The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1911-03-21


face. by nature adapted to cheerful
ness and good humor. became set to
the glIise Of gloomy melancholy. Thus
while the frontier admired his deeds
and his prOwess was celebrated IN
print and by word of mouth In many
campfires in the valley of the Bravo.
his heart was sick within him. Only
himself knew of the horrible tighten
ing Of the chest. the dry mouth. the
weakening Of the spine. the agony of
the strung nerves-the never failing
symptoms of his shameful malady.
One mere boy in his company was
wont to enter fray with leg perch
ed lippantly about the horn of his
saddle. cigarette hanging from his
lips. which emitted smoke and original
slogans of clever invention. Buckley
would have given a years pay to at
tain that devil-may-care method.
Buckleys conscience was of the New
England oro& with western adjust
ments. and he continued to get his
rebellious body into as many diff
culties as possible. wherefore on that
sultry afternoon he chose to drive his
own protesting limbs to investigation
Of that sudden alarm that had startled
the peace and dignity of the state
Two squares down the street stood
the Top Notch saloon. Here Buckley
came upon signs of a recent upheaval.
"A few curious spectators pressed about
its front entrance. grinding beneath
their heels the fragments of plate
glass window Inside, Buckley found
Bud Dawson utterly ignoring bullet
wound in his shoulder. while he feel
ingly wept at having to explain why
he failed to drop the blamed masque-
rooter" who shot him.
tYou know, Buck, I'd "a plum got
him first rattle if I'd thought min
ute Come in -masquerootin'. playin'
female till he got the drop and turned
loose I never reached for gun,
thinkin it was sure Chihuahua Betty
or Mrs Atwater or anyhow one of
the Mayfield girls comm a-gunnin',
which they might, liable as not. I
never thought of that blamed Garcia
until''-
"Garciap' snapped Buckley. "How
did he get over here?"
Buds bartender took the ranger by
! the arm and led him to the side door
There stood patient gray burro crop
ping the grass along the gutter. with
load Of kindling wood tied across his
back. On the ground lay black shawl
and a voluminous brown dress.
"Masquerootin' in them things"
called Bud. still resisting attempted
ministrations to his wounds. Thought
he was lady till he give a yell and
winged me"
HE went down this side street." said
the bartender "He was alone. and
he'll hide out till night, when his gang
| comes over. You ought to find him in
that Mexican layout below the depot
He's got girl down. there-Pancha
Sales
How was he armed?' asked Buck
ley.
1.-TWO pearl handled skies and a
knife
keep this for me. Billy" said the
ranger. handing over his Winchester
quixotic. perhaps. but it was Bob
Buckley's way.
As Buckley swung upon the trail he
fell the beginning of the suffocating
construction about his throat. the cold
sweat under the brim Of his hat. the
Old shameful. dreaded sinking of his
heart as it went down. down. down
in his bosom.
/ The morning train of the Mexican
Central had that day been three hours
late. thus failing to connect with the
I. and G. N. on the other side of the
river. Passengers for Los Estados
Unidos grumblingly sought entertain
ment in the little staggering mongrel
town Of two nations, for until the
morrow no other train would come
to rescue hem-grumblingl because
two days later would begin the great
fair and races in San Antoine. Con-
slider that at that time San Antoine
was the hub of the wheel of fortune.
and the names of its spokes were
cattle, wool. faro, running horses and
ozone. Especially did the caterers to
the amusement of the people haste to
San Antoine. Two greatest shows on
earth were already there. and dozens
of smallest ones were on the way.
On side track near the mean little
dobe depot stood private car, left
there by the Mexican train that morn
ing and doomed by an Intellectual
schedule to ignobly await, amid
squalid surroundings. connection with
the next days regular.
The car had been once a common day
coach. but those who had sat in it and
cringed to the conductors hatband
slips would never have recognized 1t in
its transformation. Paint and gliding
and certain domestic touches had lib
Grated it from any suspicion of public
servitude. The whitest of lace cur
tains judiciously screened its windows.
From its fore end dropped in the tor
rid air the flag of Mexico From its
rear projected the stars and stripes
1r,cx t.fx,