Omaha daily bee., 1909-12-13

the stars. II was doc" Ash crying help,
nelghbors Doc" Ash that sold you a
magazine last evening. You feel again that
curious nausea.
And the neighbor-woman with her teeth
chatterlng through nervousness, tells you
how It was and you see it-described In her
direct, unpretenious way-as though you
had been there.
The little taxpayer ~shack-there 1t is
through the window-across that vacant
lot. As she talks you can see the rusty
shotgun wired to the stove in the corner,
the muzzle pointing toward the door. You
can see the new pack-rope fastened to the
trigger and around the stovepipe and bed
stead and to the door, fastened in a series
of ingenius knots and smooth running slip
noosss, tied by. a hand that "sabe' the
diamond hitch and the various knots pc
culiar to the mountains and range And
this bear-trap-the kin hunters sometimes
place at bear-bait-was all in working or
der, waiting for Doc Ash's hand upon
the door-knob.
In your minds eye you can see him
walking toward his taxpayer shack at
midnight, big, young, affable always
happy in his growing prosperity. You car
hear. the squeaking of his shoes upon the
path across the vacant lot. You can hear
him fumbling at the lock, the turning OF
the door-knob, the pushing open Of the
door to admit his big body, Also you car
see the new pack-rope growing taut upor
the trigger, the slip nooses running per
fectly, the knots holding well.
He is In the doorway, facing the muzEle
wondering perhaps where he left the lamp
He pushes the door a little wider and then
simultaneous with the muffled roar OF q
shotgun fired indoors, DOC Ash Is with
ing in the snow outside. a hideous hole II
his abdomen the arteries and intestlnei
riddled with shot.
Somehow, someway. he gets his feet and
staggering, falling, crawling, rising to fal
again. he makes his way toward the hos
pital, a trail of steamlng drops behind hin
freezing to red globules in the snow.
And so, shrieking In his blind agony, h
makes his way along the street until will
a last despairing help, neighbors!" h
falls to rise no more.
Help, neighborsl" is a cry which bring
a quick response in our town, This appea
of one human being to his kind finds
ready answer. Every difference is forgot
ten when necessity calls.
"Neff, from Iowa" ran barefoote
through the snow to lift his head. ''Ol,
man" Pulley was there as soon, an,
Shorty Allen, who never missed a fir
or fight in all his life.
They carried him quickly, gently, to tn
hospital, but no human skill could cate
and tie the shattered arteries. The doctor
knew it is the end; the plying white-facet
%neighbors know it is the end; and DOC
Ash knows it is the end.
So, with a maledictlon upon his lips 70
his unknown enemy, and a last word 70
the girl he loves, Doc Ash slips ava
to the other side.
And while the town mourns, we wonder
these of us given to wondering, what tn
sensations of the man may be, the ma
who knows so we'll how to set bear-trap
and tie the knots and. noosesr of the range
Was he waiting somewhere last nigh
r bitter, vindictive, gloatlng for the SCUM
: which would tell him that his bear-tra
/, had worked without a hitch? Or was h
riding his smoking horse through sulche
and draws to be far away? And when h
heard the news, when he learned this
: Doc Ash had staggered screamin
through the snow with his in%testlnes rio
died. was revenge as sweet as he, had AT
r ticipated? We wonder. Al
And that's how a murder is in our tow
r CODY, Wye.