Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1895-08-22

In working Oh oogoaGoo Of cactus bed,
sage brush and hillside upon new
corners. His ungsinly, honest ap-
pesrance favored him, and he could
look the prospective purchaser in
the eye and weave the most remark
able romances without : CULVER Of
his clerical features. y
We became fast friends. and /
found him an interesting study. 1t
was the deacon's custom to make
frequent trips to Boomopolis on busi-
ness, returning to the hotel for more
of his beloved baths. To reach the
Hot Springs the traveller crosses Eve
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
''the grade" rise of q thousand
feet in two miles. This part Of the
way is over q mountain road which
skirts precipices and winds in and
out among canons in q way that
makes timid people dizzy.
At this time the great boom in
Southern California had just col
lapsed and numbers Of men who had
lost all their money found themselves
in a strange land, penniless and
friendless. AS result crime, par
ticularly robbery, was rampant.
One bright, beautiful winter after
noon, Deacon Hardwicke started for
the hotel. That morning he had pro-
cured at Boomopolis 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 in
spection he was driven to the foot Of
the grade, and there he dismissed
the team. No one else would have
done this after hard days ride; but
the deacon thought that the horses
were tired, and also that the exercise
of climbing the grade afoot would do
him good. He had in his hands
little black leather wallet containing
deeds. and, as he walked along, in
his slow and dignified fashion, his
eyes bent on the ground, he looked
like gentleman of leisure, perhaps
a wealthy Eastern tourist out for an
airing.
At the foot Of the grade is a little
ranch house, and, just beyond, the
road makes turn almost at right
angles and skirts the edge of a canon,
where the traveller is hidden from
view from either dire ction. In this
angle of the way man was wal ting
for the afternoon stage, which was
about due. 1t carried the mail for
the hotel, and sometimes consider
able express matter, to say nothing
Of the passengers. But the deacon
happened to come first. and. as he
turned the corner, Flooding slowly
along, he heard a smooth, clear, firm,
but not impatient, voice say:
''Wait moment, sir. And kindly
hand over that gripsack and your
money"
CHANGING up, the deacon beheld a
big revolver pointed at his head.
Deacon Hardwicke was surprised
and grieved. He was not coward.
He had come across the plains in 40.
He had lived in many lawless COM
munity, 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 ap-
palling fact flashed over him that he
had no gun" and that the gentle
manly stranger "had the drop" on
him. The politeness Of the latter's
address was not balm for his
wounded feelings.
Come" said the highwayman, in
more threatening tone. Il mean
business. 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 he said is
not material to this recital. Then he
turned and ran down the grade. His
hat bobbed off and his long coat tails
fluttered out behind. 1t was an undig-
nified and risky proceeding, but there
seemed no help for it, except to give
up his money and the deacon did not
consider that fora moment.
The highwayman fired twice, and
the deacon afterward stated that the
balls whistled in close proximity to
his head. The shots f1ustered 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 stage, which was was trifie late,
as usual, rolled slowly around the
turn in the road. The deacon's as
sailant leaped down the steep bank Of
the canon and rolled headlong among
the chaparral. He regained his feet.
crossed the rocky bed Of the stream
at the bottom OF the canon, and dis
appeared among the bushes on the
other side. The deacon lifted his
long, bleeding arms toward heaven
as he watched his foe depart beyond
the reach of effective pursuit, and
fairly screamed with impotent fury
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 fake" II didn't hear any
shots" More scared than hurt"
These were some of the whispered
comments that came to the deacon's
ears. But he sat glum, indignant and
silent until they reached the house,
Then he drew me aside, and /
helped him put court plaster on his
wounded wrists. IF / only had