The Mena weekly star., 1921-06-09


 The fame of the Pearihunter had preceded him. As he came up from the wharf Into the town, the Mud lien, the one saloon of the place, dis gorged a swaggering. swearing popu- lation that gathered round him. The Boss crew, camped half a mile below Fallen Rock, and the crew of Bull Masterson. camped three miles above, were both there. Besides these, the ODenchain, small steamer plying be- tween the ports of the Wabash, had come in that morning. bringing other river men,
 Caught in the swirl of the crowd, the Pearlhunter and his companion were swept Into the Mud Hen. A hun dred voices clamored to have the pearl laid upon the bar where all could file by and see it. There fell few min utes of comparative quiet while the hungry eyes of the river men were de- vouring 1t. Then followed drinks an round-at the expense of the finder: and--what followed is not a pleasant task to describe.
 The Pearlhunter, remembering that mound of fresh earth at Fallen Rock, kept his head and drank but little. The Boss, on the other hand, "cut tn dog loose" as the river men say. By noon he was singing snatches of half forgotten songs and fighting the In- dian wars all over again. Coming up to where his young friend leaned against the bar. in easy reach of the pearl, still lying upon Its bit of cloth, he threw an arm about his neck and leant hard upon him, something he couldn't have been hired to do when sober.
 Come ere, you fellers. This'n's on me, an it's to tn Pearlhunter, tn whitest man along tn Wabash-an' be d--d t tn man what says e ain't"
 The rabble swarmed about the bar all that were able. Bottle necks gurgled; glasses clinked; red whisky sizzied down hot throats; a few shouted; some swore; others merely laughed foolishly.
 That last drink was the Boss fln- ish. He wilted down into the nearest chair; lurched heavily over upon ta- bie and lay there mumbllng, or laugh ing in high, shrill key; occasionally shouting out a note or two of boat ing song that had been old on the riv- CT for a quarter of century.
 It was early afternoon before the Pearlhunter dared to think seriously of depositing the pearl--before river etiquette permitted him to remove 1t from the bar. He tried to rally the Boss. All he got was further in- stallment of the Indian wars.
 Half disgusted with 1t all, he turned back to the bar and stood leaning his chin upon his hand. A door opened from another part of the building the Mud Hen being an inn. the only Crossing the floor with as little atten- ton to the crowd as If the place had been deserted. he swaggered up to the bar. Perhaps he secretly wished that somebody would get in his way. He had just that air about him.
 The Pearlhunter heard the door open; felt the hush that fell--the hush that always falls upon the rab- hle at the coming of a masterful pres ence. He turned his eyes slowly to- ward the newcomer. His nerves were as steady as the woods make them, but they were not quite proof against what he saw. It was the Man-in-the- Fancy-Vest.
 A look flashed between them. The Pearlhunter fancied the other stiff fened, and he was quite conscious of tightness creeping Into his own spine.
 The Blue Moon was still lying on it's bit of cloth upon the bar. where, among the river men. it was as safe as anything of value ever gets to be fin this avaricious world. He deliber- ateiy picked it up and thrust It into his pocket.
 It was a distinct affront. Blood had run in the Flatwoods for less. The man facing him started; flushed; his right hand dipped toward his hip
 The Pearlhunter's body became like Iron electrified his eyes like fiecks of steel in the fireglow. His hand had closed upon the pistol butt while the others hand was still on It's way.
 "Drawr" he hlssed. Draw! I'd give the Blue Moon If you would l There's twenty-year-old score to set tie between your blood and minel'
 A dead hush fell. The more sober men of the crowd jamrned doors and windows, others huddled against the walls; some had dived under the ta- bles. It was moment of keen ten sion. Not a man breathed.
 The line between life and death Is hair line when two gunmen stand face to face. The chances are split almighty fine. The Man-in-the-F -Fancy-Vest evi- dently decided they were split little too fine. He slowly relaxed the pose to which the dangerous instant had strung him; lifted his hand; folded his arms: turned; leant against the bar; and stood coolly looking the other over.
 The Pearlhunter had been half crouched. He straightened and took his hand away from his hip.
 "when get ready to leave Flat woods I'm expectin' to ask you some