The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1910-05-20
TERRIBLE CHAUNCEY
Tow a Bad Man From Bitter
Greek ESCAPED Being LYnChed.
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When the Methodist conference
sent Billy Wheeler to New Mexico to
turn the bad man from his evil ways
1t must have been the result of in
spiration. The little church at Los
Cerrillos was Billy's first charge, and
he was as proud of its adobe walls
and goods box bell tower as a six
year-old boy with a new red wagon.
Billy was 200 FOUNDER, a rosy
checked lad with blue eye that
looked thoughtfully at the boys when
they told him fairy tales of the miners
and the cliff jewellers. He was slow
of speech but earnest in action, and
when the men of the sombrero
learned he wasn't afraid of a gun
they took to him as a brother and a
gentleman. The first collection was
taken up by Shorty Mac. the saloon
keeper, and Stormy Jones, the slick
est card sharp in camp, who volun-
teered as ushers and produced results
by carrying the contribution hat in
one hand and cooked revolver in
the other. That Sunday not a man
"passed up" the chance to contribute.
So as not to offend proprieties Billy
took to wearing revolver and in
time became quite expert in hitting
the ace nailed to tree.
Billy's wonderful popularity as
D. shepherd of the camp arose from the
fact that he was zone of the boys. 4"
He taught the men to whom he was
sent to preach and respected the en-
vironments which caused them to be
somewhat different from the safely
saved flocks in the haunts of civiliza-
ton. Mining and cattle raising be-
came a part of his study and he was
as good judge of horsefesh as the
Territory had In consequence the
little adobe church was filled every
Sunday with respectful congrega-
ton and there was some talk of hav-
ing prayer meeting. To the boys
Billy was affectionately dubbed "The
Parson," and if he wasted anything
he just had to raise his hand.
One morning stranger blew in
from up the valley somewheres and
went over to Sandy McPherson's tav-
ern, where he registered as "Chaun-
cey de Argyle, Bitter Creek, Mozam-
bique," in characters that looked like
they had been enmeshed in wireless
current. Chauncey was six feet three,
broad shouldered and wore a fierce
black mustache that curled down to
his collar. About his sash were four
navy revolvers, all loaded and ready
for use. A beautiful dagger handle
stuck out the right boot TOP. Chaun-
cey's head was covered with an un-
usually big sombrero, round which
little bells jingled from a leather
band. Physically he was as fierce a
proposition as ever came to town and
he gloried in the knowledge.
I'm a bad man from Bitter
Creek" said the warlike guest,
pounding on the counter with the
butt of a revolver. "an' 1 want the
best you got; no handmedowns for
me-"
Il see," said Sandy, who was a
quiet, Unconditional chap and who
never carried his guns in sight. How
long you going to stop"
'As long as l blame please" thun-
dered the bad man, glazing down on
Sandy.
At dinner the guest from Bitter
Creek laid his revolver on the table
beside his plate and looked around
on the assembled miners, cowboys
and gamblers.
Il come down from Bitter Creek
to help run this heah town." he pro-
claimed. 81 killed thirteen men up
where I live an if anybody's got
anything to say bout it I'm waitin'
to hear from him."
Some of the boys looked up Curl
ously and then went on eating. The
bad man used his dagger ostenta-
tiously to cut up his victuals, now
and then dropping it on the floor to
make noise. Failing in his effort
to pick fuss, the gentleman from
Bitter Creek lit cigar and strobe
about town. In the afternoon he
went out in the hills, where Carl In
glefritz, an inoffensive old German,
had little claim, and took possession
by shooting at Karl's feet. Karl came
running to town and told of the in
vasion. The bad man went to other
places, issuing ultimatums and telling
< Of bis slaughter of the unfortunate
Thirteen.
Ii there was any spirit of retalia-
zion among the denizens of the from
tier camp an outsider could not have
located 1t with spyglass. On such
occasions as the real hair trigger men
of the mountains having serious work
ahead they don't announce the pro-
gram from the housetops. When
<hey've fixed date for funeral they
<read as cat until after the obse-
Jules. The shank of that afternoon
Los Cerrillos was as quiet as in a
Hell-ordered cemetery. Men lounged
pout in the shade of frame and
dobe shacks, too lazy to talk. When
PC bad man stalked down the streets
hoever was in the way stood aside
let him pass. Without protest he