Year: 1873

.sA~N~


interpreter, he wanted to know how
much would sell it for; until, worn
out with his opportunities, at last con-
sented to trade the revolver for one that
he had and six ounces of gold dust into
the bargain. This, you will agree, was
a pretty good trade, even for those
days; but then, really priced the weap-
on very highly, and did not want TO
part with it. Tired with my journey,
and drowsy from drinking, I finally
rolled over in my blankets for sound
sleep, leaving the Mexicans, including
the happy possessor Of my pistol, deeply
engaged in a game of monte.


Despite the effects of the brandy, of
which I had certainly got my full share,
my sleep was disturbed and broken, and
I awoke early next morning, just las the
day was breaking, sick at stomach and
with q racking headache. Looking
around, I could see my companions of
the night, each wrapped in his blanket
Or serapa, and, to judge from their
heavy breathing, all fast asleep. Hav-
ing long days ride before me, and
feeling vexed and disgusted with myself,
1 quietly arose and went out to where
Gringo was doing his best to get
square meal from the stunted and
scorched grass within range of his
tether. To blanket and saddle him
was the work of few minutes, and we
were soon galloping rapidly away, with
out the formality of leave-taking, or SO
much as saying goodbye to a single one
of the party.


I had not gone more than mile or
two, however, before I became con-
scious that some one was riding in hot
pursuit; or at least advancing at fu-
rious gait from the direction of the
camp. The sound of the horses hoofs
rang ominously in my ears. For some
cause or other I felt all was not right,
and apprehended danger. A sharp
bend in the road brought the horseman
into full view, and glance served to
show me it was none other than the
ugly-looNing customer with whom had
snapped pistols the night before. Ny
first impulse was to draw my six-shooter.
But horror! saw instantly it was not
loaded! The next movement was to
strike the spurs into the fanks of poor
Gringo, determined on race for life.
Looking back, the swarthy Mexican
could be plainly seen urging his horse
with lash and spur, while to add to my
terror, he was brandishing my white
handled revolver over his head in
wild and most threatening manner.


We had now entered piece OF woods
which was but little travelled. In fact,
it was nothing more than trail, which
l had resolved to take as cutoff. I
knew, however, that few miles further
We would strike mining camp, and
then should be all right. But poor
Gringo, never much for speed at his
best, and now jaded and broken down,
was no match for the swift-footed
animal in pursuit, and every moment I
could hear the latter's hoofs sound closer
and closer, while my pursuer shouted
savagely in his barbarous lingo. At
last in utter despair of escape in This
way, I threw myself from the saddle,
and sought safety by taking to the
brush. Too late! too late! The Mex
ican, with the hideous scar, and his
horse covered with foam, was upon me
in less than an instant.


Well, boys, imagined it was all
over with Sam Haley, and it has always
been wonder to me that my head did
not burst with the crowd of thoughts
which passed like food through my
brain. But had sense enough left,
and courage enough, too, not to give
up life without one desperate struggle.


So, clutching the old six-shooter,
raised my hand to strike, just as the
big Mexican rushed upon me. When
within few feet of where I stood, how
ever, he suddenly jerked his horse back
upon his launches, and then a wild
laugh rang through the woods, loud
enough to be heard mile away. The
fellows eyes fairly rolled in his head
as he looked at me, while he shouted
and laughed as though his sides would
split.


I confess to being man of sensitive
feeling, and ordinarily don't like to be
laughed at. But this time the coarse
peals of laughter sounded like music in
INV norc. r 1Jou otuppoI oku,,;G II /k,u,