The Savannah morning news., 1903-06-06


a better chane, on'y just nachully
don't like t stand L git sieved up a
hull heap by boys full O. cactus medi-
cine FIR tn wages I'm gittin', an that's
a fac
That looked like pretty foxy start
for Nick, and it began TO dawn on us
how he intended to go about the bust
ness of preserving law and order dur
ing the daylight hours in Tombstone
bunked in a lonesome dobe amid the
depressing aroma of drugs, lotions,
ointments and unguents.
About ten days after Mcdowell had
been tucked away as Nicks No. in his
new Official capacity, Jack Bradley, a
long-haul freighter from Cochise coun-
ty and a middling dangerous mule
quarter when he got a good hefty car
go of the cochineal fluid slowed beneath
his surcingle. Hoped into Tombstone
from Tucson with leftover. Taking
up good position on a little sand
mound at the head of the street he no.
titled all hands within hearing of his
voice that from that moment he had
assumed the reins of government in
Tombstone and the environs thereof.
Then. to sort of emphasize his remarks,
Jack planted a ball between the eyes
of an unfortunate little overworked
NildS WAS COAhiL5 up tAlC lOcid. II
was a forty-yard shot and showed that
Bradley's prolonged ia, hadn't filmed
his shooting eye any. The burro
jumped clear of the ground with all
four feet, came down on its side, and
passed. it up without a struggle.
Then Jack descended from the
mound and strolled to Ramon Fernan-
dez's rum joint, where he announced
he would establish his headquarters as
the plenty chief of the camp. Jack
numbered around the half-breed Ra-
mons plant for an hour or so, intimi-
dating men who didn't care to go up
against his strong gun game, and an
nouncing that along toward noon he
reckoned he'd lunch on some marshal
meat-he cafclated that after he'd bit
an arm or two offn the red-headed,
hammered-down coyote that thought
he was keepin' cases on the camp he
wouldn't be hungry no more till even
in
Jack was still delivering himself of
these Nominations the man real
ly was almost as bad and dangerous
as he pretended to be-when he sud
denly broke off. His attention, and the
attention of everybody in the place,
was attracted by a sound that had
never before been heard in Tombstone.
1t was the music of a hand organ, and
the hand organ was being played right
in front of Ramon's place.
Jack Bradley was the first man to
reach the swinging green shutters to
get look at the hand organ and the
player of the same. He had just got
outside the green shutters when the
droning of Silver Threads Among the
Gold suddenly ceased right in the mid
die of the tune.
The player of the hand organ was
leaning on the contraption to balance
it on its supporting stick, and he had
a straight bead with both guns on the
upper works of Bradley's massive
frame.
"'You can call Heaven t. witness
with both o. them tamale handlers O.
your'n jack said the day marshal who
had been providing the music that
sounded so strange in the ears of the
Tombstoners. Tn a few of a Alcalde
in this yere camp myself. 'twixt sun
up an shutdown. an -
Mick didn't finish that, because
Bradley, with the unwisdom of a man
who has much dead alcohol floating
around in his nervy cells, instead of
poking his hands up, as he had been
courteously directed to, went after
both of his guns-Jack was over-proud
of his quicSness on the draw.
Mick broke both of Jacks fore
arms as Bradley was in the act of
getting his guns out. They had to take
down one of Ramon's green shutters,
and four of the boys toted Jack down
the street to the office of the young
man with the probe.
Things moved along in pretty easy
groove for Nick for quite some time
after this, until one day Walt May
hew, the foreman of bunch of shafts
to the south of the camp, got letter
from one of his Eastern wives that
touched him on the raw. Walt jumped
the reservation, so to speak, over the
receipt of that letter, and Walt was
sure-enough helyon when he got busy
with the dreanings of the coils.
Two hours after he'd come in from
the claims and descended on the camp
he was jumping on his hat in the mid
die of the street, with both guns out
and yelling that the flock of grizzlies
that had the nerve to tackle him would
have to have their claws ground to a
razor edge with alligator files, and
that even then he would tear their
teeth out of their jaws with his naked
hands.
+ Then Walt constituted himself a
sort of a battery of light artillery
parked at the head of the street. for
he took up his position on the sand
mound from which Jack Bradley had
proclaimed himself the heap-Navajo.
and swept the thoroughfare with both
OF his guns every time he saw a care
less or unsuspecting man emerge from
GROCERY.
Walt had kept the street deserted
for about half an hour from his coign
OF vantage on the mound, and he was
informing the baking breeze that was
blowing that he, Walter Mayhem, ESQ,
was gray desert wolf that preferred
to lap strongly impregnated alkali wa
ter to slipping the cool, sweet product
of the freshest springs-when a pair
of knobbed and freckled hands holding
couple of steel blue guns and a cow
licky red head, all belonging to a man
lying close to the edge of the roof
of the Morning Star honkatonk-Nick
had got into the place from the rear
and climbed to the roof-were seen
by some of us sitting in the barber
shop across the street. We we're wait
ing for Walt to go away from that
mound before venturing out onto the
street."
''Nick's position, lying fiat there on
the roof and overlooking Waits
mound, was pretty good and secure
one.
g oh, Waltz Nick called down soft
ly to the painting MayheW