The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1901-08-08
The End of the
Feud at Nome.
By Lou Rodman Teeple.

HDOYS," said miner, elbowing his
- 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 low-statured Nor
wegian. "You Sec" red d-shirted Cali
fornian explained to newcomer,
"every claim Jack has staked out, or
went to stake, some one has set up q
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 so burned unlucky."
"Says he won't get of this cfdim II
Billy Mckinley wants it." This from
a slender half-breed from Idaho.
Shouldn't wonder if he did though.
for a fellow did stake that claim
more'n two months ago: he went to
the states after his family an never
come back; but 't,vould be just Jacks
luck II he turned up and raised a row.
I knew a man at Cripple Greek that"
But no ono ever heard. what the bar
tender knew Of that man, for the
sound Of strife drew the crowd in a
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 of each
time he tried to pass her, was 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 sixe BY her amszing quiekness
and the bewildering effect Of steady
stream Of threats and assertions. She
was NO other than Mrs. Brier, the
wife Of the man whs months before
had staked out that claim. She had
already set up. her own tent q few
yards from Lucky's, and now. sup
ported BY q small boy with snow
white hair and yellow dog with ono
blue eye, she was resolutely keeping
the miner "oH her claim"
You hard-faced old anticlsristi"
{shs probably meant anarchist);
you've no regard foy law or decency.
How we'll 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,
I'll keep You OIL"
'Dont you dodge ahead OF me
agin," the miner snarled, I'm agoln'
to my tent. ana YOU can 60 to-" He
didn't finish the sentence, but she
dd IL for him as she grabbed him BY
he collar and shook him as vigorously
as she was able while at the disadvan-
tsge Of standing on the tips Of her
toes TO reach his neck.
II can 60 to that place, can II" she
screamed. "Well, You can go there,
too. but you can't 60 to that tent Of
yours, Ssss'n you want to take It
down."
The cursed and harr{ed man jerked
his coat from her hands, and replied
savaSely, "Not much don't talee my
tent of this claim, but I'll tear yours
down before morning II you don't
lsmme lone"
"You will, will your As the
woman spoke she drew revolver
from her dress; and the miner, who
was accustomed TO seeing q gun used
in the same breath 1t 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 q
dead faint; the astonished man bend
ing over her dropped the gun on her
head, which probably hastened her
return TO consciousness; and while
she was getting upon her feet, he
took run for his tent. She picked
up the gun and sobbed out, "You
rust wait till Bill Brie1 gets here;
thnt'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 q sound that rose even
above the voice OF the wind that was
blowing q gale. Investigation showed
that the wind had blown down one
side of Mrs. Brier's tent, and she, with
her head buried under the blankets,
was screaming, "sick i'm, Bilger!
Sick I'm! Oh, you murderin', prowlin'
old villain, a-tearin' the shelter from
over the head Of sleepin' child!"
As the wind, even in Nome, was
supposed to be sent by the Almighty,
Mrs. Brier's address sounded rather
blasphemous- After the visitors had
succeeded in convincing her that her
tent was being yanked out Of place
by Providence instead OF Lucky Jack,
and after they had securely pegged
the canvas down for her. quiet settled
Tor the night over the Seudal district'