The Lehi banner. [volume] (Lehi, Utah) 1891-1917, 1898-02-15
DOC PIPPIN.
BY cY wARMAN.

Tonight" zaSSF
"Nol" ~.r,
"Yes. Will you jine me?"
whats it cost?" 1 asked.
"Forty-nine dollars second class from
st. Louis to Denver"
"Have you got the money!"
Doc shook his head.
"Did you ever see that much money ?'
swell, not at one look, but I've got
il all figured out"
'How much have you got?"
Haven't got any, but 1 got job at
Whiticer's stable in Carr street, an IL
you go I'll see that you never want.
We can sleep in the haymow and board
around"
How'll we get to St. LOUISE" 1
asked.
ride when we're tired of walkin' an
walk when we can't ride" was his re-
ply.
The thought of getting up at morn
ing and not knowing where I was 60
ing to sleep at night frightened me,
and told Doc so, and we parted.
few years later, when the west
bound train stopped at a little bleak
and dreary mountain town where /,
having gone west, had elected to drop
anchor, | looked out from the car win
dow and saw Doc sitting close up to
the crooper of an old sorrel horse that
was hitched to an express wagon.
/ went over to him at once, for was
lonesome. A mountain town is not a
thing that one is apt to love at first
sight. Desolate! That is better than
four columns of agate to describe the
place. The dry March winds came out
of the canyon and swept the sands of
the mesa up into eddies and swtshsd
and swirled in around your collar and
cut your face. The sunlight was 30
dazzling that it bewildered and seemed
unreal, and the cold winds were con-
stantly contradicting it's warmth.
"Are you homesick, Doc?" / asked
as l rode uptown with him, for he was
there to haul people and their baggage
up to the hotel.
''Nop," he said "It's the dry wind
it's busted my lip so that look like
Pm goin' to cry when I'm tryin' to
laugh. I'm goin' back home this fall, -
he added, after a pause, ''to get my
money-I'm 81 now, but I'm comm
back out here-this country is all
right"
Doc, who had earned his title by doc
toring his uncle's horses, had inherited
little fortune of 81 800, and when the
summer had come and gone he went
back home in Pullman car, for he had
saved $50 out of his salary of $50 and
board every month.
Five years later, in the dawning of
the morning, as was climbing out of
an upper berth at another mountain
town, man caught hold of my coat
tail, and found that the "man under
my bed" was Doc Pippin. He said he
was living in Denver; so was I. and
in few days he came in to see me.
He came often, and told the best stories
l had ever heard. He was thin and
pale, and / noticed that he coughed
and pounded his left lung when he
did so. Those stories were not told to
me for publication, but I know he will
not care, for he is careless now.
Doc went TO Chicago after receiving
his money and became acquainted with
a well-known detective. think he said
it was Billy Pinkcrton. 1t was like the
Pinkertons to detect in this almost
beardless boy a remarkably intelligent
person.
Pippin got an offer of employment,
he accepted it and was sent at once to
n small town in Illinois TO find out a
band of thieves who were stealing hogs
and robbing shops.
If Doc had tried he could never have
dressed well. Even clothes that were
made for him didn't fit, and he wore
his hat crosswise, like the leading man
ut a French funeral. His appearance
upon this occasion was in his favor, and
he was not long in forming the ac-
quaintance OF the toughest lot of loaf
ers in the town. They liked Doc, as
everyone did who knew him, but it was
n long time before they would trust
him. Docs money gave out, and he tried
IN borrow, and the gang gave him the
laugh. "Git out an turn trick
work." said one of the men.
what can I do? Show me and then
watch me-" said Doc.