The Greeley tribune., 1906-03-29

the crowd stared and swore softly with
WONDER while the prescient hummer
| licked his lips.
osueh knelt by the sheriff, unfasten.
lhs the collar of his coat. His own
posillon was now a very delicate one.
ana he knew it. If the Sherin nan
p"4s' MS adversary would pay with
ms NE lor 1.-The punishment he had
Ihlllcted. Apparently, however the
man mad no friends, for not a soul
except the landlord and John himself
troubled to lind out whether he was
still alive. "A''
Nothing, as it happened, was serious.
~ wrong with Lassiter. He was
hnocked OUT and severely bruised
ana would be marked for weeks. bmt
SUN glass of brandy speedily re-
viVed MIN; and his shooting irons
were removed from him. A few min.
u'es later Ogden was remounting to
continue MS Journey, with a pleased
SEouh,enance and somewhat sore
M hiuchles. AS he swung into the sad
uie' ne was accosted by the Mexican.
Senor. where you vamos now?"
"Why?"
| lou will never come near Calhoun
City night time? No. That Sheriff
kill you" John shifted.
His funeral might come first. Still,
you meant well. Thanks, my boy
He smiled, and with the impulse of a
soou natured man, extended his hand.
'Adios amigo" he said.
The MeXican's face shone. "Ah,
gracious Senior, | nevair forget"
A month later the spring roundup
was over, and John Ogden was a free
man, with 800 in his pocket, prepar.
ing to take summer holiday This he
decided to spend in Calhoun City. The
reason which drew him to Calhoun
was one which he would not even own
to himself-homesickn The rail
ROAD had now reached the town, and
1t was said, had brought cargo OF
people from the East decked out in
me glorles of civilized attire, and John
longed to see anything that would re
1nlnd him OF old days. So to Calhoun
he went straight away, and to Jeph
sons. There, on the second day, he
met the Sheriff, and pleased light
came into Lassiters crafty eyes as al
the sight of something he had wished
to see for long time.
"Hey drink" he said cordially
MY turn now. Order yourself"
Ogden did SO, his right hand within
easy grasp of his revolver. But nc
move was made against him, and after
close observance of the man he came
to the conclusion that none would be
| made. Burt Lassiter was a coward.
This matter cleared up, John settled
down for a game of cards. He was
generally lucky player, but tonight
everything went against him and he
lost twenty-five dollars. This was bad
but what was worse was a suspicion
that he had been cheated. He could
not prove it, and he took his bad luck
in silence, but such an experience is
never conducive to sweet temper, and
John, when he woke next morning
after restless night, was in q very
moross and uncharitable mood. What
should he do? go for his mail He stroll
led over to the post-ottice at once and
asked for letters.
Slade, the postmaster, was sweeping
out his room. He, too, was a queer
tempered man. A lean, wiry Yankee
with a wrinkled face like a monkeys
and high-pitched voice.
He took no notice of Johns request
except to say sharply:
Come in an hour"
at that moment reposing on the coun
ter at the back of the room, this was
a little hard. John stood quite still
for a minute, his wrath rising within
him, then, without deigning to speak
again, he strobe to the bag and, break
ing the seal. prepared to scatter its
contents upon the counter. Before he
could do it the postmaster flew at him
like a wild cat and Snatched the bag
from his hands.
"Ye cow-punching devil, you. If
there was a shred of law in this God.
forsaken place, I'd have ye arrested
for robbing the United States mail. AS
it is. you'll"
But he got no further, for Johns
temper had boiled over, and, catching
the little man by the back of the neck,
he shook him until he was black in
the face, then tossed him like an empty
sack to the other side of the room.
Slade was up in moment drawing
revolver, John did the same, more
quickly, but he did not fire. The post
master only carried a little nickel
plated pistol five inches long, a mere
toy beside Ogden's great army Colt.
Put it up" said John quietly. This
thing is not worth a life He lower
ed his own pistol as he spoke, when
from behind there came a sharp ping
of rifle bullet, and the postmaster
staggered against the wall. falling up
on his face dead. At the same instant
John felt hot iron touch the back OF
his neck. and voice, Burt Lassiter's
said curtly:
Hands up!"