The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1902-01-05

the same bein' "a rocky as Red Dog whisky
an as rough as the life story of n mule.
Which Stanton, BloojaCket an them others
makes her In twelve hours even. an comes
up. a plaster Of dust an sweat. to the Red
Cloud Agency at midnight sharp. Them
Chcyennes is already gone eight hours over
the Great Northern trail.
stanton. who's a big body OF a man. an
nacherally some road-weary, writes a letter
on the agency steps by the light of a lam
tern. He tells Merritt to push on to the
War Bonnet an he'll head them Cheyennes
off a whole lot. Then he sends the Red
Cloud Interpreter an four local Injuns with
lead bosses to pack this yere missif back
to Merritt, who's camped waitin' at the
Raw Hide Buttes. This Bloojacket. for all
he's done a hundred miles already. de-
Glars himself In on this second excursion
to show said Interpreter the way.
"'But you-all won't last through saws
Stanton where he sets on them steps Guaff-
in whisky an invig-ratin' himself.
Which If I don't I'll turn squaw.' says
Rloojacket. an gettin' fresh bosses with the
others. he goes sailin' off into the midnight
"Son. them savages. havin' lead bosses.
that away, rides In on Merritt by fifth
time-say, 'leven o'clock that mornin'; 100
miles in 'leven hours: BlooJacket some wan
an weary for a savage. a-leadin' up the
dance. Mighty fair ridin' that boy Bloc
Jacket does! Two hundred miles in twenty
one hours, over a clost country amt bad!
Which It's me who says so: an I shorely.
one time an another, shoves plenty 81
scenery onder the hoofs OF a cayouse
myself.
About them foogitif Cheyennes? oh,
Merritt moves up TO the War Bonnet. like
Stanton suggests. corrals 'em. kills all their
ponies, an drives 'em back to the agency
on foot. Thar's nothin' so lets the whey
outen a hOss-baCk Injun like putin him
a-foot that away: an them Cheyennes set
ties down in gloom an peace immediate.
while this we're Hardrobe an his son
RlooJacket is with me. I'm impressed par
tic'lar by the love they bars each other.
Which their affections that AWAY would do
credit TO whites: l shore never does cut the
trail of a father an, son who jest simply
gives themse'fs up to one another like this
we're Hardrnbe an his Rlooiacket son. /
can see an turn my head The other way.
that BloojaCket Regards that old Hardrohe
parent of his like he's the Moth star; an
as for Hardrobe himself he can't keep his
eyes off that child Of his. You'd have his
life long before he'd let you touch a braid
of Bloojacket's long hair. Both of ems
plumb handsome for Iniuns; tall an slim
am quick as coyotes, with hands an feet
like all them Usage bucks as little as a
woman's Which. of course, l don't so pryin'
round this Hardrobe's private affairs-sav-
! ages is plumb sensitif of sech matters-but
all the same l learns Incidental. that Hard
robe is plenty rich for a lnjun-rich even
for Osages. an they're as l tells you yere-
tofore, the most opulent savages which ever
makes a trial or paints their faces. Later,
l finds out that Hardrobe's squaw-Bloo-
Jackets mother-is dead.
See thar says this Hardrobe one day.
We're In the southern fringe of the Usage
| country. on Grayhoss Creek at the time.
an he p'ints to a heap Of stones piled up
like 4 oven an chimley. the same bein'
about four feet high. I saveys, nacherallY,