Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1897-03-25

cost 81 round for whisky every few
minutes, for red liker" was two bits
a drink in the days before the railroads
in Montana. That made no difference
to the range-rider. however. He might
lose his monthly stipend of $50 in one
night, but he could run ''sOme of bill"
for he had an all winters job ahead of
him, and the profit on the goods was so
many hundred per cent. that the host
could afford to take the chances. And
then, you know if he got real hard up
he could get few horses to break, and
$5 was easily earned by riding some
thing that no one else would. 1t was
little risky. to be sure; but then how
else could cow-punchers die If not roll
ed on or trampled to death by some ter
rifled horse. So the game went on.
The wind howled around the log
building, and the fine snow sifted
through some of the cracks where mud
daubing had fallen out. The box stove
roared and got red in the cheeks in an
unsuccessful attempt to keep pail of
water that stood in far corner from
freezing. Notwithstanding its efforts,
the crinkle of the ice was heard as the
cold outside increased. and penetrating
the cracks fought back the efforts of
the stove.
1t was about 10 o'clock in the morn
ing, but the sun was only up an hour or
80, and the ice-laden storm from the
north was making very successful at
tempt to conceal the fact. A blue fog"
was rolling through the gap, and the
mercury had all dropped into the bulb.
tired Of trying to keep track Of the &C.
centricities Of a climate borrowed for
the occasion from the snowy wastes of
British America.
The game went on mt the table in
quiet kind of way Every time the
range-rider moved his foot the spur
chains jingled on the floor. The stage
stock tender on the other side of the ta-
BILE was playing his best, for he knew
he had reached the limit OF his credit
at the bar, but the cards were against
him. Two sheep-herders completed the
quartette, and the sneaky-looking,
blear-eyed stock-tender sized them up
with Il glance that BODIED i'll If they per-
chance fell asleep before the till behind
the bar had received their rolls, earned
by standing out on the hills in the
storms of the six or seven months past.
Two wet colley dogs lay by the stove
with smoking pelts dreaming of the
trail, for every once in while one of
them would give a curious "yip-yip"
that suggested efforts to get slow
band Of sheep into the corral The bar
tender stood with his elbows on the
counter, peering out of the window
and waiting for the inevitable moment,
that occurred at more or less regular
intervals. when some one of the play
ers would "go broke" requiring II
round of drinks, Il dollar added to the
steadily increasing store in the till, and
Il redivision of the chips.
After doing the honors on one of
these occasions, he opened the door, ad-
mittlng n cold blast of air and snow
that made the card players swear. And,
peering out, he said:
Thine fur the stage. guess the Kid
must ha' missed the trail"
"Well, what If he haS?" growlcd the
stock tender, 10 whom the arrival of
the stage meant an hour of cold and
dlsagreeable work. ITS no use frcez-
ing us to death loolln' for him: he's no
chicken
The sheep -herders laughed. the range
rider yawned, when rattllng OF
wheels and harness and cheerful
''hullo" outside caused the game to be
forgotten, and all made rush to the
door. They We're greeted by two or
three mail sacks thrown with consider.
able force; and as the stocktender led
away the horses the driver, great
bundle of blankets, shawls and buffalo
robe, rolled of his seat and followed
the mail sacks, as they were dragged
through the saloon by the barkeepcr
into the store beyond.
After the driver had loosened up his
outer wraps and melted the frost from
his cyelashes, he looked around and
nodded to those present. When his eye
lit on the rangc-rider. he said:
"Hullo, BIZ; | saw Campbell at the
river aud he sent note to you. Her,
It Is" and he handed a piece of paper
to the rider. Bill looked at 1t moment
and then whispered softly to himself
glanclng out Of the window at tn,
scurrying snow meanwhile,
"He wants you to go down the soutl
side OF the Gap and see II them Basil
cattle that has drirted through are bad
ly mixed up with the Musselshell outfit
so he told me-" said the driver. "Ht
said fur you to so down this morning
stop over night at the q. H. home rancl
- L. l.