The Montgomery advertiser., 1906-05-12
< OUR DAILY SHORT STORY >

name is Jim, to which tho title 'cap- tain Is often superadded by himself.
 He was leading the nag. and was grinning with a self-satisfaction that was truly edifying. The saddle was there, but scratched, bruised, torn and worthless. In the bags was a tangled mass of stuff, mostly tackle. which Grunthard exhibited in glee to assure me of his honesty. The lenses of the glass were ruined, but everything iex- cept the knife and a shoe, was there,
 Me pind 'um,' said Jim. Heap hard ketch 'um hoss. you sabe.'
 {" 'Where'd you find him?' I replied.
 Heap far. Pind 'um pish- hook. pish-line-heap bind 'um. Pretty good Injun.'
 Yes I said. pretty good Injun. but the fish-hooks, lines. horse and all ain't worth two bits.'
 He seemed dejected, so I gave him a dollar and the fish-iine and sent him off. I thought 1t a wonder he brought me back thing. and I guess dollar was little enough Winslow's friend seemed to think the same.
 The Indian in question now joined a number who were come upon the square , to sit down to the daily round of gamb- ling. One by one newcomers strag gled across the lot to squat upon the edge of the blanket and mingle in tho mysteries of pass the stick" At length the game grew far too slow, and the cards came forth, as be- fitting the increasingzvalue of the bets Captain Jim lost all the change he had. As the last of his pieces of sil- yer went he arose and looked about. Not banker, not even a packer did he see in the assemblage. He present. ly noted that Winslow was out in his garden. at the rear of his house. and ~.~sA AI a..An ferent manner of the most friendly neighbor. winslow's friend was sit- ting near as Jim approached.
 "Hullo, Jim, how are you?" said the host, continuing to sprinkle with the hose.
 "H-e-a-p sick replied the buck. Then he shifted about. as no one manifested an interest in his being or condition, whistled under his breath, looked at the garden and grunted not a little.
 "How's yoh hoss? he asked at last.
 Pretty we'll"
 More shifting and whistling.
 Jim heap bind 'um."
 "Yes. know you found him." Wins low answered.
 Heap bind 'um pish-hook."
 True for you. You're all right" said winslow. Then to his friend: Our aboriginal acquaintance here is endeavoring to intimate that further remuneration for services rendered would not be refused with scorn and indignation.
 "Yash-heap fine day." answered Jim, with perfect confidence in his own interpretations.
 A silence followed. and the white men were smiling.
 Heap bring 'um glass. heap belt, heap ali." the Washoe resumed.
 "Oh! I know" said Winslow; "pret- T.l L..k l. II you dollar-thats enough"
 The Indian pondered, and not in vain. A brilliant thought was born in his mind.
 My wife-she's heap wants a dol lar," said he with the utmost gravity.
 The two men burst out in uncontrol- lable laughter.
 jingo! that's worth a dollarl' and Winslow pitched the cash to the buck and stood there red with mirth as the fellow solemnly walked to the gay "rosette" of gamblers over the way.
 At the coming of Jim a place was made in the circle, he was given dimes for his dollar. and the play was re- sumed. The two common players soon lost their coins to Jim, who then pus- sessed an additional GO cents. He squared himself to bust the bank" of Mingo, a willy chief sitting opposite
 Now was waged a mighty war with pots" as great as 40 cents. Back ward and forward went the money, and the circle closed about the antag- ,onists. Steadily, inexorably, the skill of Mingo was draining the purse of Captain Jim. At the end of an hour 90 cents were gone; the eyes of the men were glinting with excitement and the bosoms of the sduaws were heaving. About this time came Wins low across from his place, to see in what manner his coin was being em- ployed
 On and on went the silent play Jim was dropping piece after piece, as if in the maw of a hungry machine. At length his final dime was gone. He searched his pockets for the where withal to continue the play Half a dozen fsh-hooks, a six-inch piece of gas-pipe and a hunting knife ap- peared
 The hooks and the pipe went speed fly across the cloth to his foe. The knife he yearned to keep. Looking about, like a tiger at bay. he espied his wife.
 'Tll stake my squaw against a dol lar pour-bits,' said the captain in Washoe and English.
 And Winslow fahcied he saw a gleam. half of appeal, half of reckless bravado. in the glance the Indian threw to the youthful squaw
 Mingo took an inventory of her charms and noted the look of surprise in her face.
 "One dollar" said he.
 And they played again.
 The fate of the bronze tinted daurh- ter of the soil hung in the balance for half an hour. At the end of that time