, 1897-03-27
THE TRAGEDY OF DEAF SMITH.
A Tale of an Eary Texas Town.

One who hasn't lived through a summer
in West Texas doesn't know what that
means. There is nothing like it in any
other part OF America, unless it be on
the alkali plains Of Arizona and New
Mexico. where, perhaps, it is a little hot
ter. Deaf Smith was an unattractive
place, consisting of six shanties. 1t
nestled in a valley in the hills of the
Pecos country, surrounded by scrub-oak,
mesquite, and chaparral. In 1850, Deaf
Smith was the most important place for
miles around.
1t was on August 18th, according to
the store-keeper's reckoning, but no one
was certain about it. There were no
calendars in Texas in those days. The
heat rose in tremulous waves from the
powders in the dry river-bed. A dozen
cattlemen were lolling around in the
store, trying to keep cool. 1t was too
hot even to talk.
Suddenly one of the men looked up
and asked: Whats that?"
Sounds life hoof-beats." said anoth-
er. The stOre-keeper got up and went
to The door. A thin cloud OF moving dust
was rising from the trail behind Il low
hill. Behind the dust-cloud came a
horseman. He was still half u mile
away, and the thick carpet OF dust dead
ened the sound of his bronco's feet as it
galloped along the trail, but it could be
heard distinctly. One or two of the men
staggered drowsily TO their feet and
looked in the direction OF the dust
cloud.
Looks like Ned Curtis said big Bill
Edwards, shading his eyes with his
hands TO escape the suns care. WON
der what in - he's doing out in this
sizzlin' heat! Some'in' must be wrong
over at the Ross place"
The dust column came nearer and
nearer, sometimes obscuring the horse
man and sometimes drifting to. one side
and giving the men at the store u good
view OF him. He could hardly keep his
seat. He swayed from side to side in
his saddle, and once or twice almost lost
his balance. When The bronco stagger-
ed up to the store Il few moments later,
its rider tumbled into the dust. The
bronco, relieved Of his weight, gallop-
ed On a title further and fell also. 1t had
carried its last burden.
The rider was unconscious when Ed
wards reached him. He was lying face
downward. Edwards called for assist
ance, and half n dozen men carried him
into the store and laid him on the floor.
His face was grimy with blood and dirt,
and there was a wound in his left tenn
pie from which the blood had run down
over his face and his neck in a tiny lit
tie rivulet.
Some brandy, quick" shouted Ed
wards, and half n dozen TASKS were pro-
duced. Edwards forced some between
the mans hairy lips. 1t vas Curtis.
They worked with him for half an hour
hour before there was a sign of life.
Then there was a slight t%witching of
the muscles Of the jaw, and Curtis OPEN
ed his eyes. He stared about him for a
minute and then closed them again.
What is it, Ned?' asked Edwards.
Curtis opened his eyes again. The
sound of Edwards voice seemed to re-
store his senses. He gasped, feebly:
"Injuns! Greasers! Everybody dead at
our place! Cattle and horses gone!
Shnnty h,rrpinrp' rTtnp lo
again.
One Of the men ran to the door and
looked out over the hills to tha south
west . Away over the hills he saw n
thin column of smoke. It WIS IL miles
away, but in the clear Texas atmosphere
II was plain enough. The man returned
to the group about Curtis. Edwards
was just spreading a bandana handker-
chief over the PROSTATE mans face. The
store-keeper was coming with another
can Of water.
Needn't poster yerself. Nike" said
Edwards. Ned don't need nothing.
He's dead"
Silently the men walked out of the
store. There was a stern look on every
sunburned face. No one said a word,
but the men went out to n group OF
scrub-oaks, where the horses were pick
eted. In u few moments they were back
before the store, mounted and ready for
action. They were not demonstrative in
their friendships. Whole-souled Ned
Curtis, who had braved many u danger
with them. was dead. The Greasers had
done it. The Greasers must suffer or
kill Ned Curtis's friends too.
Amt much chance that the ROSES is
left" said Edwards, as the cavalcade
struck out over the trail at u swinging
lope. But we'll ketch them Greasers
ufore they gifts fur, and then" Ed
wards did not finish his sentence. but
looked at the printing Of his short Mis-
sissippi rifle.
There were IL men In the party, stur-
dy, bronzed fellows. with shaggy hair
and long boards. They looked at their