Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 August 1895 — A fateful Partnership. [ARTICLE]

A fateful Partnership.

Even a stranger to the big town walking for the first time tiirough London secs on the sides of the houses many names with which he has long been familiar. His precognition has cost the firms those names represent much money in advertising. The stranger lias had the names before him for years in newspapers and magazines, on the hoardings and on boards by the railroad side, paying little heed to them at the time; yet they have been indelibly impressed on his brain, and when he wishes soap or pills his lips almost automatically frame the words most familiar to them. Thus are the lavish sums spent in advertising justified, and thus are many excellent publications made possible. There was the firm of Danbv & Strong, for instance. The name may mean nothing to any reader of these lines, but there was a time when it was well known and widely advertised, not only in England bat over the greater part of the world as well

Curiously enough, during the time the firm was struggling to establish itself, the two members of it were the best of friends, bat wbej prosperity came to them causes of difference arose, and their relations, as the papers say of w ariike nations, became steamed. Whether the fault lay with John Danhy or with William Strong no one has ever been able to find out. They had mutual friends who claimed that each one of them was a good fellow, but those friends always added that Strong and Dauby did not “hit it off.” Strong was a bitter man when aroused, and could generally be counted upon to use harsh language. Dauby wa3 quieter, but there was a sullen streak of stubbornness in him that did not tend to making up of a quarrel. They had been past the speaking point for more than a year when there came a crisis in their relations with each other that ended in disaster to the business carried on under the title of Danhy & Strong. Neither man would budge,and between them the business sunk to ruin. Where competition is fierce no firm can stand against it if there is internal dissension. Danby held his ground quietly but firmly, Strong raged and accused, but was equally steadfast in not yielding a point. Each hated the other so bitterly that each was willing to lose his own share in a profitable business, if by doing so he could bring ruin on his partner. When Strong found himself penniless, he cursed, as was his habit, and wrote to a friend in Texas asking if he could get anything to do over there. He was tired of a country of law' and order, lie said, which was not as complimentary to Texas as it might huve been. Hut his remark only goes to show what extraordinary ideas Englishmen have of foreign parts. Strong got himself out there somehow, and in course of time became a cowboy. He grew reasonably expert with his revolver,

and rode a mustang as well as could be expected, considering that lie bad never seen such an animal in London, even at the Zoo. The life of a cowboy on a Texas ranch leads to the forgetting of such things as linen shirts and paper collars. Strong’s hatred of Dauby never ceased, but he began to think of him less often. •One day, when lie least expected it, the subject was brought to his mind in a manner that startled him. He was in Galveston ordering supplies for the ranch when in passing a shop which lie would have called a draper’s, but winch was there designated as dealing in dry goods, lie was amazed to see the name 1 ‘Danby & Strong” in big letters at the bottom of a huge pile of small cardboard boxes that filled the whole window. At first the name only struck him as familiar and he came near Asking himself “Where have I seen that before?" It was some moments before he fealized that the Strong stood for the man gazing stupidly in at the plate glass window. Then he noticed that the boxes were guaranteed to contain the famous Piccadilly collar. He read in a dazed manner a large printed bill which stood beside the pile of boxes. These collars, it seemed, were warranted to he the genuine Danby

& Strong collar and the public were warned against imitations. They were asserted to be London made and linen faced, and the gratifying information was added that once a person wore the D. & S. collar be never afterward relapsed into wearing any inferior brand. The price of each box was fifteen cents, or two boxes for a quarter; Strong found himself making a mental calculation which resulted in turning this notation into English money. As he stood there a new interest began to till his mind. Was the firm being carried on under the old name by some one else,or did this lot of collars represent part of the old stock? He had no news from home since he left, and the bitter thought occured to him that, perhaps, Danby had got somebody with capital to aid him in resuscitating the business. He resolved to go inside and get some information. ‘•You seem to have a very large stock of these collars on hand,” he said to the man. who was evidently the proprietor. “Yes,” was the answer, “You see, we are the State agents for this make. We supply the country dealers." “Oh, do you? Is the firm of Danby & Strong still in existence? I understood it had suspended.” “I guess not,” said the man. “They supply us all right enough. Still, I really know nothing about the firm except that they turn out a first-class article. We’re not iu any way responsible for Danbv & Strong; we’re merely agents for the State of Texas, you know,” the man added, with sudden caution. “I have nothing against the firm,” said Strong. “I asked because I once knew some members of it, and was wondering how it was gettiug along.” “Well iu that case you ought to see the Americau representative. He was here this week. That’s why we make such a dismay in the windows; it always pleases-tbe ■’teat. He’s a<»«■ working up the State

and will be back in Galveston before the month is out." “What’s bis name? Do you remember?” “Danby. George Danby, I think. Here’s his card. No, John Danby is the name. I thought it was George. Most Englishmen are George, you know.” Strong looked at the card, but the lettering seemed to waver before his eyes. He made out, however, that Mr. John Danby had an address in New York, and that he was the American representative of Danby & Strong, London. Strong placed the card on the counter before him. “I used to know Mr. Dauby, and I would like to meet him. Where do you think I could find him?” “Well, as I said before, you could see him right here in Galveston, but if you are in a hurry you might catch him at Broncho junction on Thursday night?” “He is traveling by rail, then?” “No, he is not. He went by rail as far as Felixopolis. There he takes a horse, and goes across the prairies to Broncho Junction—a three days’ journey. I told him he wouldn’t do much business on that route, but he said he was going partly for his health, and partly to see the country. He expected to reach Broncho Thursday night.” The dry goods merchant laughed as one who suddenly remembers a pleasant circumstance. “You’re an Englishman, I take it.”

Strong nodded. “Well, I must say you folks have queer notions about this country. Danby. who was going for a three days’ journey across the plains, bought himself two Colt revolvers and a knife half as long as my arm. Now, I’ve traveled all over this State and never carried a gun, but I couldn’t get Danby to believe his route was as safe as a church. Of course, now and then in Texas a cowboy shoots off his gun, but it’s more often his mouth, and I don’t believe there’s more killing done in Texas than in any other bit of laud the same size. But you can’t get an Englishman to believe that. You folks are an awful law-abiding crowd. For my part I would sooner stand my chance with a revolver than a lawsuit any day.” Then the good-natured Texan told the story of the pistol in Texas; of the general lack of demand for it, but the great necessity of having it handy when it was called for.

A man with murder in his heart should not hold a conversation like this, but William Strong was too full of one idea to think of prudence. Such a talk sets the hounds of justice on the right trail, with unpleasant results for the criminal. On Thursday morning Strong set out on horseback from Broncho Junction with his face towards Felixopolis. By noon he said to himself he ought to meet his former partner with nothing but the horizon around them. Beside the revolvers in his belt, Strong had a Winchester rifle in front of him. He did not know but he might have to shoot at long range, and it was always well to prepare for eventualities. Twelve o’clock came, but he met no one, and there was nothing in sight around the empty circle of the horizon. It was nearly two before he saw a moving dot ahead of him. Dauby was evidently unused to riding and had come leisurely. Some time before they met, Strong recognized his former partner and he got his rifle ready. “Throw up your hands!” he shouted, bringing the rifle butt to his shoulder. Danby instantly raised his hands above his head. “I have no money on me," he cried, evidently not . recognizing his opponent. ‘ “You may search me if you like.” “Get down off your horse; don’t lower your bauds, or I fire.” Danby got down as well as he could with his bauds above his head. Strong had thrown his right leg over to the left side of the horse, and, as his enemy got down he also slid to the ground, keeping Danby covered with the rifle. “I assure you I have only a few dollars witli me, which you are quite welcome to,” said Dauby. Strong did not answer. Seeing that the shooting was to be at short range, he ir>ok n six-shooter from his belt, and, cocking it, covered his man, throwing the rifle on the grass. He walked up to his enemy, placed the muzzle of the revolver against his rapidly beating heart, and leisurely disarmed him, throwing Danby’s weapons on the ground out of reach. Then he stood back a few paces and looked at the trembling man. Ilis face seemed to have alreudy taken on the hue of death, aud his lips were bloodless.

“I see you recognize me at last, Mr. Danby. This is an unexpected meeting, is it not? You realize, I hope, that there are no judges, juries, nor lawyers, no mandamuses and no appeals. Nothing but a writ of ejectmeut from the barrel of a pis tol and no legal way of staying the proceedings. In other words, no cursed quibbles and no infernal law.” Danby, after moistening his pallid lips, found his voice. “Do you mean to give me a chance or are you going to murder me?” “I am going to murder you.” DaDby dosed his eyes, let liis bands drop to his sides, and swayed gently from side to side as a man does on the scaffold just before the bolt is drawn. Strong lowered his revolver aud fired, shattering one knee of the doomed man. Dauby dropped with a cry that was drowned by the second report. The second bullet put out liis left eye, and the murdered man lay with his mutilated face turned up to the sky. A revolver report on the prairies is short, sharp and echoless. The silence that followed seemed intense and boundless, as if no where, on eaitli there was such a thing as sound. The man on his back gave an awesome touch of the eternal to the stillness.

Strong, now that it was all over, began to realize 'his position. Texas, perhaps, paid too little heed to life lost in fair fight, but she bad an uncomfortable habit of putting a rope around the neck of a cowardly murderer. Strong was an inventor by nature. He proceeded to invent his justification. He look one of Dauby’s revolvers and fired two shots out of it into the empty air. This would show that the dead man had defended himself at least, and it would be difficult to prove that be had not been the first to fire. He placed the other pistol and knife in their places in Danby’s belt. He took Danby’s right hand while it was still warm and closed the fingers around the butt of the revolver from which be bad fired, placing the forefinger ou the trigger of the eocked six-shooter. To give effect and naturalness to the tableau he was arranging, for the next traveler by that trail, he drew up the right knee and put the revolver and closed hand on it as if Danby, had been killed while just about to fire bi 3 third shot. Strong, with the pride of a true artist in his work, stepped back a pace or two for the purpose of seeing the effect ofhis work as a whole. As Danby fell, the: back of his head had struck a lump of soil or a tuft of grass, which threw the chin forward on the breast. As Strong looked at his victim his heart jumped, and a sort of hypnotic fear took possession of him and paralyzed action at its spurce. Danby was not yet dead. His right eye was open and it glared at Strong with a malice and hatred that mesmerized the murderer aud held him there, although he felt rather than knew be was covered by the cocked revolver he had placed iu what he thought was

a dead band. Danby’s lip* moved, but no •ound came from them. Strong could Dot take his fascinated gaze from the open eye. He knew be was a dead man it Danby had strength to crook his finger, yet be could not take the leap that would bring him out of range. The fifth pistol shot rang out and Strong pitched forward on his face. The firm of Danby & Strong was dissolved.—Black and White.