The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1895-04-03
n @egsg2
u v gNNlNzzIz><
[SR g5EslE5 E5s(8
WA NzN&N ~ RISONER gives
| fWNSNHyXMl w. his name as
" d9ZNHNf = Jones'" said
NT 'pE the o fi q r,

Gs4 y 4; Il. ;;::::; ::?: !: !, - . !; !:
chuckling. Hes ironed hand and
foot, for fear of accidents; but mind, if
he goes for you, yell, and I'll let you
out"
So the policeman threw open the
grated door.
prisoner, here's your lawyer, and 1
warn you, if you smash him you won't
get another"
The door swung to behind me, but so
dark was the cell that at first I could
see nothing of "Mr. Jones'"
"Good afternoon n.--ahem!' said I,
feebly. One never knows what may
happen in the Bitter Root City jail.
II amt going to hurt you," growled
the prisoner. "Sit down; make your
self at home"
The voice was manly, resonant; the
man was young athlete; could just
see that his boots we're the dainty,
high-heeled Wellingtons of cowboy,
=, ,WAAAC OIO lCoUO4 III CoO--t
shirt, overalls, broad web belt and
silk handkerchief around the neck
bore out the character The mans
presence already brought up some faint
memory; indeed, felt that knew
him, but not under the surname OF
Jones. Surely this sunburnt young
'frontiersman was some old friendl
81 can't offer you any refreshments,
Mr.. Lawyer" said the boy, drowsily.
1.-THE accommodations, in fact, are slim
very slim. Why,"he woke up; what
the deuce are you staring at?"
Jack Brancepeth, l ventured, don't
you know me?"
what? Williams, major? Hurrah!
Shake, you duffer!"
1t was not easy to shake hands, for
my old schoolfellow was shackled,
spreadeagle fashion, to the bed.
EYES," he laughed; they've got me
roped for branding, and then they'll
clip my ears and corral me all by my.
self, lest l corrupt the good manners OF
the other victims"
SWELL, said |, frankly, lit jolly well
serves you right. A food who amuses
himself shooting the stock brokers on
on Change ought to be"
'Smacked," said Jack. II knocked
out three deputy marshals, damaged
one sheriff, bored few holes through
things generally. l wish could chew
up some more police, by way of dessert.
/ feel as happy as a chip"
"Look here, we're civilized people in
Bitter Root City; we're not used to
cow-punchers."
SWELL, you don't amount to shucks,
as you say. Look here; want you to
let down the bars of this corral-I've
been lonesome.
"How can get you out? Don't you
see-these stockholders are not used to
being shot ate"
"Yes," he groaned; that's what's
the matter. I've offended their little
local prejudices. But that's all right.
"All right for state prison." l ex.
planned.
He only chuckled.
"Well, did ruffie them up some.
But, as say, that's all right. I'll tell
you the straight yarn-then you can
turn it into the right kind of lies and
have them sworn to. See?"
"Go on" said I.
"Well, to begin with, got me
tract of meadow land up Wild creek,
back of Branchville, Idaho-do you
know the place? No? Well, / stocked
the ranch out of what I'd saved with
shorthorn bull by Climax, together
with thirty-nine head of scrub cattle
and band Of ponies. Since then,
whenever I've happened upon maver-
icks-unbranded cattle, you know
I've adopted the poor orphans, clapped
on my little Q-that's my brand-and
turned 'em into the pasture. There's
been some satisfaction in annexing old
Silas Hewson's calves, but even then it
amt over and above square dealing,
besides which it's slow work building
up wealth out of strays. So, suppose
one hundred head all told would make