Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1904-08-13
JlM'S FETCHING WAY

day marshal's beat in Durango, Colorado,
and Aiken held down the billet, at that.
VIXEN an ombreys life In Durango wasn't
held to be worth much more than buzz
card tamale or a pan of frijoles." said the
tcLsle-haired man with the desert blea ched
mustache. at one of those hotels on the
lower avenue where summer night CONVEX
saziones are held out in front with all
hands in ip-tilted chairs and their feet
against tree boxes.
Aiken monsooned into Durango about
six months after the boom began, and he
succeeded Tim Naylor as day marshal OF
the camp-Tim had been SO minced up in a
knife fight with two half-breed gfla eaters
that he had to be hiked up to Colorado
Springs to win back his strength.
NAT was a taciturn, unassuming sawed
off, He had cowlicky auburn hair and d
pair of topaz eyes, like mountain cat $.
that seemed to grow darker and to spit
sparks when he was getting busy.
reckon hain't a-goin' t git shot up
none whilst dom this yere camp work
Nat had remarked in accepting the day
marshafS job. L sure can't see no fun In
this thing o. layin' abed with hull lot o
zig-zag holes in y'r system. l sure can't
fannin' ombrey in this camp stick me up
an poke lead into my frame. just mach
ully like t. be swingin' along on tn soles
O. my boots an don't see this we're game
are healin'. an countin' tn centipedes
workin their way in through TIL ceilin' an
sides O TIL 'dobe-they hain't 'nough ac-
ticn in that kind O. work.
The Durangoites who heard Nat thus
express his natural objection to being
lead-plugged hoped that he would get
away with his determination, but none of
us had much of an idea that he would be
able to make that determination stick for
very long. Aiken had never shown the
camp anything in the line of strategy,
and so. of course, we had no way of fig
uring that he possessed any of that kind
of stuff
We'll, just two days after Nat had got
his badge on buriy, green-eyed chap
named Bill McShane, who had drifted up
to Durango from the Santa Anita noun
tains, where he had grown sulky after
years of unsuccessful prospecting, knock
ed off work at noon. absorbed about half
gallon of the jolly juniper juice into his
system. and then sportively shot the
right ear from the head Of a Chink keep
er of feed shack. After doing this Bill
strolled out into the middle of the street
durango then being one-street camp
and announced that he couldn't abide
any kind of grub joint that didn't pro-
vide it's patrons with stewed puff -adders
fricasseed tarantuas and scorpions la
Sonora. adding that the same was the
only kind of food that he cared to eat
when he felt real good, as he happened
to be feeling at that moment.
thinks they're some few on gun-breezin'
wants t. dispute Mr.. McShane wound up,
obviously referring to Day Marshal Nat
Aiken. we're I'm a-perchin',' and he left
of the This Is 1t honkatonk, and. with his
thumbs tucked into his gun belt. blinked
boozily in the sunshine.
Presently a dray, hauled by flea-bit-
ten and 1onesome-looking mule, and driven
by a greaser smoking a corn-shuck cigar
cite. pulled alongside the plank sidewalk
in front of the honkatonk against which
McShane was leaning and glooming. A
large square pine box, of the sort that
blankets for western shipment used to be
packed in. was the dray's load.
'McShane gazed idly at the mule and the
dray and the box. He did not observe that
the top of the box was missing. But when
the blue steel muzzles of two forty-fives
held by pair Of freckled hairy hands,
appeared over the edge of the box and a
red head, uncovered by any hat, followed
the suns. bobbing up jumping jack-wise,
McShane suddenly became a heap OBJ
servant.
{" Point both of 'em at the buzzards.
Bill said the day marshal of Durango in
persuasive sort of a key, resting his
arms the edge of the box and drawing
a fine bead with both of his guns on Nc
Shane's torso-and before Aiken had got
the words out the greaSer driver, rightly
apprehending that there'd be some action
in that neighborhood presently, suddenly
dropped backward off his seat and squat
ted for protection behind the far side of
the box.
'McShane, assuming the obedient air of
the man who knows that he is bulged,
stuck his left arm up, and made a move
as if to point upward with his right too.
But he didn't stick the right up. He went,
instead, for his right-hand gun-and it
was a lightning movement, at that But
it wasn't lightning enough, notwithstand-
ing.
Nat broke McShane's right shoulder with
a ball before the man from the Santa Apita
country could get his rght-hand gun
cleared for action. The shock knocked Nc
Shane down. Aiken vaulted with one hand
over the side of the box, and in something
less than two seconds he had McShane
disarmed.
-" Couldn't help it. nohow. Bill Aiken ex-
planned to the wounded man as he ard the
greaser loaded him into the dray to take
him for treatment to the office of the saw
bones down the street, AN so YOU don't
want t. take it to heart none whatever I'd
ma given you better chanst, only l Just
don't like t stand t git s'eved
up hull heap by boys full O cactus medi-
cine FIR TIL wages I'm agittin an that's a
fac
Three days later Jim Munson. the fore
man of a bunch of shafts to the south Of
the camp, got letter from one of his
eastern wives that touched him on the raw
Jim jumped the reserva ton over the re-
ceipt of that letter, and Jim was ure-enough
bad when he got busy with the dreani1gs
or the coils.
Two hours after he'd come in from the
claims and descended upon the camp jim
was jumping on his hat in the middle of
the street, with both guns out and yelling
that the flock of grizzlies that had the gig
zard to tackle him would have to have
their claws ground to a razor edge with al
igator files, and that even then he would
tear their teeth out of their jaws with his
naked hands
Then Jim constituted himself a sort of
battery of light artillery parked at the head
Of the street, for he took up his position on |
A sandmound and swept the thoroughfare
with both of his guns every time he saw
4 careless or unsuspecting man emerge
from groggery.
Jim had kept the street deserted for
about half an hour from his coign of
vantage on the mound, and he was in
forming the baking breeze that was blow |
ng that he, James Munson, ESQ.,, was a |
gray desert wolf that preferred to lap |
strongly impregnated alkali water to sip
ping the cool. sweet product of the fresh |
est springs when pair of knobbed and |
'reckled hands holding a couple of blue |
steel guns and a cowlicky red head. all |
to man lying close to the edge |
If the roof Of the Morning Star honkatonk. |
we're seen by some of US sitting in the bar |
Der shop across the street. Nat had got |
ntO the place from the rear and climbed |
% the roof. We were waiting for Jim to |
90 away from that mound before we VEN |
ured into the street