Las Vegas daily optic. [volume] (Las Vegas, N.M.) 1880-1908, 1904-10-06
Al The Foot
OF the Trail
(By Irwin Bare.)

of II OF the fertile valleys in the
southern part Of Colorado. He had
come from the east a tenderfoot but
in n short time had mastered the du-
ties Of an ordinary ~cow-puncher. He
took no part in cowboy activities, but
the rough cattlemen saw that a great
sadness lurked behind his slow quiet
ways and his polite demeanor. He
gave them no clew and they had ask.
ed for none
The only thing that linked him to
the past, they knew he was trying
to forget was his lonely cabin, 1t had
been built at the foot Of the trail that
crossed he mountains to the few
scattered homes Of the cowpuncher
beyond. Eastward from his little home
wound the road to Millward Junction
where the trains departed for the
east. He could see the grim black
smoke as it rose in circles above the
trees.
Here in front Of his cabin he would
spend the last few hours Of the day.
When the rays of light disappeared
behind the mountains in the west he
rose from his seat and retired for
the night. But his work was per-
formed in a satisfactory manner and
he had long been given up as a sub
ject for conversation by both cowboys
and miners.
This evening he had been sitting In
front of his cabin longer than usual.
He was thinking. 1t had happened
so long ago yet it was clear in
his mind as though it had occurred
but yesterday. How bitter he felt!
He knew that he had made a mistake.
But 1t had been SO hard to lose her.
After their quarrel he knew that he
she had married his rival he sacked
his few belongings and started west
to forget. But now as he sat there
he felt sorry. He wanted to return
and begin anew. In a moment his
mind had been made up. He would
take the few hundred dollars that he
had saved up and leave for the east
on the morrow, He climbed the
trail to Benton, the mining town, to
make a few purchases. On the way
back he dropped into the Golden
Eagle" to watch the game. His en-
trance was unnoticed. All were in
terested in a game that was going on
in one corner of the room. 1t was
poker and the table seated fc +.
heard the rattle of chips and after a
moment of silence one of the men
spoke:
Boys" he said, its my last"
The lone figure in the background
had edged closer to the shadows of
the wall.
Charley" he gasped. Again he
heard the rattle Of chips and then
that voice, this time scarcely above
a whisper.
ITS all gone now. Good bye"
Then after a moment, Boys, I'm go
ing to tell you a story"
They bent forward eagerly to listen
to the man who had half risen from
the table. They knew him only as
poker Bill" Time after time he had
played. but the luck seemed always
against him.
No n paid any attention to the
pale figure that leaned against the
wall of the saloon, its outstretched
arms half lost in the darkness.
Boys" he continued, 1--WE killed
a man in my time. That's why I'm
here. But III have to 60 back now.
l can't stand it any longer. I've a
wife and baby boy in the east and it's
hell to go back to them-they think
I'm dead"
He was a young man but one whom
the poker fever had wrinkled and
made careworn.
He started to the door. On the
threshold he paused.
Boys, try and think of me some
times,-sometimes when the fever is
on and you want to quit
The next day Tilghman did not go
to work as usual. He remained at
the cabin. He was waiting. He knew
that Charley would have to pass on
his way to Millward.
He knew hat he must prevent this
man from returning home, for during
the night the old love had been kin
died anew. That the man would not
recognize him he was certain, for
the changes in the past two years
had been wonderful. Then again
there was that scar from ear to ear
that he had received at the hands of
CiIyar Tho a year before, He was al |