The Spanish Fork press. [volume] (Spanish Fork, Utah) 1902-current, 1908-01-23

Never but once is Old Man Enright
Hoorea,' observed the Old Cattleman
reminiscently; that is floored by one
OF them mastery manoovers by which
= GENT goes round another gents flank
an crawls his hump strategic. An
yet / don't aim to be understood as
sayin' that Enright never is up ag'inst
It,. He amt no more upholstered to
make aces-up beat three-of-a-kind than
you or me, an mentally when brought
Y TO bay by sech barriers of nacher, he,
like other folks, is shore obleeged to
lay down. What I'm tryin' to say is
that, when it's a case of savoy an
seem your way through, Enright
never gets downed but once.
It's Cottonwood WATSON who per-
forms this mir-cle. An what contree-
butes speshul to the strangeness OF
the play is that this Cottonwood per-
son is nothin' more'n yooth-a cal
low yooth-camped on the sunrise
side of 20. Enright, to Offset this
we're callowness of Cottonwood's
shows three times the years. l never
counts the rings on his horns, per-
sonal, holdin' it bad manners to go
projectin' about locatin' another gents
age, but it's safe to say he's 60. Now,
thar's heap of experience comm to
u gent in 60 years-a heap of cattle
to travel the trail-an' for him, with
all he's seen an met an COPIED with,
to be took out of the saddle by
child is strange to the pint of crowd
, In the yoonique. Enright says him
ser that on the hooks of it his con-
ceit goes to bed sick for week. The
deevice, too, which overcomes him is
as simple as seven-up--an' something
like it-after Cherokee Hall explains.
1t let's Cottonwood out though; an
fools Enright to a frazzle-fools him
likewise in his offishul opacity as
chief of the strangers, which is draw
In the cinch plenty tight"
The Old Cattleman made a pro-
found pause, and forgot everything
else, apparently, while he filled his
brtar pipe. l was too well taught to
put question or break in comment
He would back away from either like
q pony at sight of bride There
fore, acting upon a wisdom born of
many years acquaintance with the
old gentleman, | pulled at my cigar
Ia Silence. My wary forbearance
went not without results. Pipe light
ed, grizzle head In cloud of smoke,
through which his fine, II wrinkled
features cleaned upon me as through
fog, he again took up the thread
OF narrative,
This Cottonwood Wasson," he con.
unued in musing way, don't live
In Wolfville. For that matter, / amt
none shore he resides anywhere. My
idee Is that he passes his shallow days
cayortin' round permiscus, now in
Wolfyille. now in Red Dog, or Tucson,
or Cotton, or Lordsburg, or mebby
even Silver City. Not that he's hos
tile, or prone to lock horns with
peaceful folks an paw for trouble, but
his common gait Is to go chargin'
up an down the street, between
drinks, spurrin' his mustang to a
frenzy Of buckin', meanwhile slammin'
away with his six-shooter at tin to.
matter cans, an empty beer bottles,
an similar obsolete truck.
But Cottonwood never shoots at no
people. That is, never onless you In.
sists ON countin' a Chinaman, which
Wolfville is too consecutive to do
What! Chinaman is folks? Not in
the dedicated estimation OF Arizona
son! His merely bein' willin' Ia
work can't be permitted to pedestal
him as part of an American pop'la