Barre evening telegram. (Barre, Vt.) 1898-19??, 1900-05-07
Bill put up his gun and went back to the

l
never tired of badgering the timid cook
Kid avoided him as much as possible
but could not escape him at meal times
when would pour from him n perfect
torrent of abuse. Watching Kid al
these times I would see that his eyes
usually soft and shy, would fairly blaze
with venomous hatred, and knowing
something of Mexican nature. and how
handy they are with knife, came ia
the conclusion that if I were in Bills
place, would do one of two things:
apologize to the Kid and let him alone
or-kill him. I thought of speaking to
Bill about it, but meddling in another
mans row was unhealthy business in
those days, SO ! ended by keeping ST.
lent.
Kid did not disappoint me. One
night, as sat reading in my tent, there
came from the outside sharp exclama-
ton that was followed Immediately by
the sounds of a struggle, then pierre
ing scream, and heard Enthusiastically
in Bills voice: "Yer miserable, sneak
in little kyote! Put err knife in me in
tn dark, would yer? Wall, Ireclsin not!
An now I'll just give you err taste of it,
my little snake-in-th'-g grass"
Grabbing up my gun, knowing that
nothing short of that would have any
weight with Bill r hurriedly threw
open my tent, and, the bright light of
my lamp flashing out, I saw Kid fiat on
his back with Bill kneeling on his chest,
one hand gripping the boys throat.
and the other graspng knife. appraised
to strike. In Kids face there was a
look of horror that will remember as
long as l live. The sudden food of
light caused Bill to pause, and then his
arm sank slowly to his side, the knife
slipping from his hand. "Wal1," he
calculated, and letting go of Kids
+ throat he stood up. could see nothing
to justify such a change in his attitude
and was amazed to see him now reach
down and take Kids hand.
cit up" he said, gruffly; 4" amt err
goin' ter hurt yer-never would
teched yer eff I'd knowed what know
now, an I'm sorry done it," He helped
Kid to his feet and went on: Snow go
back to yer tent; amt a-goin' ter blow
on yer, an won't bullyrag yer no more
-sabe? I'll keep the knife, though,
SOS yer won't git inter no more mis-
chief with it,"
KID made no answer, and could not
see his face, but 1 did see his hands
suddenly clinch as he went away into
the darkness. Having watched him
out of sight; Bill walked off without
even glance in my direction. l was
greatly puzzled by what had occurred
and my curiosity being reused, | de-
termined to find Bill the next morning |
and get him to tell me what it was that
had caused his sudden change toward
Kid; but that day was Sunday, and he
left the camp at daybreak on an ante.
lope hunt, so did not see him. Turn
ing the affair over in .my mind that
morning, I came to the conclusion that I
Bills heart was too large for his judy
ment, and that Kid would yet avenge
himself; and was not wrong, though
he did it in way that could not have
expected.
Our camp was pitched on low hill
that rose island-like in the midst of
a grassy valley. On the west side this
valley ,roe bounded by q lansr OF
rugged mountains that came down to
within mile of the camp, and on the
east by chain of high hills; to the
north and south, where the railroad
came in and went out, the grassy level
stretched away farther than the eye
could reach. TO economic in feed it
was the custom to pasture the mules
in this valley whenever they were not
at work, on Sundays and at night, and
they went out as usual on the clay
following Kids attempt to knife Bill,
though not under charge of the night
herder, he and the old gray mare hav-
ing to remainin camp to rest and sleep.
When the gong sounded for supper,
about an hour before sunset, the herd
was in plain view from camp and not
over half a mile away, so the herder
galloped in to his supper, leaving them
until the night herder
should go out and take them.
AS we were in the Apache country,
it was very foolish thing for him
to do. He had scarcely unsaddled his
horse and gone into the grub-tent,
when shrill yells and whoops, mingled
with the thunder of pounding hoofs
coming from the valley brought every
man running out. Watching their op.
portunity from their lurking place in
the mountains, band of half-naked
Apaches had slipped into the herd,
and running about among the mules,
lashing and striking, were trying to
stampede them. They would have sue.
,eeded, mules being MORALLY afraid
Of Indians, but that the night herder,
to go on duty, had brought
he old gray mare to the grub-tent
to wait while he ate his supper, where
she stood in plain sight from the val
ey. The mules were running away {
southwark when the leading ones spied l
Ter, and, making a wide detour to avoid l
he Apaches who were galloping as
asst as their legs could carry them, {
he entire herd came galloping in. a
Yelling with rage and disappoint. 1
nent, the Apaches turned to go back q
% the mountains, when white man q
ode out from the mountains before i
hem and started across the valley to. t
yard camp. By his horse, which we i
ecognized, we knew him to be Bill d
smith. The Apaches opened fire the Il
moment they saw him, and, changing u
lis course so as to avoid them, he as Q
spurred his horse into gal.
op, and we thought he had got safe i
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