Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1901-06-14
A CHANCE SHOT.
BY H. w. PHILLIPS.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV
d EDDY and I were alone at the
II lake beds. He sat outside the
cabin braiding a leather hat band
eight strands and the repeat" fig
ure-an art that never could master.
I sat inside, with one-pound
package of "Bull Durham" tobacco
beside me, and newspapers within
reach, rolling the days supply of
cigarettes.
Reddy stopped his story long
enough to say: "Don't use the Mis-
souri, Coyote Hd-that paper burns
my tongue = take the Pioneer
there's plenty Of it," Well, as was
saying, I'd met a lot of the boys up
in town this day, and they threw as
many as two drinks into me; know
that for certain, because when we
took the parting dose had glass of
whisky in each hand, and had just
twice as many friends as when I
started.
When pulled out for home felt
mighty good for myself-not exactly
looking for trouble: but not a-going
to dodge it any, either. I was war
bling "Idaho'' for all I was worth
you know how pretty I can sing.
Cock-eyed Peterson used to say it
made him forget all his troubles.
Because" says he, 'you don't notice
it when a man bats you over the head
with two-by-four."
Well, was enjoying everything in
sight, even a little drizzle of rain
that was driving by in rags of wet
ness, when flat-faced swatty at Fort
johnson halted me.
Now, it's a dreadful thing to be
butted to death by nanny goat, but
for a full-sized cow puncher to be
held up by soldier is worse yet.
To say that I was hot under the
collar don't give you the right idea of
the way felt.
why, you cross between the last
rose of summer and a bob-tailed
flush!" says I, "What dyer mean?
What's got into you? Get out of my
daylight, you dog robber, or I'll walk
the little horse around your neck like
a three-ringed circus-come, get a
move, and pull your freight"
1t seemed that this swauty had been
chucked out of the third story of
Frenchy's dance emporium by Bronc.
Thompson, which threw a great re-
spect for our profesh into him. Con-
sequently he wasn't fresh like most
soldiers, but answers me as polite as
a tin-horn gambler on pay day.
Says he: 81 just wanted to tell
you that old Frosthead and 40 braves
are some'ers between here and your
outfit, with their war paint on, and
blood in their eyes, cayoodling and
whoopin' fit to beat the band, and if
you get tangled up with them reckon
they'll give you a haircut and sham
poo, to say nothing of other trim
mings. They say they're after the
crows, but it's a $40 bill against a
last year. birds nest that they'll take
on any kind of trouble that comes
along. Their hearts is mighty bad,
they state, and when an Injun's heart
gets spoiled, the disease is infectious
you'd better stop awhile"
'Now, cuss old Frosthead and you,
tool" says I. eff he comes cow-hop-
ping on my reservation, I'll kick his
pantaIettes on top of his scalp-lock.''
"All right, pardner!" says he. cts
your own funeral. My orders was to
halt everyone going through; but I
amt whole company, so you can
have it your way. Only, if your
friends have to take you home in a
coal-scuttle, don't blame me. Pass,
friendi"
So I went through the officers
quarters 40 miles an hour, letting out
a string of yells you might have heard
to the coast. just to show my respect
for the United States army.
Now this has always been my luck:
Whenever I make band wagon play,
somebody's sure to strike me for my
license. Or else the team goes into
the ditch mile further on, and I
come out about as happy as a small
yaller dog at a bobcats caucus.
Some fellers can run in a shiny ca
boo that 'ud make the hair stand up
on buffeler robe, and get away with
it just like mice; but that amt me.
If sing little mite too high in the
cellar, down comes the roof atop of
me. So it was this day. Old Johnny
Hardluck socked 1t to me, same as
usual