The Forrest City times., 1900-11-30
The Garment of Iron By Gwendolen 0verton.

rattlesnake and tarantula. The tar autula scuttled off, he killed the rattle ,nake. and the tumble weed and sand he emptied out. Then he had the ar nor done up in a shelter tent and put upon a pack mule. After which. the column moved on. It should not have halted at all, for it was in pursuit of band of Indians. But there were bands of Indians every day, and the finding of full suit of armor lying under a mesquite bush beside their trail was rare.
 When he got back to his two-com- pany post on the banks of the Gila, he found the interest in life, which had been lacking for him up to then, in enlarging that knowledge. He sent east for books and histories and trea- tises concerning coats of nail and the men who have worn them, and he even went so far as to write to the Smith sonian institution, at the risk of having a government commission sent out at once to seize his treasure. And in the interval of two months which elapsed before he received a reply-for the railroad was only to Kansas in those days-he set about cleaning the armor himself, and with his own hands join ing it together.
 He was so occupied, what with that and the histories and the other books, that he forgot to have Gila bottom ma laria and had no time to worry about bl once more bright as the azure shield of Achilles, and he had proved to his own and to eyeryone's satisfaction that if must have once protected the body of one of Coronado's men. and must date from the middle of the sixteenth cen tury, or therea bout, he hung it up in his one-room adobe quarters, along with the Indian trophies that were as nothing now and the bottled reptiles of many sorts; and the fame of it spread through the land. An English lord, in a pith helmet and gray linen, who was going about the country. tray. eled miles out of his way 10 look upon it; and scientific party from Boston did the same. Hartpole was beginning to be very proud. when, one day, he had a visitor of another kind.
 It was a man he had seen sometimes hanging around the agency and the post--a small, 1.-the fellow, part Coy otero Apache, part Mexican, possibly a very small part white. who had some reputation as a medicine man with the tribes, but not much as anything else.
 Hartpole was sitting under his ramada on late summer afternoon, reading book whose covers curled up with the heat, when something came between him and his light, and, looking up, he saw the medicine man peering in the opening. He said: "Hullo, Ciego," and added: "What do you want, eh?"
 Ciego spoke excellent Spanish and, as Hartpole did, too he had no trouble about making himself understood. He explained that he would like to see the suit of iron clothes which he had been told that the lieutenant possessed. The lieutenant was so pleased to think that it had been spoken of even in the fastnesses of the Sierra Blanca and of the Tonto Basin that he forgot how dirty Ciego was, and straightway rose and invited him into the one room.
 The medicine-man stood looking at the armor with an interest and evil dent appreciation that touched Hart pole very much. After the manner of his kind, he said no word, but pres ently he went nearer and felt of the plates and chains with his fnger-tips, and put his good eye close and looked inside. Then he turned 10 Hartpole. Where did you find it?" he asked.
 The lieutenant explained at some length.
 'ls it very old?"
 Hartpole said it was at least three hundred and thirty odd years old, and went into little history.
 Ciego nodded his head. 'I know" he said. But that was so manifestly absurd that Hartpole did not pay any attention to it. Tt is very fne," said Ciego. For how much will you sell it to me?" Naturally. Hartpole only laughed, but the Apache was in earnest, hSNcItHeitSS. NO, He lHslSleu, LOOK ing him sharply in the face No, de veras, wish to buy it from you"
 "Well, don't wish to sell" answered the lieutenant, rather vexed at the mere idea.
 q have $500" said the Indian.
 "If you had a thousand you could not have it."
 "I have thousand"
 Hartpole laughed again, little inn patiently.
 You do not believe me--look here. !" Ciego drew a buckskin bag from the iolds of his sash. It was full of gold
 mere are $500 here. In three days I edh bring you $500 more."
 hartpole guessed how he come by it, ana hls temper rose. That is stolen money" he said, angrily; put it up Aou cant have the armor. Ukashee."
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