The Yale expositor. (Yale, St. Clair County, Mich.) 1894-current, 1910-07-08

the fort, had learned to let the gamblers alone
Whenever row occurred between the sport and
the soldier the town marshal grabbed the soldier
hrst-and last generally. Then the unlucky sol
der was whipsawed-hne and jail in town
guardhouse and courtmartial 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 its 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 an even break More
over, had not a man just been pardoned by the
governor after receiving a 20year sentence for
a 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 1t 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 the post
he deputized twelve good men and placed them
guards in the jail. Gamblers eagerly volun
teered. but he would have OF them.
The town buZzed now Soldiers going
to attack the Jail. 1t said But not blue
uniform the streets. When taps had
sounded across the fiat, the fort silent, with
only the sentries pacing back and forth In the
moonlight. Just the same, Sheriff Mcfarland
posted his men in the jail and waited. Near mid
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 we're all too slow.
Across Poverty fat. 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 fortyive at hip. It was
the army-trained machine in action, swift, silent,
certain. II circled the plaza In column OF fours.
Sentries took post at a curt word OF command.
The crowds fell back before threatening carbne
muzzes Up the broad stone walk, Right front
into line. Halt" and a grim platoon faced the
Jail door with carbines Mt the ready.
The leader stepped out briskly and hammered
with pistol butt.
What do you want?" asked the sheriff from
inside the door,
I'VE want Hunt"
Now, boys, you don't" began the sheriff.
But the leaders voice cut in. clear. determined.
NO 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 a regiment They've got
dynamite. ] guess well have to let 'em in.
boys Don't shoot" said he and opened the 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 pray7"
mo"
He was given a shove forward The men
who held him stepped back to the ranks.