The Tomahawk. [volume] (White Earth, Becker County, Minn.) 1903-192?, 1916-08-31

| ana DdCk ana IL is mighty nara 10 ulC
it. That's the way with Sam rockin'
the baby, reckon Anyway the buck
shot just got Sam in the back part
Of his head and didn't kill him. Next
day his old woman picked the buck
shot out with a pocket knife because
the doctor was afraid to go. Now Sam
is as we'll as he ever was and he amt
changed his mind about the stills.
Him and me reported two of them
last week."
This story was about in accordance
with the information Gard received
from Washington. The revenue agents
were too well known to work effectual
ly in the Cumberlands any more, so
the department of justice had taken
over the case. The murderers and
those who attempted murder should
be apprehended.
AS the wagon wound along the coun-
try road Todd called the special
agents attention to the report of a
rifle from hillside to the right. Soon
another gun was discharged further
ahead and third still further on.
This, the liveryman said, was a sys-
tenn of signals that told of their pres
ence.
A little further along the road
wound into hollow down which
| flowed brook Out of the brush in
| this hollow stepped the form Of a
| mountaineer with rifle across his
arm. Todd drew up his team.
What have you got there?" asked
the man in the road.
Summer boarder," said Todd.
"Where's he goin'?" was the query.
"To Tenney's," answered Todd.
The mountaineer walked around to
the back of the wagon where Cards
little wicker grip was carried. With
out a word he opened the grip and
carefully examined everything in it.
Seemingly satisfied he waved per-
mission for them to proceed.
Young feller," he said to Gard in
| parting, "you are in durn bad COM
pany. You can't never tell whether
you will git back when you start out
with that skunk
To which Todd grinned as he drove
on.
They amt never made the bullet
that'll kill me-" he said.
It was three days later that Billy
Gard, squirrel rifle on his shoulder,
walked into the clearing about the
| house of Sam Lunsford, the man who
had survived the charge Of buckshot
| in the back Of his head. The Luns-
ford house consisted Of one log room
with a lean-to addition at the back.
There was a clearing Of some thirty
acres where grew a most Indifferent
sprinkling Of corn and cotton. There
was crib for the corn, a ramshackle
wagon, a fleabitten gray horse and
some hogs running wild in the woods.
Such was the Lunsford estate, presid-
ed over by this huge mountaineer and
| to which his eleven children were
heir. Seldom did an echo Of the out
| side world reach this home in the
woods Not member of the family
was able to read. Every Sunday Sam
Lunsford drove the f1eabitten gray or
walked twelve miles to a little noun
tain church where was preached a
gospel of hell fire and birthstone. He
was hated by his neighbOrs and con-
stantly in the shadow of death. Yet
he went unswervingly on the way
Of his duty in accordance with his
lights.
Gard already had the measure OF
himself than he put his business up to
the mountaineer, cold turkey" as the
agents say when they L y all the cards
on the table. Would Lunsford help
the government in getting the facts
that would bring the murders of Tom
Reynolds and the men who shot him,
to Justice? Lunsford would do all he
could.
Whom do you suspect" the agent
asked.
There are so many of them agin
me-" said Lunsford, that it is hard to
tell which ones done it."
"Will you show me just how you
were sitting when you were shot?"
The mountaineer placed the rock
ing chair in front of the fire directly
between a hole in he window and a
spot in the opposite wall where the
buckshot had lodged themselves, pep
pering up a surface two feet square.
Thus was it easy to trace the fight
of the shot through the room. The
special agent examined both window
pane and wall.
Gould you tell where the man stood
when he fired?" he asked.
EYES," said Lunsford. Il looked for
tracks next day. Let mo show you.
He led the way into the yard and
there pointed out stout peg which
had been driven into the ground not
a dozen feet from the window.
The tracks came up to there and
stopped" he said.
Did you measure the tracks,
asked the special agent.
The mountaineer had done SO and
had cut a stick just the length Of the