Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-07-13

gSs s'' thin ana face as and s r,ss
eyes. This yere man
was card sharp from his moccasins up.
an never knows him to have dollar
he doesn't gamble for. Nuthin' tinhorn,
though; sees him one night an he sets
calmly into some four-handed poker-s15.-
600 table stake-an' he's jest that sanguine
an hopeful about landin' on his feet as a
cimmarron sheep. OF course times was
plenty flush those days, an $4,000 don't
seem no such giant sum. Trade Is lively
an values high-aces up CALM for $500
tefore the draw. Still we amt none of us
maxim of gunwadden Of no such roll as
$4,000 even then. The days amt quite
SO halcyon as all that neither.
But what I likes speshul In Cherokee
Hall is his Judgment. He's every time
right He amt talkin' much, an he amt
needin' advice neither. moren pig needs
six-shooter. But when he concludes to
do things you can gamble he's got it plenty
right.
The Black Coated Passenger.
'One time this yere Cherokee and Dan
Boggs is comm in from Tucson on the
stage. Besides Cherokee an Boggs. along
comes a female close herdin' of two
young ones-which them infants might
have been stingin' lizards an every one a
heap happier-an' sorter in charge of the
whole outfit Is long. lean man, in black
coat. Well, they hops in an Boggs and
Cherokee gives 'em the two back seats on
account of the female an the yearlin's.
My name is JONES' says the man in
the black coat, when he gets settled back
an the stage is goin', AN I'm an eXhortin'
evangelist an l plucks brands from the
burrin'.'
I'm powerful glad to know It, says
Boggs. Them games of chance which
enjoys public notice in this yere cline are
some various, an l did think 1 shorely
tests 'em all: but if the device you names
was ever open in Wolfville 1 overlooks the
same complete
Pore, sinkln' soul,' says the black coat
man, he's fiounderin' in the mire of sin.
Don't you know. my pershin' friend, you
are bein' swept downward in the river of
your own sinful life til you soul will be
drowned in the abyss?'
We'll, no., says Boggs I don't. I al
lows l was maxim mighty dry ford of 1t.
Lost! lost! says the black coat man,
leanin' back plenty hopeless. Tt is stiff
necked generation an sorely perverse lot.
The Children and Cherokee.
well. the stage jolts along two or three
miles. an nuthin bein' said. The black
coat man he grOans occasionally, which
worries Boggs. an the two infants, gettin
restless, comes tumbin' over onto Cherokee
an go searchin of his pockets for memen-
toes. This yere is about pleasant an re-
frcshin' to Cherokee as bein' burned at the
stake, but the mother she leans back an
smiles, an, of course, he's plumb helpless.
Finally, the black coat man pints in for
another talk.
What is your name. my pore worm
says the black coat man, addressin' of
Boggs; AN whatever avocation has you,
and your lost companion"
Why says Boggs, this yeres Hall
Cherokee Hail. He turns faro in the Red
pf
his voice, hes as squar' a man as ever
counted deck. Actooly, pard, you might
not think it, but all that man knows about
cold decks or dealin' second or any sech
sinful schemes is jest mere tradition
Brother says the female, bristlin' up
an tacklin' the black coat man, don't talk
to them persons no more. Thems gam
blers, an mighty awful men, an with that
she snatches away the yearlin's like they
was contaminated.
This was some relief to Cherokee, but
the young ones bowls like coyotes an
wants to come back an finish robbin' their
victim. But the mother she spanks 'em,
an when Boggs was goin' to give 'em some
cartridges oaten his belt to amoose 'em
she sasses him scandalous, an allows she
amt needfn' no attention from him. Then
she leans back an shorts at Cherokee an
Boggs mighty contemptuous. The young
ones keeps on yellin' in a unmelodeous way,
an while Cherokee is cam an don't seem
like he minds 1t much. Boggs gets nervous,
an finally Tugs out his bottle, amin to
drink lot an compose his feelin's, which
they was some narrowed by now.
"Well, I never says the woman. I
shorely sees sots before now, but at least
they has the deceney not to drink before a
lady,
This stampedes Boggs complete an SO
he throws the bottle outen the stage. an
don't get no drink.
In the Dangerous Canyon.
after while the stage strikes into the
upper end of a dark, rocky canyon. This
yere canyon was about two miles long,. an
was lately reckoned some bad Nuthin'
had ever happened on the line. but these
we're was the days when Victoria an his
Apaches was cavortin' round plenty loose,
an it was mighty possible they was a-layin'
somewhat in the hills along the trail to
Tucson. II thew gets notion to stand up
the stage they was shore due to do 1t in
this we're canyon, wherefore Cherokee an
Boggs an old Monte, who's drivin', regards
it plenty suspicious.
Send 'em through on the jump. Monte
says Cherokee, stickin' out his head.
$50 the six horses lines out at a ten-mile
gait, which rattles things around whole
lot, an makes the black-coat man sigh,
while. the young ones sets up some ap,
mad at this, thinkin' as how they're play
in it low down on her family. But she
takes it out in cuffin' the yearlins now an
then, jest to keep 'em yellin. an don't say
well, the stage is about half through
the canyon, when all at once up on both
sides about twenty Winchesters begins to
hop an jump mighty permiscus, the same
.goin' hand in hand with some whoops of
cnusual merit. With the first shot old
Monte pours the whip into the team, and
them bosses goes into the collars like six
lions. It's plenty lucky aborigines amt no
shots. They never seems to get the phel-
osophy of a hind sight none an generally
you can't reach their bullets with a ten
foot pole. The only thing as gets hit this
time is Boggs. About the beginnin' little
cloud of dust f1ys outen the shoulder of his
coat, an his face turns pale. an Cherokee
knows he's creased.
Did they get you hard, old man? says
Cherokee, some anxious.
No. says Boggs, tryin' to brace HIM
SET, I'll be around in a second. I wishes /
had that whisky I hurls overheard min
ute back so graceful
well, the Injuns comes tumblin' down
onto the trail an gives chase, a shootin'
an a yellin', heap Jealous. AS they was
on foot an as the bus was maxim fifteen
miles an hour by now, they could jest man.
age to hold their own in the race, about
forty yards to the r'ar.
How Cherokee Planned 1t.
FINALLY Cherokee. after thinkin' Sec
ond says to Boggs: This yere is the way I
flggers it, If we keeps on this away these
IIjuns IL shore run in on us a half mile