Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1909-08-11

been canvassed, and the troubles put
aside for chicken, coffee and cigars,
when Smith, who did not smoke, told
the story of something he had seen
the day before at Cold Springs that
pleased him.
The men in the Number Eight mine
had determined to get rid of some
Italians, and after a good deal of
rowing had started in to catch one of
them and hang him. They had chosen
a time when McCloud, the assistant
superintendent of the mine, was down
with mountain fever. 1t was he who
had put the Italians into the mine.
He had already defended them from
injury, and would be likely, it was
known, to do so again if he were able.
On this day a mob had been chasing
the dagos, and had at length captured
one. They were running him down
the street to a telegraph pole when
the assistant superintendent appeared
in scant attire and stopped them.
Taking advantage of the momentary
confusion, he hustled their victim into
the only place of refuge at hand, a
billiard hall. The mob rushed the
hall In the farthest corner the I'M
lucky Italian, bleeding like a bullock
and insane with fright, knelt, clinging
to McCloud's shaky knees. In trying
to make the back door the two had
been cut off, and the sick boss had
got into a corner behind a pool table
to make his stand. In his pocket he
had a pistol, knowing that to use it
meant death to him as we'll as to the
wretch he was trying to save. Fifty
men were yelling in the room. They
had rope, hatcAets, a sprinkling of
guns, and whisky enough to burn the
town, and in the corner behind pool
table stood the mining boss with
mountain fever, the dago and a broken
billiard cue.
Bucks took the cigar from his
mouth, leaned forward in his chair,
and stretched his heavy chin out of
his neck as if the situation now
promised a story. The leader, Smith
continued, was the mine blacksmith,
a strapping Welshman, from whom
McCloud had taken the Italian in the
! street. The blacksmith had a revol-
yer, and was crazy with liquor. Nc
Cloud singled him out in the crowd,
pointed finger at him, got the atten-
ton of the men, and dashed him across
! the table with his tongue until the
blacksmith opened fire on him with
his revolver, McCloud all the while
shaking his finger at him and abusing
| him like a pickpocket. "The crowd
couldn't believe it's eyes," Gordon
Smith concluded, land McCloud was
pushing for the blacksmith with his
cue, when Kennedy and / squirmed
! through to the front and relieved the
! tension. McCloud wasn't hit"
What is that mining mans name?"
asked Bucks, reaching for a message
clip.
"McCloud."
First manner" continued Bucks,
mechanically.
George"
Bucks looked at his companion in
surprise. Then he spoke, and a feel
| ing of self-abasement was reflected in
his words. George McCloud," he
echoed. Did you say George? Why,
/ must know that man. / turned him
down once for a job. He looked SO
peaceable 1 thought he was too soft
for u.s." The president laid down his
cigar with gesture of disgust. "And
yet there really are people along this
line that think I'm clever. / haven't
judgment enough to operate a trolley
car. It's a shame to take the money
they give me for running this system,
Gordon Hanged if l didn't think that