The Kendrick gazette. [volume] (Kendrick, Idaho) 1892-1968, 1921-09-23
CHAPTER I.


S. L. Limited at blistered board sta
ton in Death valley, California, he
had definitely resolved to do certain
things. To begin, he would invade the
dining car at the first call to dinner
and order approximately twenty dol
lars worth of ham and eggs, which
provender is. as all who know will
certify, the pinnacle of epicurean de-
light to an old sour-dough coming out
of the wilderness with healthy bank
roll and healthier appetite.
Following the ham and eggs, Mr..
Webster planned to saturate himself
from soul to vermifOrm appendix with
nicotine, which he purposed obtaining
from tobacco with nicotine in it. 1t
was week since he had smoked any
thing with an OdOr even remotely like
tobacco, for the August temperature in
Death valley is no respecter Of moist
ure in any man or his tobacco. Upon
arrival in Salt Lake City his spree
would really begin. Webster designed
chartering a taxicab and proceeding
forthwith to hotel where he would
engage a sunny room with bath, fill
the batEtub, climb blithely in and soak
for two hours at least, for it was near
ly eight months since he had had
regular bath and he purposed making
the most of his opportunity. His long
drawn additions at length over, he
would don a silken dressing gown and
slippers, order up barber and pro-
coed to part with enough hair and
and upon the completion of his ton
serial adventures he would encase his
person in Il suit of mauve-cOlored silk
pajamas, climb into bed and stay
there for forty eight hours, merely wax
ing long enough to take another bath,
order up periodical cOnsignments of
ham and eggs, and incidentally, make
certain that friendly side-wnder or
chuckwalla hadn't crawled under the
blanket with him.
SO much for John Stuart Webster's
plans. Now for the gentleman himself.
No one-not even the Pullman porter,
shrewd judge of mankind that he was
could have discerned in the chrysalis
that tagged the Limited the butterfly
of fashion that was to be. AS the
ebony George raised the vestibule plat
form, opened the car door and looked
out, he had no confidence IN the lean,
sun-baked big man standing by the
train. Plainly the fellow was not a
first class passenger but wandering
prospectOr, for he was dOg-dirty, a ruin
of rags and hairy as tarantula. The
only clean thing about him was
heavy calibered automatic pistol of the
army type, swinging at his hip.
DAY coach an tourist up in front"
TIE knight of the whiskbroOm an
nounced in disappearing tones and
started to close down the platform.
$50 l perceived" John Stuart Web
ster replied blandly. 81 also observed
that you failed to employ the title
sir when addressing white man.
Put that platform back and hop out
here with your little stool, you saddle
colored son of Senegambia, or I'll
make you hard porter to CATCH"
"Yassah. yassah!" the porter sput-
tered, and obeyed instantly. Mr.. Web
ster handed him disreputable-looking
suitcase and stepped aboard in state.
only to be informed that there wasn't
a vacant first-class berth on the train.
Eyes, know I'm dirty" the late ar
rival announced cheerfully, "but still,
as Bobby Burns once remarked, "a
60 o.
unsanitary."
I'm very sorry" the conductor re-
piled perfunctorily and e2deavored to
pass on. but Webster secured firm
grip on his lapel and frustrated the es-
cape.
derer declared. mot one little bit
You're only apprehensive. However,
you needn't be. There Is no wild life
on me, brother, assure you"
But tell you, the train is full up
You'll have to rOost in the day coach
or the tourist. I'm very sorry"
Nevertheless, despite your deep grief,
something tells me you're spoofing, so
while must. of necessity, accept your
suggestion. said acceptance will be but
temporary. In about two hours, young
fellow, you're going to make the alarm
ing discovery that you have bats in
your belfry." And with whiskery grin
which. under the circumstances, was
charming in its absolute freedom from
malice, Mr.. Webster departed for tie
day coach.
Two hours later the conductor found
him in the aforementioned day coach.
engaged in mild game of poker with
a mule-skinner, q Chinaman, an aged
prospector, and half-breed Indian,
and waited until Mr.. Webster, on a
bob-tailed flush, bluffed the Chinaman
out of dOllar-and-a-half pot.
"Are you Mr.. John S. Webster?'
"Your assumption that L am that
person is so eminently correct that 1t
would be waste of time for me to
dispute it," Webster replied quizzical
ly. However. just to prove that