Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1900-12-22
PART III.
OH pTER I

tances betWeen glowed more creully
than ever, and pedestrians, keeping in
the scant shade, hesitated on the curb
stone before plur ging into the Sahara
like waste of crossings. The city SEEM
ed deserted. Even that vast army OF
contractors, Spectators, p~lace-hunters
and lobbyists, which hung on the heels
" the other army, and had turned this
pacific camp of the nation into n bat
tletield of ignoble conflict and conten-
tion-more disastrous than the one to
the Southland skunk into their holes
in hotel back bedrooms in shady bar
rooms, or in the l.egro quarters OF
Georgetown, as if the majestic, white
robed goddess, enthronei upon the
dome OF the capitol, had at last de-
seconded among them. and was shifting
TO right and left with the Hat and
flash Of her insufferable sword.
Into this sitting atmosphere of greed
and corruption Clarence Brant stepped
from the shadow OF the wal depart
ment. Fol- the last three weeks he had
haunted its anterooms and audience
chambers, in the vain hope of rightinG
himself before his superiors, who were
content, without formulating charges
against him, to keep him in this dis
grace of inaction and the anxiety of
suspense. Unable to ascertain the de-
tails of the accusation, and conscious
of his own secret, he was debarred the
last resort OF demanding a Court-mar-
tial, which he knew could only eXoner-
ate him by the exposure OF the guilt
OF his wife, whom he still hoped had
safely escaped. His division commend
er, In active operations i'm the field, mad
no time to help him at Washington.
ElboWed aside by greedy ctors,
forestalled by selfish politicians and
d~isdaining the ordinary method of in
l%iuence, he had M friend to turn to. In
his few years of campaigning he had
lost his instinct of diplomcy without
acquiring a soldiers b%luntness.
The nearly level rays of the sun fore
ed him at last to turn aside into one of
the openings Of a large building-a ia
nous c~aravansary of that hotel-haunt-
ed capltal-and he presently found
hlmSelf In the luxurious barroom, fra
gram with mint and cool with Ice
slabs, piled symmetrically on it's mar
bic counters. A few groups OF men
were seeking GOODNESS at the small ta-
bles, with glasses before them and
palm-leaf fans in their hands, but a
larger noisier assemblage was col
lected before the bar, where a man,
collarless and in his shirt sleeves, with
his back to the counter, was preten-
tlously addressing them. Brant, who
had moodily dropped into a chair in the
corner, after ordering a cooling drink
as an excuse for his temporary refuge
from he sitting street, half regretted
his enforced participation In their con.
VITALITY. But n sudden lowering OF
the speakers voice into n note O,
gloomy significance, seemed familiar tC
him.. He glanced at him quickly, from
the shadow Of his corner. He was no
m~iStaken-it was Jim Hooker.
For the first time i'm his life, Bran.
wished to eVade him.. In the DAYS O
his prosperity his heart had al.
ways gone out towards this old com
panion of his boyhood; in his presen
humiliation his presence Jared upol
him. He would n slipped away
but to do so he would have had to pas!
before the counter again, and Hooker
with the self-consciousness of q stor,
teller, had an eye on his audience
Brant, with n palm leaf fan before hi
face, was obliged to listen.
Yes, gentlemen said Hooker, OK
aiming his glass dramatically, "whel
n mans been cooped up in "A rebe
prison, with a death line before hin
that he's obliged TO cross every tim
he wants q square drink, 1T seems sor
of like a dream of his boyhood to b,
standin' here comf'ble before hi
liquor, alongside o. White men one,
more. And hen he knows he's bin pu
to all that trouble jest to save the rep
utatlon or another nan and the sc
crets Of a few high and mighty ones
it's almost enough TO make his liquo
go agin HIM" He stopped theatrical
~, seemed to choke em~otionally owe
his brandy smash, but with a pause O
dramatic determination finally dashc,
1t down. mo, gentlemen" he contin
used, gloomily, II don't say what In
back in Washington for-I don't sa,
what I've bin sayin' to myself whel
I've bin picking the weevels outer m,
biscuits in Libby priSon-but cf yoI
don't see some pretty big men in tn
war department obliged to climb dow
In the next few days my name ain
jim Hooker, Of Hooker, Meecham
Co., army beef contractors, and tn
man who saved the fight at Ora,
Oaks"
The smile of satisfaction that wen
around his audience-an audienc
quick to seize the weakness Of any per
formance-might have startled a van
ity less obliviouS than Hooker's, bu
1t only aroused Brant's indignation an
pity, and made his position still NOR
in~tolerable. But Hooker, scornfully ex
p~ectorating n thin stream of Tobacco
juice against the spittOon, rename
for an instant gloomily silent.
Tell us bou the fight again. sal
a smiling auditor.
Hooker looked around the room wit
a certain dark su~spiciousness, an
her in an affected lower voice, whic
his theatrical experience made perfect
ly audible, went on: ut amt muc
to speak of, and if 1t wasn't for tn
principle of the thing i wouldn't b
talkin'. A man who's seen Injin fight
in don't go much on this here Yves
Point fightin' by rule-of-three-bu
that amt here or there. Well, I'd bi
out a-scoutin'-just to help the boy
along, and / was sittin' in my WACO
about daybreak, when along comes
brigadier general, and he looks int
the wagon flap. | orgAter to tell yo
first, gentlemen, that every mint h
was expectin' an a~ttack-but he didn
let on a hint of it to me. How al
you, Jim?' says he. How are yo,
general?' says /. Would you min
lending me your coat and hat?' say
he. I've got a little game here wit
my pickets, and / don't want to be rec
ognized.' Anything to oblige, ger
eral,' says I, and with that / strips o
my coat and hat, and he peels and put
them on. Nearly the same hgur,
jim he says, lookin' at me. 'Suppos
you just try on my things and Sc
With that ne hands me his coat--fu
uniform, by God-with the little gol
cords and laces and the epaulets wit
a star, and I puts it on-quite innocer
like. And then he says, handin' m
his sword and belt: Same inche
round the waist, too. You may as we
keep 'em on till / come back, says h,
for it's mighty damp and malarious
this time around the swamp An
with that he lights out. Well, gentle
men, 1 hadn't sat there five minute
before bang! bang! rattlel rattle! kei
shiz! and 1 hear a yell. / steps out {