The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1898-06-12
Passing Of Bill Dangler.
A Story Of Dynamite and vindictive IndiaI

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A-~--~-o-~~~~-~-~~-~~~
Up in the Sierras. close to the line
where old Butte mages into Plumas,
and not many miles from the Big Sum-
NIT, is situated the mill Of one of the
largest lumber companies in California.
Above the mill site the waters Of
little stream are turned into V-shap-
ed f1ume, into which the newly cut lum-
Der is dropped to be discharged at the
terminus in Chico. The flume Is Of
comparatively recent date Twenty
years ago, instead of the fume, line
of great wagons reached from the up
per Sierras into Butte county's metrop-
Oils
About fifteen miles below the mill,
within hundred yards Of the Little
Summit. stood a one-and-a half story
structure known as "Bragg's Place"
Here Mr.. James Bragg, late proprietor
Of the White Fawn Bar" at Dutch
Diggfngs, dispensed refreshments to
the thirsty in a pleasing manner, and
his place being situated at the end of
the first days drive on the return trip
OF the wagons, it seemed but common
courtesy for the teamsters to speed the
evening within his welcome doors when
camping in that vicinity. ~
The June sun was slowly sinking be-
hind Hog-Back ridge as Mr. Bragg sat
on his portico carrying on a desultory
conversation with a person who squat
ted on the floor near him. This indi-
vidual was Of aspect hardly prepos-
sessing. He was an Indian-probably
a Cherokee. His left eye was sightless,
while the other had a CLEAN that might
or might not have been evil, but which
was not calculated to inspire confidence.
The Indians garb was Of the coarsest,
even for the mountains, and his general
appearance seemed scarcely to justify
the statement made Of him-that he
earned good wages as a hunter who
supplied the mill hands with meat
AS the sun sank from sight, Mr..
Bragg rose to his feet. Them fellers,"
said he, jerking his thumb toward two
men engaged at cards dn the bar room,
most likely anticipates KILN very
much deer in these parts afore another
week. They is here for that purpose,
Injun, and with the guns they has they
shore ought to succeed"
The Indian leered at the men through
the open door, and settled back with a
grunf. The grunt meant that Injun
resented the hunting Of strangers in
this vicinity as an infraction Of hic
personal rights.
The Jingle Of bells came family from
down the road.
Mr.. Bragg squinted one eye and
stroked his shaver chin. ''Lemme see,
Injun, this be Wednesday; Bill
Dangler and Hi Simpson and that
crowd had ought to be a-pullin' in here
about this time O. night from below" Mr.
Bragg evidently knew whereof he spoke
Half an hour later. four great wagons.
each drawn by sixteen horses and driv-
en- by the men Mr.. Bragg had mention
ed, came to a halt near his door,
That night the glasses clinked mer-
rily in Bragg's place. At the company's
office in Chico the teamsters had receiy-
ed their monthly stipend. and many
We're the jests as they squared their
counts" with their host for the LIQUID
refreshments he had furnished them
since last pay day. Mr.. Bragg's two LODI
gers from the city suffered themselves to
be introduced, when, with his instinc-
tive politeness, that gentlemen asked
their pleasure in a whisper rather more
audible than a conversational tone. In
q very short space OF time an era of
good fellowship had been inaugurated.
Injun quietly skunk into the bar room
and dropped down in remote corner.
His modesty was speedily rewarded.
He was seized and hustled UP to the
bar. Mr.. Bragg and his guests were far
too liberal minded to entertain any
prejudice of race.
Mr. Arthur Robinson, sportsman, adj
dressed Mr.. Bill Dangler, mule-punch-
er: you work for the lumber COM
pany, I believer"
tNo, we works for jim Bragg; don't
you see US turnin' in our earnins to
him?"
This burst of wit was followed by
loud laugh, and the loud laugh by
long drink
Mr.. Hi Simpson set his glass upon
the bar. and said: "Jim, I reckon if
you had a-known what kind of a cargo
Bill has got in them bundles on his
wagon, you might not "a been so anX-
icus for him to slap on his brake in
front of your place tonight"
Bodies O. dead menu" queried Mr..
Bragg.
''Wuss than that"
What them"
"Dinnymite.'
Mr.. Bragg opened his eyes wide, and
puckered his lips. "Dy-na-mite?
yep; enough to blow this whole She
bang to hell"
(Which amt the wust part of it," in
terposed Mr., Bill Dangler. 81 has to
go slow down Jack Rabbit Run with
that cussed stuff. and if I wants to get
to the mill by tomorrow noon, 1 has to
pull out O. this camp by four o'clock
in the mornin',"
why no can go faster?" asked the
indian.
Mr.. Bill Dapgler turned a plying
smile on the Cherokee.
'Why, Injun, if 1 lets my bosses trot
down Jack Rabbit Run and shakes up
that load O. hell-fire it shore explodes;
and Bill Dangler amt ready to go to
them happy huntin' grounds O. yourn,
not just yet"
Eleven o'clock found the center of
attraction in Bragg's place a spirited
game of poker. Mr.. Bragg participated
as a spectator only-Mr. Bragg knew
his business. Gradually those who
were losers dropped out, and by mid
night the game had narrowed down to
four players-Mr. Arthur Robinson
Mr.. Bill Dangler, Mr.. Hi Simpson, and
Injun still occupied seats at the table
with honors about even. though the
little pile of money in front of each was
somewhat larger than when the game
began.
At the table, luck presently seemed
to favor the Indian. The stakes were
by no means large, yet Injun glutton-
ously raked them in. He was rarely 10
quacious, but the occasion seemed to
demand some comment. 'Injun very
much understand how" he said.