The Barre daily times. (Barre, Vt.) 1897-1959, 1911-02-27
The Phantom
Wagon I rain
BY SALLY MENDAM
Copyright by American Press Assoc
citation, 1911.


ed from the western plains / joined
a hunting party to get last crack at
this noble game. We took the old
freighting road from st. Joseph, Mo-,
to Denver, on which many wagon
train had passed before the compile
ton Of the Union Pacific road as far
as Laramie enabled merchants to
transport their goods by much more
advantageous route We had been out
but few days when an old plainsman
wandered into our camp. He was the
ghostllest chap ever saw. He looked
to be very old-how old we could not
tell-and yet he didn't seem to have
any homS so far as we could judge,
he was an inhabitant of the plains,
sometimes living with white men,
sometimes with Indians.
One night after the others had turn
ed in / was before my tent sitting
with the old plainsman smoking when
I heard the creaking Of a wagon. II
was bright moonlight, and ! saw to-
ward the east what appeared to be an
old fashioned plains schooner-a wag-
on drawn by four CORRESPONDING
toward us We were quarter Of a
mile from the road on which It was
moving the old st. Joseph and Den
yer freighting road-so that we got
only distant view If the team.
81 didn't know said to the plains
man. that wagons pass over this road
since the railroad has been finished"
"They don't; that's the phantom
team"
| laughed incredulously
"Ef you'd like to hear the story" he
replied, "I'll tell you. But you won't
believe it nohow."
The wagon numbered along west
ward and disappeared The old plains
man told me the yarn.
zone mornin' about twenty years ago
a spick and span wagon with a new
canvas cover drawn by four shiny
horses was ferried across the Missouri
river from st. Joe and struck out for
Denver Inside was a family OF emf
grants. Jim Ringler. the husband and
father, drove, while the mother and
four children were inside. They were
goin' out to make home In some of
the new territories into which the
western world was divided There
wasn't anything about the emlgrant,
his family, his wagon or his horses
that wasn't prosperous looking. He
had sold out his business and put the
money into this outfit.
six months from that l met Ringlef
muyin' south OF Colorado Springs
His family didn't look so comfortable,
a good deal Of the paint was wore Oh
his wagon, and mis- horses We're lean
He said he'd been disappointed in find
IN a good place 10 settle He'd tried
the plains and the mountains. The
plains was too low and the mountains
was too high. He was lookin for
somethin' intermediate. / recommend
ed the foothills. and he said he'd try
'em.
Purity nigh year passed, and met
the Ringler family ag'in in Utah
There wasn's one Of 'em that didn't
look like a skeleton, there wasn't a bit
Of paint on the wagon, two Of the
horses had died. and the other two was
skin and bone. He said he was still
lookin' for place te settle. but hadn't
fortr,d auvthfpp IN erit him
THE last time l ever seen Ringler's
outfit was after another year had pass
ed It was on this road The family
had Just been murdered by party Of
Indians. The wagon was turned up
side down, the Indians had taken The
horses, and the bodies Of Jim Rlngler
his wife and children were layin' be
side the road scalped. I've seen 'em
good many times since, always on the
old st. Joe and Denver road headin
westward I've often tried to git near
enough to 'em to see ef they was spicB
and span like they was when they
started or with the spolzes rattlin' from
bein' dried out as they was when the
Indians got EN-"
There was something about the
creaking of the disappearing wagon,
the story and the old plainsman to
make me shudder. As for a real wag
on passing over that deserted thor !
oughfare that had been abandoned fop |
the railroad, II did not seem possible
that any emigrant or freighter would |
take route so dangerous and so ex.
pensive. Yet | could hear the wagon
rattle, and. catching a faint view Of /
II In the moonlight. I saw that II was /
a veritable schooner Of the olden time /
Without a word l said good night TO
the man who had told me the story
and turned In.
In the morning the old fellow waA
not in camp. He had gone without
leave as he had come without inyi /
tntion.
That day we met some plains PEG.
pie. told them shout our visitor and
the story he narrated. They had evil
IDENTIFY heard the story before and
seemed TO believe in its ghostly at
tributes, for they stood listening to 1t
In a sort Of fright. When l had fin.
lshed they asked NE to describe the
man who had told it.
HE was tall and thin, with white
beard and hair, hook nose, not
tooth in his head and glittering eyes,
sunk deep in their sockets He might
be any age from seventy to hundred
There was scar Of a terrible cash