The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1910-05-18
TERRIBLE CHAUNCEY.
How a Bad Man From Bitter
Greek Escaped Being LgnChed.

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!.
/ When the Methodist conference
sent Billy. Wheeler to New Mexico to
turn the bad mar from his evil ways
it 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 it's adele walls
and goods box bell tower as a six
year-old boy with a red wagon.
Billy was a 200 pounder;-" a rosy
checked lad with a blue eye that
looked thoughtfully at the boys when
they told him fairy tales oi the miners
and the cliff jewellers. He was slow
of speech but earnest III action, and
when the men of the 4sombrero
learned he wasn't afraid Of a gun
they took to him as g brother and a
gentleman. The first collection was
taken up by Shorty Mac, the saloon
keeper, and Stormy Jones, the slick
I est card sharp in camp, who volun-
! teered as ushers and produced results
by carrying the contribution hat in
one hand and a 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 a revolver and in
time became quite expert in hitting
the ace nailed to Il tree.
Billy's wonderful popularity as
shepherd of the camp arose from the
fact that he was zone Of the boys"
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 gopd a judge of horseflesh as the
Territory had. In consequence the
little adobe church was filled every
| Sunday with a 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
be just had to raise his hand.
One morning a stranger blew in
from up the valley somewheres and
went o7er to Sandy McPherson's tav-
ern, whore he registered as "Chaun-
cey de Argyle, Bitter Creek, Mozam-
bique,' in characters that looked like
they had been enmeshed in a 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 fevolvers, all loaded and ready
for use. A beautiful dagger handle
stuck out the right boot top. Chaun-
cey's head was covered with an I'M
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, can I want the
best You got; no handmedewns for
me-" go,
81 see," said Sandy, who was a
quiet, unemotional' chap and who
never carried his guns in sight. "How
long you going to stop?"
GAS long as I 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.
II 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 IN eating. The
bad man used his dagger ostenta-
tiously to cut up his v%ictuals, now
and then dropping it on the floor to
make a noise. Failing in his effort
to pick a fuss, the gentleman from
Bitter Creek lit a cigar and strobe
about town. In the afternoon he
went out in the hills, where Carl In
glefritz, an ~inoffensive old German,
had a 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 ultiuatums and telling
of his slaughter of the unfortunate
thirtcoD