The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1896-01-17
IN THE DAYS OF GOLD.

ne was SGfdlgHJ; anu gTALAIoug anu
keen of eye. He had worked, and
fought, and gambled his way through
the lawlessness and passion of the
states early life into the decency and
uprightness of a successful contractor.
His name was Bill Bowen.
AS civil engineer, 1 came more or
less in contact with him, and rejoiced
in the Iargeness of his mental mould,
as well as in the business sense of Sc
curity he let me enjoy.
One summers night we took drive
to distant town on the San Joaquin
river. We had to look at stone for a
bridge building, and the blistering heat
of the day made Us willing to lose our
sleep for the more comfortable travel
ing by starlight.
The horses logged lazily through the
coarse, thick dust on the rivers leVee,
and the insects from the grain fields
and the frogs from the sloughs had
things wholly to themselves until Bill
suddenly interrupted:
"Mrs. Chase is pretty enough yet to
understand why she sent two fellows to
the devil, isn't she?".
"What are you talking about?" an
swered.
"Oh," said Bill, pulling himself up, u
forgot you didn't struggle with the rest
of US through those grOggy days"
I knew Bill we'll enough to let him re-
lapse just so many minutes; then said;
"Judge Chase's wife is lovelier at sixty
than most girls at sixteen, but I hadn't
any idea she figured so rOmstnically in
the early days as tosend anybody over
board"
"H'm," replied Bill, refectively.
The horses travelled on without at
tention, and I waited in patience.
"You know what it was like" he be-
gan at last. "Men with guns from all
over the union, and gold the heaven We
sweated for. Prayers, and court, and
the gambling tables all running under
one roof and nary a wOman's face SHOW
ing up in the mass to give US courage
To be sure, there were vixenish ribs of
Satan who robbed, and killed, and
drank with the worst of US: but until
81 we'd never the woman for reverence.
Then, by degrees, the lawyers, and a
stray merchant or two aired their
families, but things wasn't dizzy until
pretty Grace Blanchard got out with
her father,
understand, she carried herself as
she'd ought to; but, understand, there
was men among US as was born and
bred to live with blood. The mass of
US had to take out our satisfaction in
looking at her; but for two the favor
in old Blanchard's eyes was easy read
ing, and it wasn't long seeing the
course the straw took.
MED Emory was a long, lean, blond
fellow, with a blamed fine face and a
way that made friends of the toughest.
They said he looked a swell when he
called at the Blanchard's, but I never
saw him but like the rest of us-red-
shirted and OVeralled, and an angle to
his pistol that made him joy.
"GeOrge Stokes-'Shorty, we called
him-Was a man with an answer that
ripped like a knife and head that
made a success OF everything, because
itcould work cooked as we'll as straight.
He'd been on the bench, out he'd lOeat-
ed vein at Mariposa, and was over
seeing up there in 80. Naturally, he
lost opportunities, not being right on
the spot, and the danger began.
''The Blanchard house was sweIled
larger than most of the cabins and had
two long windows that opened onto a
porch. Things might never have been
so bad, bat for those two Hdless eyes
in front.
Zone fatal night Shorty Stokes rode
into the settlement-but I am getting
ahead Of affairs"
Bill tossed his cigar into the tules,
and hurried the horses into effort as
the interest Of his "reminiscences swept
him on.
'Fhe girl carried herself after the
fashion Of high steppers, and neither
fellow could swear where he stood. It
was laughter and spirit for both of
them, they said, and nip and tuck for
the yielding. The pace vas the sort
that exhausts men, and Shorty's brain
for lawyering cooked up a scheme for
his rescue. He was for their going to-
gether some night before her, and, at
tor 3 formal marriage proposal, each