Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 January 1913 — Making a Goat [ARTICLE]

Making a Goat

There were only five men in the smoking car by the time the train had passed Three Fork station, and they were all business men connected with some eastern" or western house. No. 62 was not a popular train, and they took.it simply because each had business engagements or schedules that must be followed. ; The tr&ln had just spun through a wide, arid waste, leaving behind clouds of alkali dust. The five men were grouped together, pretty well talked out on general subjects, and each ready for a little excitement, when one of them pointed out of the window. “See those foothills over there? Just a few months ago, they caught *Red Bert’ there. He held up a train near here, and shot the engineer and an express agent.” Then it was that a, little insignificant chap who had joined them fifty miles back, by his card a representative of a small beef concern, ruffled the nerves of the five travel weary men in a way he had not before. The little drummer, Blake, nodded his bald head, and started in to relate some of his' exploits and went on: "You bet I wouldn’t lay down for no man that walks here in the or anywhere. Most of you fellows are from the east, I take it, and go through to the coast; but I do business round these parts; and I’ve mixed with bad men in bad places, and I’ve never laid down, but I’ve made softie of them do it” He lit a. cigar with a self-satisfied air. The others said little, though one or two winked slyly, but all were of the same inlnd evidently; for when the conversation had ended, thoroughly killed by Blake, they drifted together in another part of the coach, after Blake had gone back into one of the rear coaches. “Say, but that little pup gave me one gigantic pain. If he saw a bad man, he’d crawl down his shirt to get out of sight. He don’t know a gun from a hole in the ground,” one of them exclaimed heatedly. The others concurred. "This is a deadly tiresome ride. Can’t we get up a little excitement, and make him the goat?” another asked, eager for some excitement. They sat in thought for a few moments, then a young member of the group spoke up. “I’ve got it! We ought to make a regular jack of him to pay him for that hot air, and take -some of the swelling out of him. What do you say. to this? One of you go back and fix up klnda rough, you know, some old duds, get a gun, and while the train’s going slow up the ridge, come in and hold the bunch up!” Brownell, an engineer, was to be the robber, because he was carylng a rough suit of clothes for mountain work. The train stopped at a watering station, then began the long hard pull over the Ridge. In the smoker all were reading earnestly except Blake who was looking out the window. Suddenly a door opened y and slammed, and a masked figure stood before them. "Hands sup!" rang out, sharply in.tonated. Every pair of hands went meekly up; Blake’s face was a picture of surprise.

The masked figure came along to each one, and obediently they yielded up their worldly goods. As the robber passed In front of Blake, he, too, gave up his cash. “Aw, come on there Fat," one of the men sang out; "he’s a bad un — give It to him!” A roar of laughter went up. Brownell slipped off his mask, exposing a grin that went from ear to ear. "Shut down on the hot air, Beef," he said; "and don’t come butting in on the conversation of gentlemen unless you’re asked.” Blake was staring out of the window; he turned, and In a flash be stood In the aisle, gimlet-eyed and grim, holding In his hand a black big Colt—npt the toy In his case. "Quick 1 hand over that mon,” his words sissled. / "I want that mon—lt’s my joke, nowl or—” Brownell started at him with an angry oath. The gun spat at him, and the tall figure collapsed Into a seat As If in answer ahead and back of the smoker, echoed sharp reports. Blake stopped and rifled Brownell’s pockets, and then one by one be went to the dazed, dumbfounded men. The train was at a standstill. Blake passed at the end of the car. "That was clever, and I went you one better. I’m the real thing. The next time you meet a little Insignificant cuss like me who wants to entertain you with a few yarns—take off your hats I” He vanished. When out of the confusion camo order, and a doctor had brought Brownell around and dressed the slight wsund on his shoulder, the silent group of men took notes and thought together. "It’s a regular planned hold-up; they had a man In each car. When they reached a certain spot, that was to be the signal, that was why Blake was rubbering out of the window, and throw the bluff that he was scart; but when ho got there he well, you know,” the young fellow said, mournfully.