Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1910-07-13

the FORT had learned to let the gamblers alone.
Whenever a row occurred between the sport and
the soldier the town marshal grabbed the soldier
first-and last generally. Then the unlucky SOL
der whipsawed-tine and Jail in town
guardhouse and court-martial when he went back
to the post. Fighting b. and Drunken G. and
CRAZY T. troops Of the old Eighteenth grew dis
Greet if not wise. They avoided trouble and the
gamblers grew to think they owned the town.
The Twentieth knew nothing of this and it's en-
listed men were neither discreet nor wise. The
result Of several clashes with the town "tin
horns" and sports had already made them feel
that they were not getting even break. More
over, had not man just been pardoned by the
governor after receiving 20-year sentence for
deliberate, foul and unprovoked murder? The
case was an offense to justice still ranking in
the minds of soldiers and civilians alike. Every
one said it was safer to kill man than steal
COW. The sheriff knew all this and feared that
this murder Of Sergeant Hoeg, one of the best
liked men in the regiment, would be more than
they would stand. On his return from tho post
ne deputized twelve good men and placed them
as guards In the Jail. Gamblers eagerly volun-
teered, but he would have none of them.
The town buzzed now. Soldiers were going
to attack the jail, it was said. But not a blue
uniform was on the streets. When taps had
sounded across the fiat, the fort was silent, with
only the sentries pacing back and forth in the
moonlight Just the same, Sheriff Mcfarland
night whisper went round the saloons: They're
coming" The walks around the plaza filled with
an expectant crowd. The jail in the basement of
the courthouse was dark, but everyone knew that
behind 1t was Hunt, guarded by the sheriff and
twelve determined men with Winchesters. An
attempt was made to notify the fort, but wires
were cut and messengers were all too slow.
Across Poverty flat, down Main street, into
the plaza swung body of men, in army over
coats turned wrong side out, campaign hats, car
bine at shoulder, Colts forty-fve at hip. It was
the army-tratned machine in action, swift, silent,
certain. It circled the plaza in column Of tours.
Sentrtes took post at a curt word of command.
The crowds fell back before threatening carbine
muzzles. Up the broad stone walk, Fright front
into line. Halt" and grim platoon faced the
jail door with carbines at the ready
The leader stepped out briskly and hammered
with pistol butt.
What do you want?" asked the sheriff from
inside the door.
1--WE want Hunt"
"Now, boys, you don't" began the sheriff.
But the leaders voice cut In, clear, determined.
mo talk, sheriff. Open that door or we dy-
Mantle It,"
Dynamite! The sheriff weakened He looked
up at his men standing with ready Winchesters
at the head of the corridor steps, where they
could have held back regiment. "They've got
dynamite guess we'll have to let 'em in.
boys. Don't shoot" said he, and opened tho door.
What followed was Short sharp-and terrible.
Three men took Hunt from his cell and marched
him to front and center of the waiting platoon.
"Have you anything to say?" the leader asked.
mo"
DO you want to pray:"
NO"
He was given shove forward. The men
who held him stepped back to the ranks.