The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1896-01-17

Black Butte Cattle company. In the
afternoon-for the agents time was
limited-the purchasing began. The
courteous old gentleman who had en-
tertained them so Hospitality the night
before did not haggle over prices. lie
paid cash for his new acquisitions in
crisp, new $500 notes-a proceeding
which, to make change, unfortunately,
drained the town in a short time OF all
it's smaller denominations.
By evening the English syndicate
had acquired a choice tract of land
living on both sides of the railroad, in
the heart of Lariat, for which it had
paid out some $4,000. McDougall,
editor and town marshal, had made
some thousands by the deal, and had
he been a ready speaker would prob
ably have said: "These Englishmen are
the biggest suckers | ever saw But,
as it was, he contented himself with the
simple words: "Beats ALL"
1t wanted but few minutes of train
time, next day, when the colonel, car
rying his compact little valise, his face
beaming with happy good nature, saun-
tered leisurely down to where the big
engine was putting and blowing, pre-
paratory to its long trip down the road.
81 must leave just at this time" he
said, ito transact some very important
business in Cheyenne. But I'll be back
in u week or ten days, and begin work
immediately" And he treated the lit
tie crowd about the train to cigars.
The whistle footed a warning note,
the bell rang and the colonel cordially
shook hands all around. Stepping on
the rear platform of t..e train, he
turned about once more and waved his
good-byes to persons in the distance.
Just at the moment that the wheels
began to turn, Hank McDougall, lis
marshal's star cleaning on his vest
he wore no coat-came running down
Wyoming avenue from the post office,
a yellow paper in his hand, which he
waved dramatically over his head.
''Stop that train!" yelled the town
marshal But the conductor and en-
gineer did not hear, and the train
moved on.
"Jump, you scoundrel, jump!" again
yelled Hank, at the same time drawing
his gun The colonels only answer
was a polite wave of the hand. Then
Hank took a snapshot at the fast de-
parting train, and-would you believe
it?-that little old man whipped out
two pistols from somewhere, quick as
q wink, and for a few moments the
way the bullets whistled about the
heads of the crowd along the track
was something wonderful. And as the
train grew smaller and smaller in its
straightaway course over the prairie,
the last act of the lone passenger Oh
the rear platform was to wave white
handkerchief towards the little city of
Lariat and disappear within the car.
The town marshal replaced his gun
in his hip-pocket and turned sadly
away. Deaf to repeated inquiries as to
the meaning of it all, he disappeared
within the editorial sanctum; for in the
midst of all excitement he still remem-
bered that, ex-officio, he was an editor,
and-he was both thrifty and eau
tious man.
An hour later another edition of the
Exponent appeared, double-leaded, as
if in mourning, and the copies sold for
q dollar apiece. The editorial was brief
and to the point:
"From a telegram received only too
late by our town marshal, because OF
the necessity of forwarding it by mail
from Crouch's, it appears that our late
distinguished visitor, Stemble, was
none other than the well-known des-
perado and confidence man Ike Rogers,
lately fugitive from the Black Hills.
It is painful to be forced to state that
the greenbaclls which Rogers so gen
erously distributed while in Lariat are
clever counterfeits, in exchange for
which he carried away thousands OF
dollars of our citizens earnings.
"The editor of the Exponent bids
farewell to his many friends, and an
nounces his intention of pulling up
stakes and moving Immediately to the
Big Horn country 1900 >f~