The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1903-12-12

he did not nk 0r1t Ge0 Boiandes re-
volver. and there was m unrestrained
cordin1ity IN tho "Hov!" with which
be greeted him. while the warmth of
Bolande's answer stroye with a paci-
flcatory uneasiness,
When finally the CLINT of Bolande's
dingy weapon struggled through the
smoke of the room to the marshal's
eye. he said quietly. that others might
not hear: Jesse. stick your gun be-
hind the bar TIL you're leaving town.
Can't let you tote your gun in this
mans town now"
city marshal and too little Of the friend
In his tone. but Bolande's look took
on hint Of rigor. aAd there was
twxng of defiance In his tone as he
tried to laugh out his Owning this
place now, are you. marshall"
There was too little subsility In Boz
lande's intonation to deceive the mar
shall in its portent. and he flung back
. sharp reply: ANY skin on You. II l
dol" -se
And Bolande Gained before the 9TH
er's frar.k resentment and Struggling
himself again murmured: Nope But
thar'll be some on the man that tries
to take my gun away"
Almost pleadingly the quiescert
marshal answered: Jesse, I'll give
you till Elk to put up your sun. or pull
your freight out OF this"
Still more unassumingsy, but still
more firmly, Bolande answered: "Ycr'E
find me right mere at six. Bring your
ncrvc with You, marshal Have a
drink"
Don't mind II do. Jesse. Here's
howl" and they drained the martyr
dom with unflinching gustc. Then the
marshal turned to leave. ard Bolapdc
sang nut, with no whit of banter in his
voice:
80 long. marshal! Six o'cloclss ,is
III" "
six. jesse" he answered. with. as
much OF tender appeal in his voice as
was possible in the throat made brass
with the raw western air. and heart
grown fliaty with years of concealed.
repressed. and thereby littlc-known
emotion. Better think it over.
Jesse"
Bolande only answered half anolo-
getically: I'm not heavy on the
think" and retrieved himself from
tenderness with a b:ant. "but I'll be
here. six, foot two In my socks" The
outer day had swallowed the mar
shall
The cynosure of all the eyes am
pushed behind heavy eyebrows and
low-brimmed hats was Bolande. who
was again at the bar. rigid and erect
as tower. One hand played a tat
too with his half-emptied glass. the
other lowered at the butt of his pis-
tol. He was stolid, alert. grim. deadly.
The whizz and boom OF the striking
clock startled everyone In the almost
noiseless room. The fights of from
tiersmen are generally the sudden
promrtings of an unforeseen rage For
NAL. punctual duello is rare. Even Bo-
lande was little nervous. and gulped
not infrequently stimulants to whet
his nerves and anger to the nicely of
a razor. With knowledge born of life
long experience. he hSd equally re-
Trained from drinking himself past the
best form.
The marshal evidently thought It
only right to give his old friend three
after the hour when his step was
heard on the board walk outside. His
lean. strong figure was clad In his best
broadcloth-he would fight like a gen.
tleEan. ready for grave or triumph.
That his ready-made suit was much too
loose hardly narred the untheatric
sublimity of his erect, stern. Stubborn,
Anglo-Saxon courage. In very mod
esty he pulled his broad briinmed hat
over tho panther blaze of his ruthless
glare.
When the marshal entered the sa-
loon, Bolande waited calmly for his
eyes to learn the censer twilight OF
the room. His hand drew a little
nearer his revolver. but forebore to
draw 1t or even clutch its handle.
As the marshal's searching loo.
made out Bolande's form. and hunting
further, found his pistol undethroned,
his teeth set hard upon the last plea
of friendship. and with perfectly
level voice he said. inquisItorially
calm: you're still here. see"
I'm here" came an answer of equal
phlegm.
And though there was cry Of irony
in his voice, yet 1t was quiet. as the
marshal declared war thus: "Then, by
God, look out for YOURSELF"
With epic equality and speed the
weapons lcaped into position. The
spectators, knowing no shots would be
wasted. kept only from the immediate
neighborhood of the fight. Two semi
circles OF faint glamour marked the
path Of the revolvers as they flashed
from hip to aim. A splitting of quick
fre--two sharp sriacks Of noise. SO
twined that neither eye nor ear could
name the earlier, and the rcvolvers
had spoken. Neither in vain.
Bolande fought with his arm swing
ing free, his whole body exposed. The
marshnl's first bullet hit him in the
depth of his chest and whirled him
completely around. The next shot
s.--x 49, Ii .,~~~o.,u<yoa ot<,~ 80