Jasper County Democrat, Volume 7, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 March 1905 — BILLY PATTERPAT [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

BILLY PATTERPAT

By FRANK H. SWEET

► ) Copyright, I!*4, by Frank 11. .Sweet

O’Neil stepped to the door of the saloon, holding ids glass so he could see the colors of the sunlight through the liquor. The street was comparatively deserted, for when cowboys were In town it was customary for the Inhabitants to bethink themselves of needed duties Indoors. The color of the liquor proving satisfactory, O’Neil’s hand dropped from its significant position on. his chip pocket, and his eyes swept the street. “Hike hero, you fellers!” lie yelled suddenly. “Yonder’s Billy Patterpat turning the corner. Let’s cover the street and corral him and then make him dance.” “Huh!” drawled another cowboy who was leaning against the counter, emptying glasses and Hinging them at Whoever he thought might not be able to dodge and holding his revolver in readiness to meet possible objection to his playfulness, "Patterpat won’t dance. He’s joined the little party of Menu mites tip country and gone plain. Ain't you heard'.' Billy ain’t frivolous any more.” “We’re goin’ to give him a drink first” significantly. “There won’t be trouble then. You used to know Billy.” The figure at the counter straightened. “Why, of course, of course," he conceded, “a good driuk will be oil for Patterput’s feet. I did used to kuow Billy. The only trouble with him was that all his brains and fun and everything was jest In his feet, and with them gone plain there couldn’t be no Patterpat any more. We’ll oil ’em with Billy’s special limberer.” As they filed out a newcomer from Texas looked discontentedly at O’Nell. “Any special inducement ’bout that Patterpat’s feet?” he inquired. "Pve been pretty comfortable sitting on the counter. We have dancing down to Texas.” "Better go back there," curtly, “or go sit on the counter if you like. As to Inducement, there ain’t only one dancer, and that’s Patterpat. Pve been to Frisco and to Kansas City and to Chicago, and I’ve seen dancin’—leastways what they called dancin’—but I’ve never seen but one Patterpat, only he has to be limbered up with great jugs of whisky first Then his legs are all wheels and parabolas and rtcoshays and scintillates. Now, you stand right here, and I’ll canter out to

j the middle oftLe’street. That’s him j coinin’ yonder and beginnin’ to dodge | already. That’S the way he used to i do, and we had to round him like we would a wild mustang and then fill him up.” Billy rutterpnt was a block and a half away, coming on slowly and looking from side to side for some avenue of escape. The gradual spreading of the cowboys across the street brought up memories of past experiences, and his eyes had begun to grow troubled and full of apprehension. At length he stopped and looked back, but it was too late now. Several of the cowboys were near their mustangs, aud as he turned they swung into their saddles aud dashed up the street. In a few

moments lie was In tlieir midst, struggling and protesting, his eyes big with terror cf what he felt was coming. “Don’t you give it to me, gentlemen,” he pleaded. “I’m plain now, and it wouldn't i>e right. Ain't danced in six months and ain’t tasted a drop. Don’t you make me now.” “Look at that, Billy.” said O’Neil, holding up a bottle between Billy’s eyes and the sun. “Don’t that look good? Just see how it smiles! It’s the very best in town, and we’ve got more bottles in waiting. There’s ten whole glasses for you, Billy—just for you. Think how it’ll feel running down your throat and remember how it smells! Lordy, Ido feel almost like drinking the whole thing myself! But here, Billy.” He reached out the bottle suddenly, and Billy’s hands—both of them—went hungrily toward it Ills eyes were shining, his lips trembling, his whole form in a quiver, but even then, with

|an almost superhuman effort, he forced ■ his arms back to his sides. “Don’t, O’Neil" he implored. "Don’t, don’t, don’t!” his voice rising quaveringly. “You know how ’tis with me. Please don’t. I don’t want it.” “It’ll do you good,” inflexibly. “You are getting thin from going without it so long, and It’s better to enjoy the stuff trickling down your throat slow than to have it poured down in bottles You know what we say goes, Billy, and you must drink the whole thing.” Billy dropped upon his knees. “Don’t,” he repeated dully. “I don’t want to. If I smell I can’t stop then. You and me’s been good friends, O’Neil, and I’ve danced and and drank a lot for you. Let me off this time. And—and, if you don’t mind, I’d like to say why.” “Oh, let the poor devil make his confession, O'Neil,” interposed one of the cowboys good naturedly. "You know how ’tis with Patterpat. If he smells, as he says, he won't stop easy. It’ll be two mouths before lie sobers up. Let him start in right.” Billy shot him a grateful look. “It’s like this,” he said, with a pathetic eagerness in his voice. “Six mouths ago I happened to be up in the country, and I saved a girl’s life. She was caught by a bear, and—and I suppose I acted some brave. Anyhow, she aud her folks thought so and took me in. Since then I’ve been up there, and I ain’t tasted a drop, and I’ve been feelin' that mebbe I could make something of myself some time, like I used to think a—a long while ago.” There was a little catch in his voice; then he went on in lower tones: “Me and the girl was to be married. I came down today for a ring and license. They believe in me up there, and I’ve joined in with them, and”—his eyes suddenly becoming steady and aggressive at a giggle from one of the cowboys—“lf ’twun't for the whisky I believe I could be a good mau again—a better one than you could ever be, Danny. But, of course’’—his voice again dropping and his hand reaching mechanically toward the liottle—“this will finish it all. Up there they don’t have anything strong to drink, and—and they never suspected I was that way. When they find this out it’ll be over with us. I’ll run through myself soon’s I can, and—aud the girl and they’ll feel sorry, but you’ll have your dance carnival. So we won't all lose. Now you can give me the bottle. O’Neil.” But O’Neil was holding the bottle up between his own eyes and the sun. "Seems a pity to spill such good stuff,” he said regretfully, “but It’s got to be.” Then In a louder voice: “Here, you fellers, see that stone over t’other side the street? Well, every one who’s got a bottle shy at that, and the one who breaks Into the most pieces will go with Billy to see about the ring and license. Then we’ll all club In for a present and”—

"LOOK AT THAT, BILLY.”