aSoAhs
asked.
Il should know him anywhere. II
is short and why, dark hair, mustache
no beard, black eyes. And there is
great, red, flaming scar across his chez.
knife wound, l reckon"
I'm tell you what We'll do" l said
LET rs 60 to B~oonopolis and find him
He will soon sec that there is no pun
suit, and will certainly 60 there. PEI
haps we can arrest him yet"
Boomopolis at that time was only a
infant among tho cities of southern Ca,
ifornia. There were huge gaps anon
its business houses, now filled wit
stately ediGces. There were no pave
ments, and where 100 globes of electri
fire now glare at night upon the passel
by there was then only the dim and fl
full CLEAN of lamps from the window
of the scattered stores.
After All elaborate supper at the Tran
continental, served by retired cowbo,
from Arizona, we sailed forth to Wis