The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1909-12-14

fool to play pokah--he didn't know
| nawthin' about guards"
At the time this statement was
made. Wet Dog greatly rejoiced; two
, hours later he had reason to believe
that It was merely what the white
men call bluff. For, while the In
dian was good at fixing the cards,
and could glibly deal out four kings
! TO his opponent, thoughtfully retain
ing four aces for his own personal
use, he seemed, somehow, unable to
buck up against this apparently tipsy
miner. Apache luck seemed decided
ly on the wane. He lost one hand
! after the other, until, finally, the
American had beside him all OF Wet
Dogs portable property. The chief
had lost all his loose money; then his
| good Government rife drawn from
the u. S. ration Department. and
then his Colt army and navy revolt
yer; next, the silver watch bearing
the legend ITO my dear Christian
Brother" which had been sent him
by friend OF the last missionary who
had converted him. A final jackpot
swept away Blue-Jay's saddle and bril-
die, and then Wet Dog laid down his
cards, glaring wickedly at the SEEM
ingly tipsy white man, and at the sum
bonneted white squaw so uncon-
cernedly Tightening the cinches of her
saddle. IL Wet Dog had been able to
| get at his lost rifle or revolver, he
would have shot down man and wo-
man where they stood. But as It was,
he could only grit his teeth in impo-
tent fury, and mutter that he would
play no more white mans games. No,
he had enough,
Laughing teasingly, the miner
stood up, carelessly picking up the
firearms: We'll, yes, it is too bad to
win everythin' man has. Still I am
good with. the cards. Now, If It was
hawses. it might be different"
At this, an idea occurred to Wet
Dog, who was sullenly making to-
ward his ponies; he gave a furtive,
| comprehensive glance at the white
mans horses. Neither of them, he
judged, could run half a mile with
| Blue-Jay. The pinto pony, with its
ewe-neck and woman's saddle, he did
not deign to glance at twice. What
woman" he unused, lever rode any
thing but a cow" Here was his
chance.
No, no." grunted he, seeing that
the American was saddling up. eve
will have pony-running: Apache
: pony, your horse. You not wanting
Yes, yes! Apache horse no sabe run
fast. your pony good runner. Say
we have drink; you give Apache chief
| firewater. We talk"
The American protested. mo. no
My pony can't run, and your Apache
pony is good 'un"
Wet Dog piled more whisky, and
more gutteral eloquence.
Well" the American said, you're
a real sporty sort, and it is a blanked
shame for you to do all the losin'
Say, believe (hic) we will run Just
one little race. But theh must be
some bettin', just to show theh ain't
any frost. see? What Chico will
Apache put up?"
In his glee at having gotten the
white man drunk and in his certainty
of dead easy thing, Wet Dog boosted
that he would bet everything he had
his racer, Blue-Jay, the bag of tur
| quoises, everything. in fact, against
| the Americans three horses and the
belongings he had just won from him
at poker.
The American agreed, and all pre-
liminaries were quickly arranged;
the race to be ridden by the two men
on their own ponies; distance. one
mile. TO a clump of cottonwoods on
the plain ahead the start to be given
| by Lily-maid, who was shown how to
fire revolver, which the American
] himself loaded for her. With the
white woman obligingly holding the
stakes-in which Wet Dog saw nc
risks. inasmuch as Lily-mald held both
revolver and rile-the two men got
their ponies into line, the lesser
squaws, dogs and ponies looking OF
stoiidly from the background. Their
all was still; meanwhile Lily-maiC
nervously extended the heavy Colt
pulled back the hammer, and gave {
trembling jerk to the trigger.
Click, bang! and three horses
leaped forward in binding cloud o
dust. Tense silence reigned for Il,
moment, then there uprose loud walls
from the squaws. and a second pisto
report. which Disconnected Wet Do,
as. crouching low on Blue-Jay's back
he tore along for dear life. Until
the pony was we'll settled, he dareC
not look. When he did so, however
judge OF the vision that met his dunn
founded eyes
Disappearing In dust. nearly half
mile ahead was the ewe-neckcd pint,
pony going like streak OF lightning
while tine woman on his back. he
sun-bonnet vanished. and wig of Ionr
yellow curis dangling from n closet,
cropped masculine Uranium. mad,
wild and derisive motions Steadyin,
the pinto with one hand. with tn.
other she waved the Apache's prec
] ious bag of dollars and turquoises
q O@