The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1895-12-03
A WASTED LIFE.

A WASTED LIFE.
first met the deacon under rather
odd circumstances. A persistent touch
of rheumatism under my left shoulder,
which defied hniments 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 fourishes like the
green bay tree, and the coyote shrills
at night his peculiar lay. Then he
climbs "the grade" 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 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 livery team and 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
nified fashion, his eyes bent on the
ground, he looked like a gentleman Of
leisure, perhaps 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 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 big
revolver pointed at hisshead.
Deacon Hardwicke was surprised and
grieved. He was not coward. He had
lived in many a lawless community,
had seer, men lynched, had himself been
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 no "gun,' and that
the gentlemanly stranger chad the
drop" on him.
"Come," said the highwayman in a
more threatening tone, 81 mean bust
ness. Drop your wallet Give me your
money, Or I'll let daylight through you.
The deacon halted and shook his fist
at the man. What be said is not mate
rial to this recital. Then he turned and
ran down the grade.
The highwayman fred twice, and the
deacon afterward stated that the balls
whistled by in 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 few 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
c+ao,a xub;oh mos q kriAa Ioko &c .-..-oI
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. - ST didn't
hear any shots. " more scared than
hurt These were some Of the whis-
pered comments that came to the dea-
cons ears.
"If I had only had gun" he said
to me, ''that fellow would never have
got out of there alive. It's the disgrace
that hurts. don't see how was care
less enough to leave my gun at home
these times, he said, with tears in his
eyes.
DO you think you would know the
fellow should you see him againp" I
asked.
II should know him anywhere. He
is short and why, dark hair, mustache,
h1onl An l.
great, red, flaming scar across his cheek
knife wound, reckon.
"I'll tell you what We'll do, +" said.
"Let us go to Boonopolis and find him.
He will soon see that there is no pur-
suit, and will certainly go there. Per-
haps we can arrest him yet.
Boomopolis at that time was only an
infant among the cities of southern Cal
ifornia. There were huge gaps among
its business houses, now filled with
stately edifces There were no pave
ments, and where 100 globes of electric
fire now glare at night upon the passer-
by there was then only the dim and fit
full CLEAN of lamps from the windows
of the scattered stores.
After an elaborate supper at the Trans
continental, served by retired cowboys
from Arizona, we sailed forth to visit
the saloons and gambling places in
search of our robber We made three or
four circuits of the town without suc-
cess, and finally found ourselves in the
Magnolia club rooms.
was enjoying the character of anna
teur detective hugely. So far there was
a pleasant tinge of excitement-or rather
an expectation of excitement-andv very
little danger. But as we scanned the
faces Of the company without seeing
our man the deacon's brow grew black
with disappointment.
It was now after midnight. The Cigar
store was closed, but the bar was kept
open all night Disappointed in our
search, we became absorbed in watch
ing the game.
There is something of the gambler in
every man, and as / looked upon the
tense, excited faces of the players the
contagion Of their example seized me,
and I felt in my pocket for coin. Find
ing nothing but silver, which did not
like to stake, as there was none on the
table, was on the point of borrowing
a double eagle from the deacon when
heard quiet but distinct voice at the
end of the room say:
Glands up, gentlemen, if you pleasel'
CHANGING around, saw man stand
ing at the door leading to the bar, re-
volver in each hand pointed at us. He
was short, slight man, with dark hair
and a flaming scare across his face.
There was no confusion. One of the
loungers quietly placed his back against
the door leading to the Cigar store and
drew two revolvers, which he pointed
along the table. Two others, evidently
confederates also, stood at ease awaiting