Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-06-20
The VANGUARD
TALE OF THE OLD FRONTIER
BY Edgar Beecher Bronson
Author Of "Reminiscences Of a Ranchman," "The Red Bhoodeo,"
"n Closed Territory" Etc.
copyrisht, The Frank A. Munsey Co, ITS Fifth Ave, New York City
BY Edgar Beecher Bronson

JUST as the Mexican QdSneu OUT VI tHe
store, emptied both barrels of a shot
gun into him.
It was a marvellous case Of frenzied
hardihood, but, literally weighted
down with lead as the Mexican was
rent and torn by the shots he had re
ceived until his carcass was little bet
ter than a sieve, on down the street
he ran, apparently as strong as ever.
And believe it though the reader
we'll may not, it is the simple truth
that presently he was met by a mar
of my company named Spencer, and
\ shot six times more, with a small
| Colts navy. Then they clinched
Spencer selling the hand that still
held the Ratchet.
Spencer himself was a powerful
man, but he was helpless in the hands
| of the mad Mexican, who lifted him
bodily aloft, hurled him to the ground
and was in the act OF finishing him
with his Ratchet when a gambler ran
up and shot him in the head with q
small derringer. This shot saved
Spencer's life, stunned the. Mexican
sufficiently to give him time to regain
his feet, possess himself Of the Ratchet
and to bury it in the head of his en-
envy.
And at the end of the hour more
that this m~arvelously tenacious out
law lived, his father came into camp
| and told us he could now breathe free
ly for the first time in years, as he
had long feared meeting death at his
sons hands.
It was there at Mesilla that my old
| chum Peach came near getting his
light put out by a military sentence.
He and Cox had joined the cavalry, as
will be remembered, and were the ter,
ror of their troop.
Nothing but their supreme value as
| scouts left them out Of the guard tent
and in active service. Some wild dew
, ilment they were always pulling off,
but their worth on detached service
usually gained them leniency from our
colonel.
But one day Peach got into trouble
dangerously deep again-got into a
dispute in a neighboring village OF
Pueblo Indians, and was struck on the
head and knocked into the live Goals
of a s%moldering mesquit fire.
Before rising he shot and killed the
Indian who had struck him, and then,
as he was scrambling off a bed he
found altogether too hot for longer
occupancy, a squaw sprang at him
with a raised club, and a buck with
a machete, but this pair, too, he drop
ped dead before they got in striking
reach of him.
When, at last, Peach got out of the
To- ,-I1rN IT, ROht No01VrrpH his
blouse was on fire, and his back and
shoulders were badly blistered. But,
Fastening back to his quarters, ne mad
succeeded in shifting to a fresh uni.
form before the roll was beaten that
called us all to fall in for inspection
by the Indians who had followed him
into camp-and demanded justice OF our
colonel.
Peach was promptly identified, but
denied having had any part IN the al
fair. enduring the tortures of his
burns without a grimace or vince OF
pain. and it was only when an old In
dian demanded that his blouse be
stripped off and his blistered back ex-
posed, that further denial became USE
less. and he was ordered into irons.
But when, a few days later, he was
brought to trial before a court mar
tial, and was asked by the judge-ad-
vocate if he wanted a lawyer, Peach
coolly replied that he never had had
any use for lawyers and was too old
to care to begin mixing up with them.
But" the judge-advocate insisted,
"your case is very serious, and you
are certain to receive a heavy SEN
tence If convicted"
That's all right, judge" Peach an
swered: much obliged for the 1nfor'
nation, but still | say I don't want no
iack-leg lawyer; I just want to ask
this court one question, If you Will
give me your word that it will be an
swered truthfully."
Surprised. the court assented, told
him to put his question and 1t should
have a plain, straight answer.
"Well then said Peach, Just
please tell me whatever would you do
if knocked into a id hot mesqu1t
fire and had three crazy Indians
springing at you with machetes and
clubs? Would you lie there to be
hacked up and roasted, or would you
try to fight your way out?'
There was just notulLS 70 sd! ~
that appeal, and old Peach was
promptly exonerated as soon as
enough evidence had been taken to
m%easurably establish the record OF a
formal trial.
But while, as will be evident from
these yarns, our life in those years
was a seldom-broken chain OF TRACE
dies of one sort or another, comedy,
rude to be sure. but none the less side
splitting, was now and then develop
ing to brighten the monotony of ser
vice in camp.
One night Peach. Cox and got a
leave and went into Mesilla for a little
fun-and incidentally to %replenish our
badly depleted e%xchequer, for, what
with scouting and marching, Cox had
had little time to ply his skill at
gambling.
thought more than twice before
%consenting to go with them. but times
had been pretty dull with me, IN !
found myself unable to resist a chance
for another whirl with my old mates
We were not long finding a game,
in Mesilla's leading saloon. Pete
zo~o, 1yonnnr cot In