Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-01-13
CHAPTER K.
Storm Gathering.

Storm Gathering.
It's whole lot interesting to how
different sorts of people put up hght.
Cat, she splits, and proceeds with claws:
dog, he says no remarks. but opens up with
teeth; horse, he's mighty swift to paw; bull,
he hooks: bear. he hugs affeetionate While
he eats your face: Frenchfnan, he pokes
with a sword; German. he slashes; Span
lard, he throws his knife; Niger, he bar
bers around with q razor; and all of us
have the same feelings to express In some
heartfelt sudden way. If you're looking for
trouble with Mr.. Cowboy. you want TO
tame yourself and get pretty near absent
before he shoots But at present my mind
is set on Bridshers. which is complicated
tribe, and they sure fight most various
When Mr.. Britisher is merely feeling
good and wants to loose out his Joy with
little wholesome scrap. he naturally hates
| to Kill his man first lick-that would spoil
future sport. So if he's Irish he turns
himself loose with club, or if he's Scotch
| or English he feels for the other man with
hard paw. That relieves him, and does
| no harm. But sometimes he feels real
Warllke. There's nobody special he wants
! to kill. his small home tribe has nothing
10 spare for burial, and yet he must have
war. That's why his government keeps
proper hunting preserves well stocked with
these savages are sure to be wanting
| fight, SO Mr.. Britisher obliges, and comes
along hot with rifles and Ma kim guns Saw
ages are plenty, so that If few get spoilt
they'll never be missed. Its good for
them,' says Mr. Blitisher land ii saves
| the crockery from being smashed at home"
So you see how Mr.. Brtisher may have
MS peacefui scrapping with another boy, or
go play with his SavageS when they want
licking; but he's serious none-iust laughs
| and shakes hands afterward. But what
does he do when he feels real awful and
dangerous? Civilized folk like us Ameri-
| cans, feeling as bad as that turn loose
the guns. and wipe each other out to a
hn1sh. Other people may prefer swords or
batterlng rams, or tilt with locomotive
engines, or cannon loaded with buffalo
horns, or dynamite at ten PAGES; but all
| that would feel too tame for Mr.. Britisher
No, he puts on his war paint-b!acS suit and
| top hat most hideous-calls on his lawyer
| IN a frantic passion, and goes to lawi
Now look, see how these two families
| the du Chesnays and the Ryans, went to
| law. They came of the best fighting stock
| on earth; they were whole-blooded Irish,
| but they went to law The du Chesnavs
turned the Ryans out of their home and
country, which was bad Then the Ryans
did worse: lay low and waited bitter years,
gathered their strength, and struck from
| behind-the towards. Old Ryan got his
enemy corrupted with drink and gambling,
stole all his cattle, left him helpless to
! fight, then seized the home to try and turn
! dying lady into the desert. He kept
within the law, but there was not an
honest card in his whole game 1t was
foul play. and I for one don't blame poor
Jim Tor wanting no more law in the fight
with Ryan.
And yet reckon that after the first fifty
miles of his trail that day Jim's main
| thoughts were about the dinner he didn't
have, and by shutdown he quit caring who
was dead and who was ruined as he racked
on, with aching bones and a PLAYED horse
1t was nigh dark when he raised the
Toughnut Mine at Grave City against the
red of dusk. Around him lay the rolling
yellow swell of the hot grass, clumps Of
scorched cactus, blistered hills of rock: be-
| fore him the mine-heads and the roofs with
| sparkling streaks of blue electric lamps
He jockeyed his worn horse past the jim
| Crow Mine, and the house where my cou-
sins lived, the Misses Jameson, then on
| through scattered suburbs till swinging
round the corner into the main street he
rolled at a canter for the stable yard
Abreast of the Sepulchre saloon he heard
his name called, and refined up sharp to
speak with the small stable boy from
Ryan's livery" who came limping out to
meet him through the dust
Say, kid''-he leaned over in the saddle
well-nigh fallng-''where shall I find the
Duke?"
The little one-eyed cripple jerked his
thumb back at the sepulchre saloon The
Docks in thar" he answered.
Jim rolled from the saddle, dropped his
rein to the ground, quit his horse brushed
past the cripple and went on without n
word. He was so stiff he could hardly
walks so dead weary that he reeled against
| the swing doors trying to get them open.
The cripple helped him. and he staggered
in. The place was crowded, but the clash
of his spurs along the floor made several
punchers turn round lazy, asking him to
drink, because he belonged to their tribe.
Two of the cowboys grabbed him, but he
broke away and went on.
Beyond the bar on the right We're the
gambling tables each with its ,,f
players and at the third Jim saw Louisiana
on a high seat watching for Low Lived joe
his partner who dealt the game. Opposite
them he found his father, then pushed his
way through the crowd to Balshannon's
side. The ivory chips were piled breast
high in front of him, for play had been
high, and the Dock had had a run of luck
The boy watched his fathers face flushed
high with excitement, his feversh eyes,
his twitching lips, and restless fingers at
play with the round ivory counters which
stood for five thousand dollars won since
supper time. Opposite he looked up at
Louisiana on the high seat, all bald-feced
shirt and diamonds, guarding his stacks of
gold coin with revolver. Low-Lived Joe
faced up q card on the deck, and passed
some chips to Balshannon. The rest of
the players had quit to watch the big
game through.
Father. want you" says he.
We'll, JIM" says Balshannon whats
the trouble?" He never looked up.
But the boy was shaking all over
Father, come, I want you"
The Dock staked, then rolled a cigarette
Don't bother me- JIM" says he you'll
spoil the run. We can't do anything boy
for we've lost those cattle"
Ryan has seized the rancho, the sheriff's
there! Come outi'
Balshannon quivered, but Joe showed him
a pile of blue chips.
$50 Santa Cruz is gomez" Balshannon
drawled, and doubled his stake. "Wen,
how's your mother"
"Deadp
Balshannon went gray, the cigarette drop
ped from his fingers. Dead" he muttered.
dead" Then he looked UP with a sort of
queer smile. Anything else?" he asked
quite cheerfully.
Say Dock" said Louisiana, I'D hate to
see you struck from not watching yo'
game
Thanks. Pete" Balshannon staked out
the whole of his winnings, then picked up
the cigarette struck match, and lighted
1t slowly.
Come homer the boy was whispering.
Come homer
Jim saw the tears rolling down his
fathers face, and spiashing on the chips.
Whats the use, my boy?" he said very
softly. Would that bring your mother
back?"