Aberdeen herald. [volume] (Aberdeen, Chehalis County, W.T.) 1886-1917, 1897-03-25

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cost 81 round for whisky every few
minutes. for red liker" was two bits
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 500 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
S. was easily earned by riding some
thing tina: no one else would 1t was a
little risky. to be sure; but then how
else could cow-punchers die If not roll
ed on or trampled to deaf tn by some ter
ritied 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 penetra ting
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
so. 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.
centrcities of a climate borrowed for
the occasion from the snowy wastes Of
British America.
The game went on at the table in
quiet kind of way. Every time the
range-rder moved his foot the spur
chains jingled on the floor. The stage
stock tender on the other side of the ia
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 a 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 a 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 Ego broke" requiring
round of drinks, a dollar added to the
steadily increasing store in the till, and
a redivision of the chips.
After doing the honors on one of
these occasions, he opened the door, ad-
hitting 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?" growled the
stock tender, to whom the arrival of
the stage meant an hour of cold and
disagreeable work. ITS no use freez-
Ing us to death lookin' for him; he's no
chicken
The sheep-herders laughed, the range
rider yawned, when rafting of
wheels and harness and cheerful
"hullO" outside caused the game to be
forgotten, and all made rush to the
door. They were 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 off his seat and followed
the mail sacks, as they were dragged
through the saloon by the barkeeper,
into the store beyond.
After the driver had loosened I'D his
outer wraps and melted the frost from
his eyelashes. he looked around and
nodded to those present. When his eye
Lit on the range-rider he said:
"Hullo. Bill; saw Campbell at the
river. and he sent a note to you. Here
1t u.s." and he handed a piece of paper
to the rider. Bill looked at 1t a moment,
and then whispered softly to himself,
CHANGING out of the window at the
scurrying snow meanwhile.
"He wants you to go down the south
side of the Gap and see If them Basin
cattle that has drfted through are bad
~ mixed up with the Musselshell outfit,
so he told me-" said the driver. "He
said fur you to go down this morning,
stop over night at the o. II. home ranch
on Careless Creek. and send word by
me when come back tomorrow; and
If the cattle amt scattered yit he'll
send over n wagon outfit and try and
work 'em back into the Basin
Eyes" said Bill slowly, that Is what
he says here; but. great God! does he
expect me to go when this fog is a-blow-
ing?"
II suppose So" said the driver. HE
said If you didn't go now it would be
no use later, fur the cattle would be
scattered sure, and the Basin roundup
would lose heap"
The cow-puncher made no reply, but
stepping up to the bar he said: "Give
me a drink. Jack: it'll take considerable
of your stuff to keep man from freez-
in to death to-day" Taking liberal
dose of the liquor referred to he pulled
up the belt of his leather "chaps," ad-
justed his siX-shooter, and taking
blanket-lined canvas overcoat from a
nail on the wall. pulled 1t on. He then
tied a silk handkerchief over his ears