Arizona republican., 1898-02-27
OLD TOM RAGS.

OLD TOM RAGS.
 If that feller'd die," said Gibson, The wouldn't miss himself, ard mo- body else'd miss him.
 We all gazed silently at the object of this remark as he lurched across the plaza When he had tumbled into the doorway of the cattleman's saloon the l old colonel said gravely:
 You can't always tell, gentlemen; you can't always tell.'' And he threw away the stump of his cigar.
 There was a peculiar movement | among the little knot of men about him. One or two took a fresh chew. Another got out his pipe and began to fill it. All seemed to settle themselves l in their chairs or twist their feet lit | tie higher against the pillars in front of the hotel. In moment it was over, and then came the slow, quiet drawl of the colonel's voice.
 "I guess some of you boys never heard of Tom Rags. Maybe he had another name, but never heard of it. We called him Tom Rags and it fitted him better than his clothes. He was like that feller, only dirtier. There wasn't low down thing he wouldn' t do to get drink. Steal! Why he'd steal the specs off a mans nose. We used to be sorry for him at first, for he'd beg drink with tears in his eyes, till somebody'd give him one. But by and by it got so that every man in town wanted to step indoors when he saw Tom Rags coming. He was harm less enough, too. He'd just steal some thing, while he was drunk, get locked up till he was sober enough to die, all most, if he didn't get drink, then beg drinks of everybody he saw, till he was drunk enough to steal and get locked up again. Oh, no, he never did any harm, but there is a limit, gen. tlemen, limit to every towns pa tience. And this town found that limit with regard to old Tom.
 'It happened this way: Judge Weeks brought in a bunch of cattle and sold 'em, and as usual, he started out to do the town. He just went from one end of the plaza to the other, and back again, and whenever a drink was to be bought, which was more regular than now, he just went In and bought one or more. And wherever the judge went Tom went. Sometimes he'd get treated and sometimes he wou dn't. But as the judge started out sob9r, and Tom started loaded about half, they both reached the same point a. the same time, you see. Well, no, not quite the same time. Tom must have given up about a minute later than the judge. Next morning they were found right in the middle of the plaza, the judge on his back and Tom on his face, alongside, with his hand in the judges pocket. -
 Well, gentlemen, we held a meeting right there. The evidence was plain. It stayed plain all through the meet ing. We came to the conclusion that we'd had enough of Tom Rags. So when he was sober enough to walk, somebody gave him an old burro, and the rest of us clipped in and gave him some grub. Then we told him to git and he did git.
 Gentlemen, talking is dry work in this climate. If you will join me a moment I will then tell you what happened to Tom Rags"
  Lieutenant Rixford was killed, in an Indian fight, up beyond Fort Sandy. And when they had buried him his
 
 was next to impossible to give her an escort out, but after little while. the doctor said she must go or she would die, too. She wanted her mother, l I guess. So they sent her, and her baby, off in an ambulance, with an old sergeant and one trooper-all they could spare, and more too. It was four | days to the railroad then, and the sec ond night out they camped by a lit tie rocky hill. They found sheltered place among the rocks, part way up the hill, and they put her and the baby and her things in there, while | the men camped down below, by the ambulance.
 "Well, sir, just at daybreak, as they were getting a fire going, there were a dozen rife shots, and a yell, and in less time than it takes to tell it. a band of Apaches had scalped those SOL diers, set fire to the ambulance and driven off the mules. That they didn't find her was Godsend-or rather the sand storm that had wiped out the trail up the hill was a Godsend. But there she was, alone in the desert sixty miles from water, with nothing to eat and nothing to drink.
 ''1 don't know how long she sat there on the side of the hill just below her little hiding place, nor did she. She was dazed, I guess. But the first thing she knew after the Indians had l gone, she saw man looking at her | from the foot of the hill, only a few yards away-a dirty, disreputable, i ragged fellow; and by his side lean old burro, with a pack. She started up in terror, clutching her baby tight, and stood staring at him, all pale and trembling. I can see that picture any day, gentlemen. How she must have looked. She was SO young and SO