Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-04-25
A BAD MANS FINISH

i've met up with lot of bad men. some
of whose annals have kept the scrihesmen OF
the western states busy, but the hardest
man that I ever saw was a grnb-s,take
fellow I met up with about a dozen times
while was assigned to the Navajoe and
Moqul tribes said an inspector of Indian
agencies. HE lived in Tuscon when he
wasn't up in the Santa Anita mountains
looking for pay dust, and for several years
he was the chief contributor of inert sub
jects to that little white cemetery thai
lies to the west of the town, more or less
covered with yellow sand. His name was
Jim Crandall. Jim was six feet six inches
in stature, and he weighed $50 pounds
Every pound that be had ON him was beal
meat-that is to say. his life in the noun.
tains. after the quartz, kept him down Il
the minute.
to show off. / suppose there was not g
man in the southwest that could have
COPIED with him in strafghtout match Oh
strength, but he always leaned to the
Bowie and the gun in close quarters sc
that none of his victims ever had a chance
to feel the clasp of his gorilla arms.
Sober. Jim was as mild man as evel
slit an oesophagus, but when he got about
four rounds of juniper juice in him he was
a worse terror than desert mirage tt
the sand Indians. Before l met him NJ
had slaughtered seven men, five OF them II
straight gun fights and two In knife plays
and he had always contrived to duck the Ia
and make a getaway on the ground OF self.
defense, which is certainly main grounc
down in the southwest territories.
ITS a thing don't like to mention, but
I happened to be with Crandall on the night
he made his lose-out. He had just got back
from old Mexico where he had been doing
a dodge-out for a year after killing Buck
Evans, the marshal of Tucson, and at the
supper hour that met him he was In sew
eral fashions dangerous. But he had &C
quired habit in previous meetings OF lean
ing upon me-a reed to lean upon-and so
didn't care how he acted so long as he Kept
within the bounds of reason.
I'VE went to Chink feed outfit and orr
dered stack of birds nests-which used
to mean in the southwest steak smothered
in onions and French fried potatoes-and !
addressed myself to the task of trying to
clip some of the feathers Off of Jim's para
dise-bird stories of the Santa Anita noun
taina
II was just telling Crandall that he was
rough and uncouth and that he wore too
many guns on his person to suit my city
fed, civilized game, when Jim-the mes
quite juice that he had taken dragging
along inside Of him-looked up.
!" Jimmy he said to me. I've got a big
kill on, and I hate Chinks.' and just then
the two assistants of the Chinese proprietor
of the restaurant walked in, slidingly, with
their soft sandals.
let 'em CO.. said to crandall when
saw him going for his guns. They're only
parasites, and what do you carer
This much said Jim, just as the two
soft-footed Cinnamon were passing into the
kitchen.
He pulled both Of his guns out. and
bawled Stand still! to the two Cinnamon.
They both came to halt right abaft the
kitchen.
You likee die?' said Crandall then to
the two Chinese. and, without a further
word, he plugged both Of them through the
heart.
THE Tucson vigilance outfit got Jim
most horrible fight for his life that I ever
witnessed. But San Francisco doctor has
got Jim's bones nova doctor with whom
1 am on terms-and every time that I go
out to the Gate he gives me a peek at
Crandalrs dried skull and says, Aren't you
glad you are goOd?