Connecticut western news., 1920-12-09
FLOSS" TALK WON
When Brave Men Forgot Bitter
 ness of Civil War.
Yank" Lived to Shake Hands at Close of the Strife.

Capt. W. S. Tough was one of the ourstanding-I might almost say TO- mantic-characters of those stirring times, since the story of his life would make fiction tame, writes Frank s. Hastings in the Breeders Gazette. He stood over six feet, built in proportion, 8 born horseman and 8 dead shot. He was in the secret service of the gov ernment during the Civil war and a United States marshal immediately following, when the reaction from war and the great flow westward brought him into action with outlaws and bad men generally. He became one of the famous peace officers of the border through his cool, picturesque courage. saw much of him as a boy on his breeding farm near to my fathers. and later Gin 188O) In Denver, where he owned a horse sale barn, making a speciality of single and team roadsters. much in demand at that time. I was lonely, and he invited me to spend my spare time exercising his horses on the Denver speedway, under instructions not to let anything pass me. He had genius for mating teams with striking effects, producing matched, mismatch- ed, showy gaits and hobby turnouts. All his drivers dressed the part. When he drove himself-and he often drove it was worth going to see. He was the best driver I have ever known. Often when we spent the evening in his office he would grow reminiscent. recall one of his stories.
 ' In the war he was on secret service on some important mission in Missouri, near Bee Creek. He was captured by band of guerrillas. It was nearly dusk when they reached camp. He was turned over to drumhead court martial The trial lasted few min utes; the verdict was, Spy; penalty, death Turning to him, the leader said: 'Yank, would you rather be shot before or after supper?" to which the captain replied, T always did think lot of my belly" adding, Say, 'Reb,' that dun hoss of yours Is the best I ever saw. Suppose you make 1t sun- rise; I'd like to die looking at him." "All right" said the "Reb"; "come and eat1 At supper the talk drifted onto horses, and the quality of the Missouri horse, then, as now, their pride. 'Reb," said the captain. Eff you ever miss than dun hoss you can just figure my spirit has got astride and gone with him."
 They tied the captain to a log, with the "Reb" on guard; the fire burned down to the faint glimmer of coals through ashes, and he fell asleep, awakening to find his hands and feet free and the sentry nodding over the smoldering fire. He crawled behind a bush, took off his shoes, car rying them in his hand, and made his getaway. Ten minutes later | shot rang out in the woods, followed shortly by more shots. When morn ing came he hid for that day. The next morning found him at the Mis- souri river, which he swan to the Kansas side. After the war the cap tain hunted up the 'Reb," gave him a mighty good horse, and big boot, for the dun. "Yank." said "Reb." that hoss talk of yours did the work; I thought 1t was a shame to shoot lad who loved a hoss like you did, and after all, you was only doing your duty" AS he ended his story, the captain said, '"They call me 'nutty' about horse, but every time I look at my wife and babies think, after all, hoss gave them to me, and, next to them, a hoss comes first"