The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1905-06-03
NEW hooks.
The Stirring Deeds Of Mr.. Masterson.

the St1fFlnB Dceus VI W.T.. NusteIbUu'
Alfred Henry Iewiss story Of "The
Sunset Trail "a. s. Barnes CO.. tells OF
the deeds Of Bat Masterson, always called
Mr.. Masterson in the narrative. He was
distinguished by "primeval GRANTEES and
,,iIences, did not ask or answer questions,
and did not take or give advice. He was
few of years" or, as we should say young.
and swell In his way. His spurs were OF
wrought steel, traced with gold; the red
handkerchief knotted about his brown
throat was silk, and not cotton; his gray
sonbrero was enriched with band OF
hraided gold and silver made In the like
ness OF a rattlesnake, and he wore GRIM
son sash wound twice about his waist. the
sringed ends depending handsomely along
his left leg.
strong man OF the plains, OF course.
He was buffalo slayer and he did not over
look Indians. Ruth Pemberton came out
from the East visiting. She was properly
chaperoned. She had rice white teeth
set in roseleaf lips, and was otherwise
lovely. Tho Count Banti, a sutton from
Europe, was in her party. He was wild
10 get at the Indians. When Ruth Penn
berton set her most interesting eyes on Mr..
Masterson she secretly admired his power
full shoulders and compared him-graceful
and timber and litha as mountain lion
with the tubby Count Banti, to that pa
tricians disadvantage Also, Mr.. Master
sons hands and feet were smaller than those
OF Count Banti.'
Ruth and the Count went out in buck
board to see Mr.. Masterson shoot buffaloes.
Mr. Masterson crept through the grass
toward a herd of these doomed animals.
Fncountering a coiled rattlesnake in his
Path, he poked it with his rifle and made
I move away. Ruth Pemberton sat en-
tranced in the blackboard. oblvious Of the
Count. She followed the operations Of
Mr.. Masterson with field glass. At the
end Of twenty minutes Mr.. Masterson rose
on one knee and began shooting buffaloes
with buffalo gun. He had shot three and
might have stood in his tracks and slain
a dozen score had not the herd suddenly
numbered on at right angle.
They had been frightened by Cheyenne
Indians. The Indians approached. Mr..
Masterson got Ruth Pemberton and the
Count into the shelter Of buffalo wallow.
There were ten Indians. They began to
shoot. The Count, PROSTATE, gave noisy
expression to his terror. Mr. Masterson
SnOt Ill 1HuLhIl. lHcll ticio NViO hhhS'
The nine charged in open formation. MIR.
Masterson shot five of them. In Mr. l,ewiss
vivid language; THE thing was on and by
and over in a moment; the charging Chey-
ennes went to right and left, unable to ride
up against that tide Of death which set 40
fercely in their faces. Nine Cheyennes
made that charge upon the BIT e 10 wallow:
Ruth Pemberton counted but four to flash
TO the rear at the close These four rode
to the river and went "squattering' across.
The Count sat up and looked foolish. Ruth
Pemberton turned from him, ashamed.
Alas for Ruth Pemberton! At the end
Of four days she had to depart on the
Journey home. -Four days; and the buck
hoard bearing Ruth Pemberton, Madam
Pemberton and Count Banti drew away
for the North. A Lieutenant with ten
cavalrymen, going from Fort Elliot to
Dodge, accompanied them by way OF
escort As the blackboard reached the
ridge behind which it was to disappear
Ruth looked back and saw a rider waving
his sombrero in farewell. 1t was MIR.
Masterson. Ruth Pemberton gazed and
still gazed; the hunger Of the brown eyes
was as though her love lay starving. The
trail sloped sharply downward. and the
picture Of the statue horseman on the hill
was snatched away. With that-her life
turned drab and desolate-Ruth Pemberton
slipped to the floor OF the blackboard and
buried her face in her mothers kindly
lap"
sad case, and shockingy sudden. Mr..
Masterson kept on with his unstudied ex-
hbitions of poise and power. We can
merely outline the tragic story of the Wild
Rose OF the Canadian whose other name
was Moie Brennan. The Wild Rose fell
in love with Mr. Masterson, just as Ruth
Pemberton had done, simply from looking
at him. When the jealous Sergeant King
shot twice at our hero, one shot wounded
him grievousy and the other killed the
Wild Rose, who had run in between. "The
Wild Rose fell; at her side fell Sergeant
King. snuffed out by the unfailing six
shooter of Mr.. Masterson. Hard hit as he
was. Mr.. Masterson raised the Wild Rose
in his arms. She opened her brown eyes
swimming with love. Mr.. Masterson, look
ing into the soft depths, saw that love and
knew it for his own. Even as he gazed
the warm lights failed and faded; the rose
flush deserted the cheek. In the arms Of
Mr.. Masterson the Wild Rose lay dead"
This is at pag 90, and we find Mr.. Master
son still shooting at page $3.50, which is
within four pages of the end of the book.
His last shots fired in this tale pierced the
ribs of Mr.. Updegraffe fatally and famed
the nose of Mr.. Peacock, who had found
shelter for himself with the exception of his
nose II the reader wishes for more than
this story contains we shall consider that
he is greedy indeed.