The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1911-12-21

II eyes ana IauRn
Wv that rippled across
~ q the prairie like
the sound of a hidden brook The name
of It was Rosita McMuilen; and she
was the daughter of old man McMul-
len Of the Shutdown sheep ranch.
There came riding on red roam
steeds-or, to be more explicit, on
paint and a f1ea-bitten sorrel-two
wOoers. One was Madison Lane and
the other was the Frio Kid. But at
that time they did not call him the
Frio Kid, for he had not earned the
honors of special nomenclature. His
name was simply Johnny Mercy.
It must not be supposed that these
two were the sum of the agreeable
Rosita's admirers. The bronchos of a
dozen others champed their bits at
the long hitching rack of the Sun
down ranch. Many were the Sleeps
eyes that were cast in those savannas
that did not belong to the f1ocks of
Dan McMullen. But of all the cava-
liers Madison Lane and Johnny Nc
Roy galloped far ahead, wherefore
In6y are 10 De CnrOnlcled.
Madison Lane, young cattleman
from the Nueces country, won the
race. He and Rosita were married one
Christmas day. Armed, hilarious, vo-
ciferous, magnanimous, the cowmen
and the sheepmen, laying aside their
hereditary hatred, joined forces to
celebrate the occasion.
But while the wedding feast was at
its nveliest there descended upon 1t
Johnny Mercy, bitten by jealousy.
like one possessed.
"I'll give you Christmas present"
he yelled, shrilly. at the door, with his
AS in his hand. Even then he had
some reputation as an offhand shot.
His first bullet cut a neat underbit
In Madison Lanes right ear. The bar
rel Of his gun moved an inch. The
next shot would have been the brides,
had not Carson, a sheepman, pos
sessed a mind with triggers some
what we'll oiled and in repair. The
guns of the wedding party had been
hung, in their belts, upon nails in the
wall when they sat at table. as a con-
cession to good taste. But Carson,
with great promptness, hurled his
plate of roast venison and frijoles at
Mercy, spelling his aim. The second
bullet, then, only shattered the white
petals Of Spanish dagger flower sus-
pended two feet above Rosita's head.
The guests spurned their chairs
and jumped for their weapons. It
was considered an improper act to
shoot the bride and groom at we'd
ding. In about six seconds there were
twenty or so bullets due to be whiz-
zing in the direction of Mr.. Mercy.
I'll shoot better next time" yelled
Johnny; and there'u be a next time"
He backed rapidly out the door.
The cattlemen swept out upon him,
calling for vengeance.
But the sortie failed in its ven
geance. Mercy was on his horse and
away, shouting back curses and
threats as he galloped into the con-
cealing chaparral.
That night was the birthnight of
the Frio Kid. He became the bad
man" of that portion of the state. The
rejection of his suit by Miss McMul-
len turned him to a dangerous man.
When officers went after him for the
shooting Of Carson, he killed two Of
them, and entered upon the life of an
outlaw. When he was. at last shot
and killed by little one-armed Mex.
lean who was nearly dead himself
from fright, the Frio Kid had the
deaths Of Is men on his head.
Many tales are told along the Dor
der Of his impudent courage and
daring. But he was not one of the
breed OF desperadoes who have sea-
sons OF generosity and even Of soft
ness. They say he never had mercy
On the object of his anger. Yet at
tnls and every Christmastide it Is
wei to give each one credit, IL it can
De done, for whatever speck of good
ne may have possessed If the Frio
MD ever did kindly act or felt q
tnrob of generosity in his heart it was
once at such time and season, and
'nls Is the way it happened:
One December in the Frio country
rode the Frio Kid and his Satellite
and co-murderer, Mexican Frank. The
Ald reined in his mustang, and sat in
MS saddle, thoughtful and grim, with
dangerously narrowing eyes.
don't know what been thinking
ABOUT, Mex" he remarked in his usual
lio draWl, ito have forgot all about a