Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 January 1892 — JACK KIRKUP. [ARTICLE]

JACK KIRKUP.

Graphic Description of n Typical Border Sheriff. There was only one policeman to enforce the law in a territoiy the size of lihode Island. Ho was quite as remurk* able in* his way as any other development of that embryotic civilization. His name was Jack Kirkup, aud all who know him spoke of him as being physically the most superb example of manhood in the Dominion. Six feet and three inches in height, witk the chest neck and limbs of u giunt, his three hundred pounds of weight were so exactly his complement as to give him the symmetry of an Apollo. He was good-look-ing, with the beauty of a rouud-faoed, good-natured boy, aud his thick hair foil in a cluster of ringlets over his forehead and upon his neck. No knight of Arthur’s circle can have been more picturesque a figure in tho forest than this “Jack.” He was as neat as a dandy. He wore high lYiots and corduroy knickerbockers, a sh 'mol shirt aud a sackcoat, and rode his big bay horse with tho ease aud grace of a Skobeleff. He smoked like a fire of green brush, but had never tasted liquor in his life. In a dozen years he had slept more frequently in the open air, upon pebble beds or in trencheg of snow, thun upon ordinary bedding, uud he exhibited, in his graceful movements, his sparkling eyes aud ruddy cheeks, his massive frame and his impertuobable good nature, a dogree of health and vigor that would seem insolent to the average New-Yorker. Now that the railroad was building, he kept ever on the trail, along what was called “tho rigght of way”—going from camp to camp to “jump” -whiskey peddlers and gamblers and to quell disorder —except on pay-day, once a month, when ho staid at Sproat's Landing. The echoes of his fearless behavior and lively adventures rang in every gathering. The general tenor of the stories was to the effect thut he usually gave one warning to evil-doers, and if they did not heed that he cleaned them out.” He cara revolver, but never had used it. Even when the notorious gambler on our border had crossed over into “Jack’s” bailiwick tho policeman depended upon his fists. He had met the gambler and had 1 ‘advised” him to take the cars next day. The gambler, in reply, had suggested that both would get along more quietly if each minded his own affairs, whereupon Kirkup had said, “You hear me: take the cars out of hero to-morrow.” The little community (it was Donald, B. C., a very rough place at the time) held its breathing for twenty-four hours, and at the approach of train-time was on tiptoe with strained anxiety. At twenty minutes before the hour the policeman, amiable and easy-going as ever in appearance, began a tour of tho houses. It was in a tavern that lie found tho gambler. -“You must take tho train,” said ho. “You can’t make me,” replied the gambler. There were no more words. In two minutes the giant was carrying the limp body of the ruffian to a wagon, in which he drove him to jail. There he washed the blood off the.gambler’s face and tidied his collar and scarf. From there the couple walked to tho cars, where they parted amicably. “I had to bo a little rough,” said Kirkup to tho loungers at the station, “because he was armed like a pin-cushion, and TOidn’t want to have to kill him.” —[Harper’s Magazine.