Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1911-07-13


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1MS 8 81 October, and Britt & Billiards. logging
ET8I& camp had shut down for the
u0 8&v Two days the live stock had been led
u&x,&u down the same gully path by which The
l MQ& last Of the gang descending to
the Kitson Grade and ultimate civiiiza
tion McCarter. the foreman, stay
ing behind to make general inspection
Of the outfit store the to3ls. and leave
everything tight against the winters storms.
Just where the trail twisted out of sight behind
\ spur of rocks to be lost for the rest of the way
among the dense chapparal, the men turned and
looked up. Shaw and Pickens being without imagina
ton, merely waved their hats and shouted good-by
but Gofried casping his fingers about his red, snewy
neck kicked foot in the air and distorted his ugly
features with a grimace diabocal to bring
an oath to the lips of the the rock Yet
the next instant McCarter lifted his ak at arms
length above his head in an answering salute, and
the morning sum- striking its broad, bright surface,
transformed it for the moment into cleaning torch.
The passed down the mountain and Nc
Carter, slowly lowering his AK, gazed musngly off
to the east But for the profile Of Frenchman's Hill,
he would have caught distant sight of the town of
Ventrola where, that day, at the hour of noon.
William Gates to be publicly hanged for the
crime of murder The three had started early
that they might miss nothing Of the spectacle.
Zone hanging's good another to that Dutch
lamb butcher" McCarter sooquized, with Golfried's
writing features still in his minds eye "but if I'd
been that jury, I'd we kicked like Pixley's mule
against the testimony of that Greaser from over to
Volcano He swore too blasted strong But great
skunks! What's the of up mountain
shaking his fist at judge, jury and sheriff five
miles down tn valley
Turning about he tossed the ax--and with it. it
seemed, all for the fate of William Gates
sixty feet away to the door of the tool house. Then
he set to work, and for the next two hours was
busy enough. Everything gnawable-mattresses,
blankets overalls, gloves, and raw-hlde boots
had to be wirestrung from the rafters of reach
of chpmunks and mice The cutting tools and long
double-ended must be coated with hog fat and
slowed in their racks for six months of uelessness
Twentyfour hours before there had been savage
storm of wind and rain. Down in the valley it had
unroofed barns uprooted trees bowled
and telegraph poles but at the camp Crazy Horse
1t ad done than rip the boards from the
weather end Of the tool house. McCarter had to
make good the damage
1t was while he was doing this, his ears, filled with
the blow and echo of his hammer that spoke
to him, almost at his elbow. He turned to find a
horseman within dozen PAGES The appearance of
and beast went far toward telling the story of
their journey The heavng TANKS of the tall bay
showed that she had been cruelty overridden,
and the man gripping the pommol of his saddle to
steady his seat. He had been lost back along "the
ridge" and the lumberman knew from experience what
that meant.
Am on the road toto Ventrola?'
"On the road to ventrola? Yes. same you're
on the road to Frisco or the North Pole You're on
top Of Crazy Horse Mountain. Ventrolas five miles
for the crow, and six six and half for man on
live horse by the Grade"
But must get there soon-this morning Where
will / strike the Grader
Still bracing himself against the horn of his saddle
he gathered his reins. McCarters face hardened
ming, down, to be in at the death of that pool
devil Gates. You might as we'll stop sweating and
save your breath. You can't get that down tC
the Grade inside Of an hour When you do, Ven
trola be every inch Of five miles away The hang
,ng's TO be at twelve to the minute and now its
He passed the hammer from his right to his lief
hand and drew out his watch.
"Now it's nine minutes eleven"
"Eleven?"
The echoed the word in shrek. He swayeC
In the saddle and, sprnging to the strrup McCarte
tried to help his dismount But the other resisted hi
efforts and fceby dug his spurs into the mares Hanks
"My God I thought it somewhere about
about nine. My watch's down. l forgot hat
watch. I rode from Sacramento--rode all night
My names Tom Y0st Back there in the hills, in tn
this morning, had to ask the way, and black
hearted scoundrel put me on the wrong road. Sine
them / tell you, stranger. I've ridden through hel
But must get there l must! They'll hang him,
tell you and 1--we got his pardon Let go tn
bride. Let goP
Again his voice rose to scream but even Will
he fought to force his spent beast to action, a
pretense Of strength gave way and his eyes filed wit
tears. The young umberman drew him from til
yadde, and he sank helplessly to the ground in tn
shade Of a big pine McCarter brought him waite
and loosened the saddle on the mare
LET your paper"
Yost drew the long envelope from the inner pock'
n his coat and after moment of hesitation, handle
II over 1t was addressed to the sheriff of ii
county Tearing 1t open. McCarter read its wore
If brief commandments which threw the sovereignt