The Cairo bulletin., 1911-02-17
The Phantom
Wagon Tram
By SALLY MENDAM
Copyright by American Press Asso-
c.a.ion. l9ll

this noble game. We took the old
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
route. We had been out
but few days when an old plainsman
wandered into our camp. He was the
ghostliest chap ever saw He looked
to be very old--how old we could not
tell-and yet he didn't Seem to have
any home. SO far as we could judge,
he was an inhnbltant of the plains.
living with white men,
with Indians.
One night after the others had turn
ed in / was before my tent sitting
with the old plainsman smoking when
/ heard the creaking Of wagon. 1t
was bright moonlight, and | saw to-
ward the east what appeared to be an
old fashioned plains schooner---a wag-
on drawn by four horses coming
toward us. We were q quarter Of Il
mile from the road on which 1t was
moving-the old st. Joseph and Den.
yer freighting road-so that we got
only a distant view of the team,
II didn't know" l said to the plains
man, that wagons pass over this road
since the railroad has been finished"
4e"They don't that's the phantom
team"
laughed incredulously.
"Ef you'd like to hear the story" he
replied, I'm 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 new
canvas cover drawn by four shiny
horses was ferried across the Missouri
river from ST. Joe and struck out for
Denver. Inside was o. 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 emigrant,
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. 5as
"Six months from that met Ringle.
movin' south Of Colorado Springs.
His family didn't look 50 comfortable,
a good deal Of the paint was wore OF
his wagon, and his horses were lear.
He said he'd been disappointed in find
in a good place to settle. He'd triel
the plains and the mountains. The
plains was too low and the mountains
was too high. He was lookin' for
somethin' intermediate l recommend
cd the foothills, and he said he'd try
'em.
Purity nigh gear passed, and | met
the Ringler fhmily ag'in In Utah.
There wasn't one OF 'cm that dldn'l
look Ike skeleton, there wasn't q BIT
Of paint on the wagon, two Of thy
horses had died, and the other two was
skin and bone He said he was still
lookin' for place to settle, but hadn'l
found anything to suit him
1.-THE last time ] ever seen Ringler',
outfit was after another year had pass
ed. 1t was on this road The family
had Just been murdered by party o.
Indians. Tho wagon was turned UP
side down, the Indians had taken th,
horses. and the bodies Of Jim Ringler
his wife and children were layin' be
side the road scnlpcd I've seen 'em !
good many times since, always on TIL
old st. Joe and Denver road headin
westward. I've often tried to git nea
enough to 'em to see eft they was spiel
and span like they was when the.
started or with the spokes rattlin' iron
bein' dried out as they was when tn
INDIANS got en-
There was something about tn,
creaking Of the disappearing wagon
the story and the old plainsman t
make me shudder AS for real wag
on passing over that deserted thor
oughfare that had been abandoned 70
tfe railroad, ii did not seem posslbl
that any emigrant or freighter woul
take a route so dangerous and so eS
pensive. Yet could hear the WACO
rattle, and, catching faint view o
1t in the moonlight, l saw that 1t wa
"a veritahle schooner Of the olden tlmt
Without a word / said good might
the man who had told ma the stor
| and, turned7in WI, - oi sif
In the morning the old fellow wa
not in, camp. He had gone fwithap
leave as he had come without inv
| tation.
! That day we met some plains pee
pie. I told them about our visitor an
the story he narrated. They had ev
IDENTITY heard the story before an
seemed to believe In its ghostly a
tributes, for they stood listening to
In sort Of fright. When had Gil
ished they asked me to describe til
man who had told 1t.
t1TIIc was tall and thin, with whit
beard and hair, a hook hose, not
tooth in his. head and glHtermg eve
sunk deep in their sockets! He miGE
be any age from seventy t6'ahundrc'
There was scar OF n terrible Eas
he had received right across III