The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1913-02-07
THE TRIPLE ALLIANCE.
By Morgan Robinson.

49, stens of the Criminal Court build
;ne Thev we're dressed in store
.e and, while they were alike in
tnne vet they were unlike: one could
~ ~ he mistaken for the other. But
.hsv had the same facial angle; they
were of about the same age, thirty
Eve. each was tall, square shouldered,
and erect. and each had the same
curious gait that betokens long ex-
nerience in the saddle. The man to
the right had gray eyes; the one to
the 1eft-black. The one to the right
was iubilant of face; the other down.
cast and chagrined. As they reached
the sidewalk a man hurried out of
the crowd and confronted them. His
face was perspiring and he breathed
hard.
1--WE got you, Billp he said, laying
his hand on the shoulder of the down.
cast on The left. you're my prisoner!"
mot much, he isn'tr" answered the
man to the right. "He's mine. Here's
proof" He turned. disclosing the
butt of large pistol under his coat
ooh, I've got that kind of proof
too," rejoined the newcomer, stepping
back and eying them both with anger
and disgust in his face. 1t was the
face that must have been unused to
such emotional expressions; it was
smooth shaved, pink, and healthy,
with keen blue eyes, the face of
man not yet grown up, or of a boy
matured before his time. He was of
about middle age, size and built as
the other two, and with the same
horseman's gait.
"Who are you," he asked, "and
what have you got that man for?"
Pm Jack Quincy, Deputy Sheriff of
Maricopa County, Arizona; and I've
got this man, Bill Rogers, for stage
robbery. Who are your"
"Im Walter Benson, of the North
west Mounted Police, and want this
man for murder. I've just come from
Washington with extradition papers,
and don't see how you can hold
him."
Possession is nine points of the
law in this country, Mr.. Benson, and,
while l only went to Albany for ex-
tradition papers, they're good. Left
'em inside with the Judge"
I'LL contest this case. I've come
down from Manitoba for this man.
My chief put the New York police
onto him. and he's our meat. Why.
Man, we want him for murder, a CAPT
tai offensel"
"But I've got him for robbing the
Wincekenburg stage, capital offense
too"
While this confab was going on the
prisoner had been looking keen
had caught the eye of
nearby policeman, then had signi6-
GENTLY reached his hand behind him
and patted his hip pocket while nod
ding almost impercegtibly toward TIL;
another policeman by the same sign
language, and at this juncture they
about" demanded one passing his
hands rapidly up and down and around
the rear clothing Of Quincy, while
the other as quickly "frisked" Benson
Got gun. l see, Got licensed"
Eyes, where's yer license? repeat
er the first officer. reaching >for
Quincey's collar.
And now surprising uhing happen
ed. First, Bill Rogers, wanted for
stage robbery and murder, took to
his heels and sped down the street.
Then Benson wriggled under The po-
liceman's grasp, and by some light
ing-like trick of jiu jitsu, sent him
sprawling on his back, his limbs wav-
ing in the air like the legs of a turtle
similarly upset. Then Benson started
after Rogers. Quincy tried no jiu
jitsu; instead he whipped out his gun,
long heavy Colts forty-6ve, and
jammed it into the policeman's face
before the hand had reached his COL
lar. Involuntary the officer started
back, away from that murderous blue
tube. and before he could recover from
his surprise Quincy had started after
Benson. Then the policeman follow
ed Quincy, and his fallen compatriot
picking himself up, followed after;
but neither for long; they were fat.
and these men of the West could
run as well as ride.
Down Center street went the chase,
pursued and pursurers bowling over
pedestrians who got in the way,
lodging in front of and around trolley
cars as Rogers led the way diagonal1y
across the street and reached Park
Row, Benson about four hundred feet
behind and Quincy as far in the rear
Of Benson. Across Park Row went
Rogers, and down the eastern walk
to Catherine street, into which he
turned, Benson after him and Quincy
keep in Benson in sight. Rogers
seemed to know where he was going
He raced down Catherine street into
Cherry, and when halfway to the next
corner burst into a small saloon,
whose proprietor, . large, beetle
browed man, stood behind the bar.
Sailors boarding house, isn't itr
painted Rogers. "Hide me and ship
me! I've been to sea. North America
is too hot for me-"
Yes responded the proprietor.
with quick comprehension. "Into that
back room and up the stairs. Hide
anywhere. I'll stall the police"
But before Rogers could reach the
back room Benson burst in, his blue
eyes flashing with excitement. and In
MS hand a revolver As large and heavy
as Quincy's
Hold, on. RilIw he manned. "Put