Year: 1876

earlier days of that gentleman's varie
| gated career. In that time and place /;
| vigorous muscular development, quick
eye and steady nerve We're counted o.
| no less value in the editors equipment
than a powerful mind. The rugged and
impulSive nature Of the inhabitants lee
/ them to a hastinesS in the settlement o.
personal disputes that prOSpered the un
dertakerS even at times when all Other
business pursuits languiShed. In thi,
respect they differed materially from
their more philosophical fellow-citizenS
of the East Here, if, as might happen
in even the best regulated office, an er-
ror crept into the paper, the aggrieveL
party would call quietly and courteous
" state his case, securing as courteous
a correction; there the offended person
walked in behind a pistol and casually
expressed a belief that if the editor was
a rapid writer he might possibly get the
retraction written before he had finished
all the shots in his revolver.


In many cases this aggressive action
aroused equally cOmbative qualities in
the editor, and it not unfrequently hap
pened that one or the other was killed.
These circumstances gradually develop
ed the so-called fighting editor, pic
turesque and powerful character pecu-
liar to American journalism. To him
were referred all questions of dispute
involving personal argument. lie was
the chivalrOus, open-hearted and brave
representative of a class now nearly eX-
tinct, whose character has suffered only
from the reckless exaggerations of local
historians, themselves luXuriant pro-
duets of the same soil.


Col Featherstock was scarcely q
when he entered the office of the Eagle
vile Tri- Weekly T0mabalCb and Mirror,
and he had been there scarcely three
weeks when the summary and scientific
manner in which he elected a powerful
backwoOdsman, who had ventured to
demonstrate against 4 savage personal
reference to himself, determined the
chief to appoint Featherstock to the ardu-
Gus and responsible position of fighting
editor; post which he held for seven
years with honor to himself and credit
to his paper. He was good shot and
similar in his suddenness to lightning.
1t is said that during his stay in the
T0mGhaCE office he killed nineteen men.
In fact the number of those who blum
dered in their dealings with him was so
great that it became 4 current humOr-
Gus saying in the region that Feather
stock kept a graveyard Of his own.


There lived in a neighbOrinc county u
gigantic and bloodthirsty ruflian, who
: Z l.. I g.,.l,+
inc editor Of the TOmabGUb, and, hav-
inc held his own and sometimes more
with every body he had ever met, he re-
solved to 90 to Eagleville and clean out
the Colonel. When he appeared in the
IOmabdlC5 Office he might, but for his
Great size and ferOcious aspect, have
been mistaken for the drummer of a
firearms establishment. All his pockets
were full of assorted weapons, and his
belt looked like a fence with pistol
pickets. He stalked in with an air of
brutal insolence, and said to the Col
oncl:


care you the Tomaba,cE's fighting
editOr?n


The Colonel modestly allowed that
he was.


81 understand you keepaselect bury
ing-ground of your own"


s.Yes," said the Colonel, 81 must
admit that | do find it necessary to keep
a private cemetery"


The ruflian reached down in his right
hand outside coat-pocket, and lifted out
an immense old-fashiOned revolver that
bore Il striking resemblance to a young
Gatling gun. He staggered up to the
Colonel and banged the muzzle of the
pistol down so savagely that it made a
deep dent in the desk, and the words
that accompanied the action were:


"Well, I've come to be buried in that
graveyard"


For the first (and lasD time in his
life the Colonel weakened. 1t seemed
to him that life had never seemed so
sweet as just at that mOment-a senti-
ment fOstered, doubtless, by the knowl-
edge that he was standing face to face
with a man who was fully determined
to kill him. But if for an instant his
courage wavered, his suavity never for
sock him, and he looked up with
smile:


81 am right sorry, my friend, that |
can't accommodate you, but my grave
yard is full. There really isn't room for
another one"


81 was afraid you couldn't find room
in it for me-" said the stranger, and he
wrapped his words in a sneer that made
the Colonel think that life WASH worth
cent. If the stranger had answered
the Colonel with pleasant words, he
might have retired on a great victory,
but that sneer changed the whole pro-
gramme. The Colonel reached under
his desk to the pistol shelf, and brought
out a weapon that looked like the elder
brother of the strangers shOOtinG-irOn.
The expression of his face was changed,
but he went on talking in the same
cheerful, measured way, just as though
without interruption he was adding to
his previous remark:


"But though that one is closed, full,
1 have Just opened a new cemete
ry, and my sexton has dug sample
grave that | should think he ran his
eye deliberately along the stranger from
his feet up to his eyes, and fastened
him there would just fit you"


The strangers grip on himself was
gone. The change had been too sudden
for him. Of all the crowd that the al
tercatiOn had drawn into the room, the
Colonel was first to realize the change
and most accurate in his estimate Of ITS
extent. He proceeded pleasantly and
deliberately:


sNow, l may have conveyed to you
when YOU first came in that this is not
one of my regular slaughtering days;
but at the same time if you insist t"


The Colonel tugged at the hammer Of
his pistol, but the lock was rusty. Prob
ably that rust saved the strangers life /;
he didn't insist, but turned and started
off and before the Colonel could get
his pistol to a full cock the stranger was
on the other side of the door, walking
away, sad and thoughtful.