Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1898-10-12
y have missed killing both horse and

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perspiration stood on his brow. He
knew that if he missed this time there
would be no question in Sans mind
about who fired the shot. Resting the
gun on the ledge and keeping his eye
along the barrel, he had not the nerve
to pull the trigger. At last the retreat
! ing figure disappeared, and with it
Mikes chance of a fortune. He drew in
the gun and softly closed the window
with long, quivering sigh of regret.
Sidney Butler went west from Detroit
when he received the telegram that an
nounced his uncle's death and told him
he was heir to the ranch. He was 80
years younger than his uncle had been
at the time of his tragic death, and he
bore a remarkable likeness to the old
man-that is, likeness more than
striking when it was remembered that
one had lived all his life in city while
the other had spent most Of his days on
the plains. The young man had seen
the sheriff OIL his arrival, expecting to
find that active steps had been taken
toward the arrest of the murderer.
The sheriff assured him that nothing
more effective could be done than what
had been done by the dead man himself
in leaving 500, O'0 TO the killer of Hick-
ory Sam. The sheriff had made no move
himself, for he had been confidently ex-
peoting every day to hear that Sam was
shot. Meanwhile nothing had been
heard or seen of the desperate since he
left Salt Lick on the back Of the muir.
dered mans horse. Sidney thought this
was rather slipshod way Of admins
tering Justice, but he said nothing and
went back to his ranch. But if the sher-
| iff had been Indifferent his own cow
boys had been embarrassingly active.
They had deserted the ranch in body
and were securing the plains searching
for the murderer, making the mistake
of going too far afeld. They, like Mike,
had expected Sam would strike for the
Bad Lands, and they rode far and fast
to intercept him. Whether they were
actuated by desire to share the money,
O liking for their old 'boss' or hatred
of Hickory Sam himself they themselves
would have found it difficult to tell.
Anyhow it was a man hunt, and their
hunting instincts were keen.
In the early morning Sidney Butler
walked forth from the buildings Of the
ranch and struck for the open prairie.
The sun was up, but the morning was
still cool. Before he had gone far he
saw approaching the ranch single rid
erless horse. AS the animal came near
er and nearer it whinnied on seeing
him and finally changed it's course and
came directly toward him. Then he
saw that there was man on its back,
man either dead or asleep. His hand
hung down nervelessly by the horses
side shoulder and swung helplessly to
and fro as the animal walked on, the
mans head resting on the horses name.
The horse came up to Sidney, thrusting
its nose out to him, whinnying gently,
as if it knew him.
"Hello," cried Sidney, shaking the
man by the shoulder whats the mat
teri Are you hurt?"
Instantly the desperate was wide
awake, sitting bolt upright and staring
at Sidney with terrified recognition in
his eyes. He raised his right hand, but
the pistol had evidently dropped from it
when be, overcome by fatigue and
drowsy after his enormous meal, had
fallen asleep. He flung himself off,
keeping the animal between himself
and his supposed enemy, pulled the
other revolver and fired at Sidney across
the plunging horse. Before he could
fire again Sidney, who was an athlete,
brought down the loaded head Of his
cane on the pistol wrist Of tho ruffian,
crying:
"Don't fire, you fool; I'm not going
to hurt you."
As the revolver fell to the ground
Sam sprang savagely at the throat of
the young man, who, stepping back,
struck his assailant a much heavier
blow than he intended. The leaden knob
Of the stick fell on Sans temple, and
be dropped as if shot. Alarmed at the
effect of his blow, Sidney tore open the
unconscious mans shirt and tried to
get him to swallow some Of the whisky
from the bottle he found in his pocket.
Appalled, to find all his efforts unavail-
ing, he sprang on the horse and rode to
the stables for help.
The foreman, coming out, cried:
"Good heavens, Mr.. Butler, that's
the old mans horse. Where did you get
him? Well, Jerry, old fellow" he con-
tinued, patting the horse, who whinnied
affectionately, They've been using
you badly, and you've come home to be
taken care of. Where did you find him,
Mr.. Buller?"
"Out on the prairie, and I'm afraid
I've killed the man who was riding
him. God knows didn intend to, but
he fired at me, and 1 hit harder than l
thought
Sidney and the foreman ran out to.
gether to where Jerry's late rider lay
OH the grass.
"He's done for" said the foreman,
bending over the PROSTATE figure, but
taking the precaution to have revolver
in his hand. He's got his dose, thank
God. This is the man who murdered
your uncle. Think of him being knock
ed over with a city cane, and think Of
the old mans money back in the fam
lily again!"
THE END