The Ozark spectator., 1916-11-01

 porch and sidewalk. Upon it, and leaning against & hitching-rail, were men of varying ages, most of them slovenly in old jeans and slOuched SOmbreros. Some were booted, belted, and spurred. No man there wore q coat, but all wore vests. The guns In that group would have outnumbered the men.
 It was a crowd seemingly too lazy to be curious. These men were idlers what else, perhaps. was easy to con lecture. Certainly to this arriving stranger. who flashed keen eye over them, they wore an atmosphere never associated with work.
 Presently n tall man, with a droop- | ing, sandy mustache, leisurely detach- ed himself from the crowd
 "Howdy, stranger" he said. The stranger had bent over to loosen the cinches he straightened up and nodded. Then: I'm thirsty! That brought broad smile to faces | It was characteristic greeting. One | and all trooped after the stranger into l the hotel. It was a dark, ill-smelling l barn of a place, with bar as high as a short mans head. A bartender with scared face was serving drinks. Line up. gents" said the stranger. They piled over one another to get to the bar, with coarse jests and oaths | and laughter. None of them noted that the stranger did not appear so thirsty as he claimed to be. In fact, though he went through the motions, he did not drink at all. My names Jim Fletcher" said the | tall man with the dropping. sandy mustache. He spoke laconically, never | theless there was tone that | showed he expected to be known. Something went with that name. The 1 stranger did not appear to be i'm pressed.
 My name might be Blazes, but it ain't," he replied. What do you call this burg?"
 Stranger, this heah me-tropoles bears the handle Ord. Is thet new to youf"
 He leaned back against the bar. and now his little yellow eyes. clear as l crystal, fiawless as Il hawks, fixed on 1 the stranger. Other men crowded | close, forming q circle, curious, ready to be friendly or otherwise, according to how the tall interrogator marked the newcomer. Sure, Ord's q little strange 10 me. | Of the railroad some, ain't 1t? Funny trails hereabouts."
 How fur was you goin'?"
 "I reckon l was goin' as far as l could" replied the stranger, with hard laugh.
 His reply had subtle reaction on that listening circle. Some of the men ex- changed giances. Fletcher stroked his dropping mustache. seemed thoughtful. bct lost something of that piercing scrutiny.
 "Wal. Ord's the jumpin'-off place. he said, presently. Sure you've heerd of the Big Bend country?"
 II sure have, an was maxim tracks fer it." replied the stranger. Fletcher turned toward a man in the outer edge of the group. "Knell, l come in heah." 1 This individual elbowed his way Tn and was seen to be scarcely more than a boy, almost pale beside those bronz- cd men, with a long, expressionless face, thin and sharp. "Knel, this heah's-" Fletcher wheeled to the stranger. "What d you call yourSelr?"
 "Td hate to mention what I've been cailin' myself lately"
 This sally fetched another laugh. ! The stranger appeared cool, careless, ! indifferent.
 Kner stepped up, and 1t was easy 1 to see, from the way Fletcher relin- quiShed his part in the situation, that | a man greater than he had appeared upon the scene,
 Any business here?" he Queried, ! curtly When he spoke his expression | less face was in strange contrast with | the ring. the quality, the cruelty of l his voice. This voice betrayed an ab- sence of humnr, of friendlness, of heart.
 Nope" replied the stranger. | "Know anybody hereaboutsi" Nary one"
 "Jest ridin' through?"
 Yep
 "Slopin' fer back country, chi" There came a pause. The stranger appeared to grow a little resentful and drew himself up disdainfully.
 "Wal, considerin' you-all seem so 1 damn friendly an oncuriouS down here in this Big Bend country, don't mind suyin' yes-I am in on the dodge" he replied, with deliberate sarcasm.
 From west of Ord-out Fl Paso way, mebbeT' 1 Sure"
 l "A-huh Thet so?" Knell's words cut the mir, stilled the room. You're from way down the river. Thet's what l they say down there-'on the dodgc.' Stranger. you're a liar!' With swift clink of spur md