Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1901-07-11
The End of the
Feud at Nome.
By Lou Rodman Teeple.
nDOYs," said a miner, elbowing his

nQoYs," said a miner, elbowing his
ID way through the crowd in the
saloon: boys, Lucky Jacks took up
another claim" Peals of laughter
greeted this announcement.
Dis de seven claim him git on an
git off," giggled a low-statured Nor
wegian. You Sec" a red-shirted Cali
fornian explained to a newcomer,
every claim Jack has staked out, or
went to stake, some one has set up a
prior claim to; most OF 'em was hold
ing the ground for their friends, but
Jack was so good-natured he jest give
way: we call him Lucky Jack now
he's s o burned unlucky."
Says he won't get off this claim if
Billy Mckinley wants it." This from
a slender half-breed from Idaho.
shouldn't wonder if he did though,
for a fellow did stake hat claim
more'n two months ago; he went to
The states after his family an never
come back; but 'twould be just Jacks
luck if he turned up and raised a row
l knew a man at Cripple Creek that
But no one ever heard what the bar
tender knew of that man, for the
SOutiu VI SIIilC dIC" thC CiO"u III q
body to witness the beginning of the
feud at Nome.
Lucky Jack was making the dumb
stands and quick rushes of a pig that
Is trying to escape; he was evidently
trying to make the cover of his tent;
and before him, heading him off each
time he tried to pass her, was a little
brOwned-eyed, ~red-cheeked woman,
who. though short enough to have
stood under the big miners out
stretched arm, made up for the handi-
cap in size by her amazing q~uickness
and the bewilGering effect of a steady
stream of threats and assertions. She
was no other than Mrs. Brier, the
wife of the man who months before
had staked out hat claim. She had
already set up her own tent a few
yards from Lucky's, and now, sup
ported by n small boy with snow
white hair and a yellow dog with n
blue eye, She was resolutely keeping
the miner "off her claim"
You hard-faced old a~ntichrist!"
she probably meant a~narchist);
you've no regard for law or decency.
How well you waited till Bill Brier
was gone before you jumped his
claim. Oh won't he show you, when
he gets here? And till he does come,
III keen you Off"
Don't you dodge ahead of me
agin," the miner snarled, I'm agoin'
t my tent. and you can go to" He
didn't finish the sentence, but she
did it for him as she grabbed him by
the collar and shook him as vigorously
as she was able while at the disadvan-
tage Of standing on the tips of her
toes to reach his neck.
Il can go to that place, can ~" she
screamed. well, you a go there,
too, but you can't go to that tent of
yours, less'n you want to take it
down."
The cursed and harried man jerked
his coat from her hands, and replied
savagely. Not much 1 don't take my
tent off this claim. but I'll tear yours
down before morning if you don't
femme lone"
"You will. will you?' As the
woman spoke she drew a revolver
from her dress; and the miner, who
was accustomed to seeing a CUR used
in the same breath it was pulled,
seized her wrist and wrenched the
weapon from her grasp with no gen.
tie force. As he did so, the little
woman reeled and fell at his feet in a
dead faint: the astonished man bend
ing over her dropped the gun on her
head. which probably fastened her
return to consciousness; and while
b wa getting upon her feet, he
took a u for his tent. She picked
mn the gun and sobbed out, you
lust wait till Bill Brier gets here;
that's ALL" The while the white
haired boy wept dolefully, and the
yellow dog accelerated the speed of
the ~retreating foe by swapping his
heels at every step.
That night the slumbers and ca
rousers in the vicinity of the disputed
claim heard a sound that rose eve
above the voice of the wind that was
blowing a gale. Investigation showed
chat the wind had blown down n
side of Mrs. Brier's tent, and she, with
he, head buried under the blankets,
was screaming, "Sick i'm, bigger!
Sick i'm. Oh. you murderin', prowlin'
old villain. a-tearin' the shelter from
over the head of a sleepin' child!"
As the wind, even in Nome. was
supposed to be sent by the Almighty,
Mrs. Briefs address sounded rather
blasphemous. After the visitors had
succeeded in convincing her that her
tent was being yanked out of place
nv Providence instead OF Lucky Jack,
and after they lad securely pegged
the canvas down for her, quiet settled
for the night over the feudal district.
But morning saw the beginning OF
hostilities, that, with brief intermls-
sions. lasted for long, weary nth
Fruit can were hurled against
base of one tent at night and fired
against the other each morning. The
man purposely roared out songs