The River Falls times. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1894-1933, 1896-04-28
An ATTEMPTED SUICIDE.

Bill Burt rested his horse a moment
at the crest Of foothill overlooking
Statewide. There was yet q glow on
the top of the ragged peaks which was
more than a hundred miles from the
Sangre de Cristo range, but the twi-
light had faded in the valley and the
clustered lights of Statewide glowed
cheerily in the distance.
Bill Burt looked long and earnestly
in the direction of Statewide. Dis
mounting, he leaned against the
gnarled stump of a pine and slowly
filed a blackened briar pipe.
''There is Statewide, and it looks
good for man who has seen nothing
but cow punchers and greasers for six
MONTHS said Bill, as he impatiently
kicked loose stone and sent it IA ttling
down the slope. 'That brightest light
there is Tom Carneys joint. Bet that
Tom is back of the bar right this hin
ute. Can almost smell that hot Scotch
Six months? That's a long time with
cut drink. Bet I'm drunk before
midnight"
For half an hour Burt pulled away
silently at the black pipe. His eyes
were fixed on Stakeville, whose lights
cleaned brighter in the gathering dark
ness, but his mind was on the past In
memory he reviewed the last ten years
of his life. Thirty-two years old did
not rest lightly on Bill Burt. True,
the Well-built shoulders and powerful
limbs showed no signs of life's desper
10 Jelt 1T1R Il oIr
which fell in abundance from beneath
the faded sombrero, was fiecked with
gray and the tanned face was that of q
man well advanced in the forties. At
twenty-five, elected by big majority
to a responsible legal office in pOpu-
louS Eastern city; at tWenty-foIr
member Of the legislature and one OF
the acknowledged leaders of the house;
at twenty-five a drunkard and g. self
constituted outcast from the scenes OF
his early triumphs. Ayear later Burt
was on the frontier, and Tor six years
led a wild and desperate life rs Il cow
boy, prospectOr, ranger, guide ana for
several months as faro dealer. These
six years had been spent n losing
struggle against whisky. Once in reach
of liquor, Burt was drunk. sud- lly
he would disappear, and for months
the mountains. Here he was safe.
When there was no whisky to be had
Bill Burt had no desire for it; but the
return to camp or town meant a pro-
tracted debauch.
six months is long time" reflected
Bill as he placed his foot in the stirrup
and headed his pony toward Statewide.
'Mebbe I've gotten over it. I'll take
chance anyhow. But you can bet I'm
not going to stay away from any Sa-
looms or other places of entertainment
on that account. A man who can't
stand off liquor when he is stacked up
against it might as well quit. Ii find
| want drink I'm going to take it. If
1 don't want it there is no sucker in
Stakeville can force it down me-
Bill Burt found that he wanted a
drink, and that he wanted several of
them Long before midnight he was
drunk, and an hour later celebrated his
return to civiliza ton by ''winging' a
man and incidentally by demolishing
part of the back bar of Tom Carney's
cafe. At the end of a week the savings
of six months hard work had been
squandered. Bill awoke one morning
fevered, penniless and desperate.
''There is nothing in this kind of
life for me-" said Burt as he surveyed
a swollen face and red eyes in the
fragment of glass which decorated
his room in a lodging house. II might
as we'll end it now as any time"
He picked up his gun and examined
lit carefully. Standing in front of the
glass, he placed the nuzzle against his
forehead. He held it there a moment,
lost in thought, and then placed it
back in his belt.
said Bill Burt. "a man is a coward