Democratic Sentinel, Volume 13, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 September 1889 — Wanted Tony. [ARTICLE]

Wanted Tony.

A man on horseback rode up to a cabin in the backwoods of Mississippi. An old fellow, with an amusing squint in his eyes, came out and, bidding the visitor good morning, seated himself on a stump. “How long have you lived here?” the stranger asked. “Let me see, now. Bill had the swamp fever in August—l think it was August, but it mout have been later; Sal ran away and married a constable in October —must have been in October, but still I ain’t prepared to bet on it; Bob had dew pizen in November—some of the neighbors low it was later, but lam willin’ to bet on that; wife she ups and dies in December, but I ain’t right shore about the time, still I know that the yaller steer was killed by a failin’ tree in November, an’ it strikes me that wife she died after that. Now, let me see. I’ve been livin’ here about three years.” “You have a peculiar method of reckoning time.” “Yes, but I had to make some sort of shift after I lost my almanick.” “Do you know of a man named Tony Beers ?” “Beers? Let me see. Believe Ido —yes, I know I do.” “Where does he live?”

“Well, you take this road, go about five miles and come to a gum spring. Then you turn to the right, go about two miles and come to the river; cross over, and keep on the right till you come to an old log house. It used to be a church, but it’s a still-house now. Then you take the left-hand road and. that leads you right to Tony’s house. Is he a friend of yourn ?” “No,” the traveler answered. “What sort of a man is he ?” “Oh, he’s a putty stirrin’ feller.” “Is he quarrelsome?” “No; can’t sav that he is in particular.” “Will he fight—that is, would you term him a deperate man ? “Don’t believe I would say he is desperate.” “Do you suppose he would shoot rather than submit to arrest ?” “Don’t think he would. I had a difficulty with him once aud he didn’t try to shoot me.” “You don’t like him very well if you had a difficulty with him, do you?” “No, I don’t.” “Well, then, I’ll tell you my business with him. He stftle a very fine horse in Texas some time ago and he is wanted in that State.” “You don’t say so! I ain’t surprised, though. The reason I didn’t appear to know much about him when you first asked was because I was afraid you was a friend of his. Stole a boss, hah? Well, you can jest slipover there and nab him as easy as slippin’ off a sycamore log. I’d go and help you but I ain’t got nothing to ride.” “I wish you could. I suppose, though, that I can make inquiry along the way ?” “I wouldn’t do that, for he’s got a good many kin folks scattered along and they mout drop on you.” “You are doubtless right; lam glad you cautioned me.” When the stranger had gone the old fellow got off the stump, and, taking up a bridle, said: “Mr. Tony Beers, you’ve got to do some riding now on that fine hoss from Texas. That chump will have a nice wild goose chase while I am getting out of the country in another’ direction. It’s a good thing for some of us that every man wasn’t born smart.”— Arkansaw Traveler.