The Religious Life of the Zu?i Child

peace-loving citizen would have been glad enough to dispense with. To say that life then and there was insecure is to describe altogether too feeb

with it. Indeed, it was a downright bad plan to carry one unless you were handy. For with gunning-the game most played, if not precisely the most popular-every one was supposed to be familiar with the rules and to know how to play;

fessional "bad men"-and this was a profession then-was comparatively small. It was due rather to the fact that every one, no matter how peaceable his inclinations, was compelled to carry arms habitually for self-defence, for the Apaches were constantly raiding outside the to

d take a corncob and a lightning bug and make him run himself to death trying to get away." It is clearly unnecessary to explain why the few men of this sort in the community did no

istol entered into the pastimes of the c

old friends, made up the game every day. All had varying success but one, who lost every day. And, come to think of it, his luck varied

ppened that on this particular day one of the players had brought in a friend, a stranger in the town, to join the game, When the loser came in, the

'm loser in it, an' a heavy one, for exactly thirteen days, and these boys all understand that the first son of a gun I find I can b

ps, the thirteenth was as bad f

nhood, men inured to danger and reckless of it. In the early eighties no faint-heart came to Grant County unless he blundered in-and any such were soon burning the shortest trail out. These men were neve

arted, and all the we

re working overtime, they were available for the few who had any use for them; second, gambling, at monte, poker, or faro; and, third, figuring how to slip through the next twenty-four hours without getting a heavi

ere somewhat limited in variety, in the matter of interest

local points of view, for always it is the most unusual that most alarms, as when one of my cowboys "allowed he'd go

in', an' reckonin' whar that'd happen a feller might ketch fire anywhere i

owboy's most notable and most admirable traits has not been emphasized so much as it deserves: I mean his downright reverence and respect for womanhood. No real cowboy ever wilfully insulted any woman, or lost a chance to resent any insult off

my purse which I cannot afford to lose;

y came t

old up a train an' kill any feller that puts up a fight, but nary one o

ther this was true or not I do not know. Certain it is that he was a reckless dare-devil, always foremost in the little amenities cowboys loved to indulge in when they came to town such as shooting out the light

Ultimately his curiosity got him into trouble, as it does most people who indulge it. His first display of

k top hat was like a red flag to a bull, so much like it in fact that the hat was usually lucky to escape with less than half a dozen holes through it. But here in these knee-bree

ically when a bystander is shooting at the dancer's toes. Indeed, the ball was expected to open early. To every one's surprise and disappointment, it did not. Instead, Kit dropped in behind the

ry. At last, when he could stand it no longer, he walked up to the tenderfoot, detained him gently by the sleeve

sed, but Kit's sympathies for a man condemned to such a juven

, prolonged his customary three-hour's turn at night guard round the herd to an all-night's vigil. He took it as a matter of course. And his rope and running iron were ever ready, and his weather eye alert for a chance to catch and decorate with the X brand any stray cattle that ventured within his ra

ve had been a heavy one, the herd was well grazed and watered in the late afternoon, the night was fine; and so the twelve hundred or fifteen hundred cattle in the herd were lying down quietly, giving no trouble to the night herders. Kit, therefore, was joggin

press empty its load of passengers for supper, a crowd of well-dressed men and women, the latter brillia

m 'Frisco. No lesser place could possibly turn out such magnificence. Then Kit let his fancy wa

im more'n about onct unless he was well fixed for dough. Reckon they don't drink nothin' but wine out thar, nor eat nothin' but oysters. An' wine an' oysters costs money, oodles o' money! That's the worst of it! S'pose it'd take more'n a

felt the want of money. His monthly pay of thirty-five dollars enabled him to sport a pearl-handled six-shooter and silver-mounte

w straying out into the darkness, would have been sufficient to divert and probably save him; but nothing happened. The night contin

brands a few mavericks an' gits a start on my own? No use, Kit; that's too slow! Time you got a proper roll you'd be so old the skeeters wouldn't even bite you, to say nothin' of

les of his lean, square jaws worked nervously. His rig

s. Them fellers what rides on it's got more'n they've got any sort o' use for. What's the matter with makin' 'em whack up with a feller! 'Course they'll kick, an' thar'll be a whole passle o' marshals an' sheriffs out after you, but what o' that? Reckon Old Blue'l

'Frisco. Won't them tenderfeet beller when they hears the guns a-crack

r on the unbranded spoils of the cattle range, it was no

ideration. Not so with Kit. Cowboy life compels a man to think quickly, and often to act quicker than he finds it convenient to think. The hand skilled to catch the one possible instant when the wide, ci

ng outfit. They were Mitch Lee and Taggart, two white cowboys of his own type and temper, and George Cleveland, a negro, known as a desperate fello

r Winchesters on their saddles, mounted their favorite horses, and rode away. They met in Silver City, coming in singly. There they

ving the Gila, Kit and his three compadres rode into Gage. One or two significant passes with a six-shooter hypnotized the station agent into a docile tool. A dim red light glimmered away off in the east. As the minutes passed, it gre

action

he station. But seeing the agent surrounded by a group of armed men, the engineer shut off the air and sought to throw his throttle open. His pu

chorus of shrill cowboy yells broke out, that te

h, the party soon reached the main travelled road up the Miembres, in whose loose drifting sands they knew their trail could not be picked up. Still forcing the pace, they reached the rough hill-country east of Silver early in the night, cached

s old sheriff of Grant County. But of clue there was none. Naturally the station agent had come safely out of his trance, but with that absence of memory of

ain merchant of Silver came from the Kansas town where this paper was published. Hurrying back to Silver, Whitehill saw the merchant, who identified the paper and said that he undoubtedly was its only subscriber in Silver. Asked if h

hitehill was quick to fo

ded to want to hire a co

some one else? By th

vel

Gila dis week an' gone ober

him, told him his pals were arrested and had confessed that they were in the robbery

r. Mitch Lee done it, an' him an' Taggart an

pletely by surprise, Joy, Taggart, and Lee were captured on the Gila and jailed, al

sed, an escape was planned and executed. Two other prisoners, one a man wanted in Ari

y stable, seized horses, mounted, and rode madly out of town, firing at every one in sight. In Silver in those days no gentleman's trousers fitted comfortably without a pistol stuck in the waist

art was the driver of an express wagon, a man named Jackson, who cut his horse loose from the traces, mounted bareback, and flew out of town only a few hundred yards behind the prisoners. Six others, led by Charlie Shannon and La Fer, were not far behind Jackson. The men of this party

ith his pistol, while the fugitives were returning the fire and throwing

einforcements, and began shelling the thicket and surrounding it. A few minutes later Whitehill rode up with seven more men, and the thicket was effectually surrounded. To the surprise of every one, a hot fire poured into the thicket failed to bring a single answering shot. Whitehill was no man to waste ammunition on such chance firing, so he

to attack, but the pursuers did not hesitate. Dismounting, they advanced on foot with rifles cocked, but with all the caution of a hunter trailing a wounded grizzly. The negro opened the ball at barely twenty yards' range with a shot that drove a hole th

. Shot after shot they exchanged, until presently a ball struck the earth in front of Taggart's face and filled his eyes full of gravel and sand. Bli

s empty, or I'd

tch Lee. In a few minutes, shot thr

quick,

d been separated from his party, and La Fer wa

n to town and get a wagon to bring in the dead and wou

, led by a shyster lawyer, joined him and swore they proposed to lynch the prisoners. This was too much f

our lives to capture these men. You men have not seen fit, for what motives we will not discuss, to help us. Now,

eturn escor

hies had not drifted with it when he learned its cause. His friend La Fer lay dead, filled full of buckshot by Kit before W

ere was little discussion. Only one opi

e prisoner wanted in Ar

y five feet long were stripped from the horses, knotted round the prisoners' necks, and fastened to the limb of a juniper tre

he leader and the man who shot La Fer, and for days the hills were full of men hunting him. Hiding in the rugged, thickly timb

s that first possessed him, later mastered him, and then drove him into crime, bound to repossess himself of his hidden treasure and go out to see the world, Kit would not l

ly outcast, craving the sound of a human voice, believing Racketty at least neutral, Kit hailed him and approached. As he drew near, Racketty covered him with his rifle and ordered him to surrender

years ago, having gained three years by good behavior

hatever may be his curiosity to "do 'Frisco proper," it is not likely he will make any mor