Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1903-01-02
ROCKVILLE MARYLAND. FRIDAY MORNING, JANUARY 2 1903
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.
-. BY C. N. sTEvANs
Copyright, 1901, by A. s. Richardson

In Topeka during the trial of Bill Covil
when a boy brought him telegram.
He read 1t thoughtfully and then beck
Oned to Jim Thraile
| When Thralle came up. the marshal
gave him the message, which read:
Casper Flugel in camp with seven
men, not friends, at Willow Springs.
near Guadaloupe peak"
'"rhraile" said the marshal. you're
the man to take him In. 1t will be an
easy five hundred for you"
| Casper Flugel was n big German iron
molder, wanted In Pittsburg for the
murder of a companion. His first years
career In the territory had 80 added to
his crimes that his description was
! well known to all the deputy marshals.
Jim Thraile accepted his task, and In
due time he rode into the camp at VIII
low Springs, playing the role Of fugi-
| tive from justice. Since all renegades
regard II as their prime duty to protect
any one threatened with arrest his first
task consisted of getting the man he
wanted away from the company. He
soon found that this could not be done,
because the iron molder would not I'M
der any circumstances go ten feet out
Of camp unless accompanied by several
| OF the men
Flugel was thoroughly disliked He
did not know how to be companionable
to the other renegades. He lacked their
style of courage. His silent, sullen ma
ture was decidedly dIstastefu and It
was apparent that they would gladly
be rid of him. As Flugel could not be
persuaded to leave the company, and
| as Thraie knew how to be popular
with the men, the latter decided that
the quickest way to get his man was to
pick quarrel with him and have him
driven from the camp as an uncongen-
ia character. But Casper Flugel would
not quarrel. He stoically took all abuse
without any sign Of resentment further
than a revengeful look out Of his
heavy, brutal eyes. II was n dangerous
game, since even the renegades might
become suspicious. Suspicion was some
times rs bad as conviction.
Say, partner" said one Of them,
"Dutchy thinks you are a marshal and
notion to fire you both"
Jim Thraile laughed good naturally.
"hve got out OF n good many worse
places than this where | wasn't want
ed" he answered. when do GOT"
ooh, guess you're all right" was
the reply, but Dutchy's afraid, and he
wants us TO promise that you. don't get
out of camp until he's had at least "a
days start"
That's dead easy" answered Thraile
Tell Dutchy to git at once. He's no.
body's pard Let him 60"
Casper Flugel rode away at noon
with a grunt that was meant to be a
friendly farewell, but his late compan-
Ions took no notice of him except to OK.
claim, Good riddancep Thralle no
ticed, however, that the rustlers kept a
close watch on him all day. That night
he slipped out of camp, mounted his
horse and rode away.
He had no difficulty next morning In
finding Casper FlugePs trail To his
astonlshmpnt II led straight northeast
to the Pecos river Thrnile thought
that nothing but the Ignorance Of the
Iron molder could lead him to take the
chances Of making his way across the
Great Staked plain. The man hunter
knew that 1t was fully three days
Journey to the PecOs river during
which time not drop Of water could
be found Then, possibly, even the
Pecos river would be dry as sand hill.
The hunter filed his two rubber air
pillows with water and stuck like a fox
hound to the trail OF the fugitive lead
Ing into the great oven of the plains.
As the dry progressed scorching and
oppressive yapOr made II Impossible
for him to see any object beyond few
yards. SparIngiy he doled out the wa
ter to himself aud horse. Most Of the
time he held bulbs of the sand cactus
IN his mouth an preventive OF thirst,
and he fed them literally to his horse.
The night was inexpresslbly silent.
Neither whir Of insect nor howl OF
coyote came to break the m0nOtOny OF
the weary hours.
AT the end Of the second day his wa
ter supply was exhausted. and nothing
remained but u handful Of coffee ana u
small bag of bran. Not spear or
grass was to be found, and NJ the
horse struggled along after his master
through the deep white sand he groaned
with almost human reprOachfulness.
When the sun arose on the third day,
It appeared like redhot stove lid that
had been showed up above the horizon
In the night.
The trail was less than an hour old
when the exhausted pursuer reached
the banks Of the Pecos river. He found
the bed Of the stream AZ dry ns the
shores. Thralle unsaddled his horse
and helped the poor creature gather
the sparsely growing blades Of soft
salt grass. At spot In the bed OF the
river where this grass was usually
| thrifty he spent an hour digging with
his hunting knife and was rewarded
| with enough water 10 qnench their
| thirst and to I'LL one Of his rubber bhgs.
The next morning he started again
on the trail walking all the time to
save bis horse In the course Of a few
miles he came to the worst 0f the des
ert Here was great sea Of soft white
sand, into which the horse at every
| step sank to his fetlockB ana the man
| to his ankles. The horse could not en-
dure this unceasing struggle, and soon
after noon be sank down. To save him
from the torture TO follow the master
shot him and then trudged on, con.
WINGED that he was almost In sight Of
the iron molder.
II was now evident that Casper Flu
gel had been better equipped for his
task than bis pursuer. he had been
told that no one could follow him
across the Staked plain. Thraile drank
the last drop Of water from the rubber
bag and with indomitable will strug-
gled on A little later an object doomed
up IN the trail before him. II was Cas-
per Flugel, seated ON the body Of his
dead horse.
The sight Of human being In that
dreadful region caused the man hunter
| IN pfve a ahaut of low. He forgot his