Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 89, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 April 1914 — A Man in the Open by Roger Pocock [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A Man in the Open by Roger Pocock

r Illustrations Eg \ Ellsworth Youig )

SYNOPSIS. The story opens with Jesse Smith relating the story of his birth, early life in Labrador and of the death of his father. Jesse becomes a sailor. His mother marries the master of the ship and both are lost in the wreck of the vessel., Jesse becomes a cowboy in Texas, He marries Polly, a singer of questionable morals, who later is reported to have committed suicide. Jesse becomes a rancher -and moves to British Columbia. Kate Trevor takes up the narrative. Unhappily married she contemplates suicide, but changes her mind after meeting Jesse. Jesse rescues Kate from her drink-maddened husband who attempts to kill her. Trevor loses his life in the rapids. Kate rejects offers of grand opera managers to return to the stage and marries Jesse. Their married life starts out happily. Kate succumbs to the pleadings of a composer to return to the stage and runs away with him. She rescues Widow O’Flynn from her burning house, is badly burned herself and returns home, where Jesse receives her with open arms. Cattle thieves appear In the neighborhood. Jesse asks Kate to go to a place of safety. To his Joy she refuses. Jesse resumes the narrative. He calls on /neighbors and plans to capture the robbers. Kate la rescued from the hands of the bandits. CHAPTER Vll!.—Continued. Seems to be scratches on the smooth side of this paper, sort of reminding; me that Bull has a fountain-pen sticking out of his vest pocket If he’s been writing with milk, I’d warm the paper—but no, we use canned milk, and haven’t got any either. I’ve heard faintly somewheres of things wrote in spittle, so I pours on a bottle of ink, and rinses the paper in the water-butt Yes, there’s the message plain as print "Gun to hand, but cartridges wrong size, no good. Get .45. Billy to wait with ponies under nearest pine N. of Save, when plough above N. Star. Send more gum for chief’s wound. — Bull.” Billy was mounting at the door to put out for solitude, but since he knows I can’t miss under two hundred yards, he was persuaded 4o come into the cabin. There I read him some of the etiquette about keeping his temper and not using coarse language. Also I told him politely what I thought of him, and where he'll go when he dies. He waited, stroking the little fur on his muzzle, till I got through, looking so damned patient with me that I came near handing him one in the eye. “You invited these robbers to my grass?” He nodded. "Thanks to you, my wife had a gun muzzle screwed around in her ear.” "Bet she squinted!" said Billy. If I lose my temper, I can’t shoot, and Billy knew that well. “She’s up agin it good and hard," said he. “Agin what?” “Making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear." “You lop-eared, mangy, pig-faced, herring-gutted son of a—” “From the 'Etiquette?’ ’’ asked Billy. "I don’ think much of you, anyway. Mother ain’t got no use for you either, or any of the neighbors, you old cow thief!” Now if Billy talked so big as all that, it must-be to astonish his mother. So she must be at the keyhole, and sure enough I heard her grind her stump with the backache from stooping down. Happens Mrs. Smith has a garden squirt which it holds a gallon, so while I kep’ young Billy interested with patches'of etiquette, I took off the hose, filled the squirt, and through the key-hole into the widow’s ear. At that she lifted up her voice and wept. Feeling better, I resumed the conversation. “Billy," sez I, smooth as cream, while I filled the squirt, ''on the shelf there you’ll find a little small

bottle." In nry dim way I aimed to get him excited, and talkative, divulging secrets with all his heart Then afterward I’d like out of mischief. “Get your bottle yourself ” says he, sort of defiant so I let drive at him with the squirt “If you please,” said I, and he got the bottle all right ‘ x "If you dont mind,” said I, "will you foot draw the cork?” > “And if I won't?" I took my squirt and watched him pull the cork. "Thank you,” sea I, seeing how Beautiful is the use «2f true politeness. •Now may I trouble you to spill what's left in the bottle into that there goblet? Now be co kind.”

“I refuse!" ..-Jii.., < The squirt won’t scare any more Billy, so I exhibits my gun. “I regrets to remark, Mr. O’Flynn, that this gun acts sort of sudden." “Shoot, and you go to Jail!" “But first, my dear yoking friend, I've time to lop off a few fingers, one at a time—won’t miss them all at once. May I request you to pour out the medicine? No —not on the floor, please, but into the goblet, while I observe that your right thumb seems tender after that cut, and ought to be treated. So, a little more. That’s right. Now honor me by adding a little water from the pitcher. Thank you. Thumb feeling easier? Well, that there laudanum soothes the fractious infant, and causes a whole lot of repose. Quite sweet without sugar. Yes, please, you’ll lift the goblet to your mouth while I watch that nothing goes wrong with your ptjg nose. You want to throw back your head, you treacherous swine. Drink, or I’ll splash your brains on the floor!” "I daren’t! It’s poison!” "It’s bullets—you’d better! Drink, or I’ll kill you! Drink! One —two— much obliged, I’m sure. Hope you’ll sleep well.” “Curse you!” he shrieked, and flung tbs glass at my head. Then down came the widow like a landslide. She scratched my face, confessed my sins, sobbed over her darling Billy avick, prescribed for my future, wrung her wet frock, and made a soap emetic for her offspring all at once. It’s a sure fact that wiflpw was plenty busy, and what with slinging that emetic at the patient, and gently Introducing the lady to the kitchen cupboard, wall, I declare I didn’t have a dull moment Then distant shots brought us all up standing. "At last!” Billy shouted, “they’re off!” "Who’s off?" A - “Father and hie men —escaped while I kep’ you in talk. Fooled, Jesse! Fooled! I fooled you to the eyes! My father’s . Larry O’Flynn, Captain Larry O’Flynn, captain of the outlaws!" My, there was pride In that lad! He sat on the table in the dusk, fighting to keep awake, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "He’s give me leave to Join, and I’m hitting the trail tonight—hitting the trail, d’ye hear?” His eyes closed, his voice trailed off to a whisper. Outside I could hear a rider coming swift, and Dale’s voice hailing, “Jesse! Jesse!"

“Jesse,” the lad was muttering, “lift his stock, and his woman, burn his ranch, and put his fires out —thatsh the way to—” Dale had stepped from his/ horse, and stood in the doorway, making it dark inside. “Where in blazes are you?” “Look,” said I, and Dale watched, for the boy, dead pale, was lurching from side to side, his eyes closed, his lips still moving. “Only drugged," said I. “Who let them robbers escape?" “Ransome Pollock,” said Dale, “Who else?” “Dave.” “How’s his poor tooth?" says I, and Dale explained he’d been clubbed. Young O’Flynn rolled over, and went down smash, so that I had to kneel, and try if his heart was all right It thumped along steady and give no sign of quitting. "I had to,” said I, “old "Whiskers yonder is the widow’s husband, and father to this boy. He’s clear grit. Iron." “Where’s the widow?” “Resting." I heard horses come thundering out of the dusk. “Robbers broke south?" “Yep." “Hev they grow’d wings?" "Nope.” “Can’t swim the Fraser?” "Bottled?" said he, cheering up. "Some,” says I. "Not corked' yet You want to make a line here quick, from the foot of the upper cliff to the edge of the river, and each man make three big fires. Then post half your men to tend fires, and the best shots to hold that line with rifles. Them robbers has got to break through when they knows they’re cornered. Here’s your boys, Iron. Git a move on!” “That’s so," says Dale, and in two shakes of a duck’s tall he was throwing his men Into* line. Meanwhile the widow, wild and lone, had flew; so that left Kate without help, her Job being coffee to keep the boys awake till we’d daylight to corner the robbers. Men watching on a strain like that get scary as cats, so by moonset some of our warriors would loose off guns at stumps, trees, rocks, or Just because they felt lonesome. After the moon went down, dry fuel got scant, so that the fires waned, and some of our young men must have seen millions of outlaws. When at last something actually happened. It was natural that Ransome should have adventures. .He wasn't built for solitude, and when be seen a flag wave from behind a bush he called the boys from left and right to bunch tn and corroborate. The flag kep’ waving, and pres-

ently two more of our men had to join the bunch because they couldn’t shout their good advice, lest the robbers hear every tvord. I was away to Apex Rock, Iron down in the canyon, and these blasted idiots, talked. Of course old Whiskers knew that antelope will always creep up to inspect any waving rag. Before the excitement was properly begun he and his robbers slipped through our broken line. If Ransome has time to alm he’s dangerous to the neighbors, but since the odds were a thousand to one the gun would kick him as far as next Thursday, I’d have bet my debts he wouldn’t hit the party with that flag. Yet that’s what happened. He got the widow O’Flynn. With one heart-rending, devastating howl she went to grass, and she did surely shriek as if there was no hereafter. Murthered in the limb she was, and as I left to follow the sounds of them escaping robbers, I didn’t have time to send a carpenter.

CHAPTER IX. The Untruthful Prisoner. Jesse’s Narrative. With creditors, women, robbers, and everything dangerous, you want to be chuck full of deportment and a whole lot tactful. Anything distractful or screeching disturbs one’s peace of

mind, and sends one’s aplomb to blazes, just when a bear trap may. happen at any moment. I traveled for all I was worth to put that widow behind me, and compose my mind. Maybe I’d gone a mile before remorse gnawed Whiskers because he’d abandoned the widow. He paused, and as I come surging along, he lammed me over the head with a gun. Yes, I was captured. They got my gun, too, and marched me along between them. Old man Brown was away, but as I’d left the scow on the near bank, the robbers were able to cross, and put the Fraser between me and rescue. That ought to have cheered him up, since it gave them a start of several hours toward safety, but instead of skinning out of British Columbia, as I advised them with powerful strong talk, they’d got to stop for breakfast on old Brown’s beans and sow-belly, cussing most plenteous because he wasn’t there to cook hot biscuits. After breakfast they wasted an hour dressing hie paw for old Whiskers, and wondering whether they’d waste one of my cartridges on me, or keep them all for my friends. On that I divulged a lot of etiquette out of my book. I told these misbegotten offspring they’d been brung up all wrong, or they’d have enough deportment to make tracks. "Now," says I, "in the land of the free and the home of the brave you been appreciated, whereas if you linger here till sunup you’ll be shot.” That made poor Whiskers still more suspicious, wondering what sort of beartraps guileful Smith was projecting. "Wants to get us up on the bench," says he, "that means ware traps. We’ll stay, right here, boys, for daylight, when we’ll be able to see ourselves, how to save them cattle.” “You’re dead right, Whiskers!” saye I. "Hair on you!" But he being fretful with his wound, orders his men to disable Brown’s fiddle, and lash me up with catgut. Moreover, when I was trussed, this Bull seen fit to kick me on the off chance, a part which ain’t referred to in polite society, especially with a boot -

“Brave man!” says I, an.d the rest of them robbers was so ashamed they got me a gag. ' , “Sorry,” say I, “pity 1 won’t be able to guide you to Brown’s cigars. He keeps a bottle, too.” , “Where are they?” says Bull. “Gag Brooke,” said I, for Bull went by that name, “and I’ll divulge the drinks.” “Gag Brooke,” says Whiskers, cheering up a little, “pity ne weren’t born gagged.” • So they gagged Mr. Brooke, and mounted him on sentry while they had Brown’s bottle of whisky and cigars. I got some, too. *

Of course there or’nary, no-account, range wolves reckoned my friends would wait for day before they attempted tracking. W’hereas Dale goi the lantern, found my paper trail, ano guessed at the ferry. Before we entered the cabin, I’d seen the glint of that lantern behind the rim of the bench, and I knew our boys trusted me to keep the robbers somehow down at the ferry-house. Whiskers, since the liquor made his wound worse, lurched groaning around the shack. At the first glint of dawn, he ordered Bull to take out the gag and lie down, then went to the door himself. It’s a pity that Dale, oqr leader, a sure fine shot, has a slight cast in his near eye, which throws his lead a little to the right. That’s why, when Whiskers went to the door, bale’s bullet only whipped off his left ear. Instead of being grateful, Whiskers skipped around holding the side of his face, with remarks which for a poor man was extravagant The shot made Bull bolt courageous behind the stove, to look for a bandage he said, while Ginger and the greaser sat up on their tails looking sort of depressed. Not one of the four was happy ,on finding that they'd bottled themselves tn the cabin instead of taking my advice and clearing for the States. “Prisoner,” said Whiskers, dolesome, holding his poor ear, “you can talk to your friends acrost the river?” “Why, certainly, Captain." “What way?" “Signaling.” “Cut the catgut, Colonel." t So Ginger cut me free. “Show a white flag, General,” said I. So Ginger waved a paper on a stick, and Dale replied with a white scarf from his neck.

When I walked out, the boys acrost the river gave three cheers, but I was halted from behind before I’d got far sideways. “Now,” says Whiskers, “signal, and pray that you won’t be tempted to send erroneous messages." “Remember," Bull shouts, “I can read Morse. No fooling.” “All right, Mr. Brooke," I called back, "then I’ll uee semaphore.” I heard Whiskers in tears directing his two youngsters to *put Mr. Brooke’s head in the meal sack, and sit hard on top. So I began to signal, explaining each word to Whiskers. Swim. “That,” says I, "means ’Dale.’ ” Pool. "That’s ’fool,’” says I, ’because he don’t give the answer.” Below. "That’s ’Hello.’” Rapids. "That’s ’Hello’ again." "You He,” says whiskers, miserable, through his teeth. "You made six letters.” “Sorry.” says I, "it got spelt/wrong first time." Float. “That’s ‘skunk,’ says I, "because he’s a polecat not to answer me." Guns. “■What’s that?” asked Whiskers, heaps suspicious because 1 couldn’t think of another word of four letters. “Hell!” says I. “Quite right,” sighed Whiskers, “to think of your future home.” Dale signaled, Coming. “Tell Dale,” says Whiskers, and his bereaved voice kind of jarred me now, “we’re just goln’ to keep a gun at your ear-hole while we march up the trail If Dale’s men fire, your wife will be a widow, Mr. Smith.” At that I wagged my arms and signaled. “No call to get wet Hold-ups marching to Georgia. Kill man with gun. If you miss, ware Widow Smith.” You see if Dale squinted and missed, my widow was apt to reproach. So I added, “Allow windage for squint.”

Dale answered, "You bet your life I wnLi ' ;. . . Then I swung inpnd fiurfng the cabin, and saw the barrel of my own revolver Just peering round the door. By its height from the ground I Judged that poor young Ginger was the artist. I wished it had been Bull, for I’d taken a fancy to Ginger. ~1--.'-"Well, gents,” says I, “your umbrellas is in the hat rack. All aboard for Robbers’ Roost, and don’t forget the lunch." Whiskers wanted me into the cabin, but I’d taken a dislike to catgut, so Ginger got orders to shoot me. At that I flared up. “Shoot,” says I. “you skulking cowards, scared to show your noses at the door. Hold your off ear, Whiskers. Charge, you curs!" The chief came first, straight at me, and seemed to climb over my foot on to his nose. Mr. Bull Brooke got hurt on the nose too, and I’d Just time to hand the greaeer a left hander behind the ear, before I went down on top of Whiskers, and the four of us rolled in a heap. I learned when I was a sailor how to argue.

Then I struggled, dragging my pile of robbers off sideways, so that to keep us covered with the gun, poor Ginger showed his red head in the doorway. It was his life or mine, yet when the shot rang out from across the river, and I saw the lad come crashing to the ground, I felt sort of sick. Of course that shot slackened the grip of the three robbers, so I wrenced loose, struck hard, and Jumped high, gaining the north wall of the cabin. When I turned round, our boys across the river ‘ were pouring hot lead after the robbers as they dived through the door of the shack. Ginger sprawled dead on the doorstep, and my gun, six paces off, lay in the dust. The robbers were disarmed, and I was free. “Say, Whiskers,” I called, "I want to save your lives, you and the greaser. Come and throw up your hands before you’re hurt,” There was no answer. Rocky Mountain outlaws may be mean and bad, but they fight like Americans, and they know how to die. I’d only one way left to force their surrender, and save their lives, so I hustled brushwood, cordwood, coal oil from the shed, piled up the fuel, and got a sulphur match from the bunch in my hind pocket. “Boye," I called, “Old Brown sort of values this place. It’s all the home he’s got; and it ain’t insured." No answer.

The little flame lep’ up and caught/' the brushwood, the crackling lifted to a roar, and the robbers must surely know that their time was come, for if they showed at the door they would be shot. I grabbed thy gun from the ground to stop (fur boys from firing. Then 1 shouted above the noise of the flames, “Come out and throw up your hands!” They came, poor fellows, and I made them prisoners, marching them down to the ferry. (TO BE CONTINUED.!

Mr. Bull Brooke Got Hurt on the Nose.

“Drink, or I'll Splash Your Brains on the Floor.”