FARO CHARLIE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1130, 27 October 1893, Page 13

FARO CHARLIE.

BY MORLEY ROBERTS. Like other rising places in the land of the setting sun, Double Mountain had a saloon, a blacksmith's shop, a store, a creek placed conveniently by a beneficent Providence, and a had man to prevent the town from stagnating. But Faro Charlie was not a very bad man. He hardly ever shot anybody. His contributions to the Double Mountain bone-orchard were very few, so few, indeed, that Sweetwater held him in contempt. But there Charlie would have been reckoned a good, quiet citizen. A man's reputation for ' badness ' depends so greatly on the character of the other folks about him.

As a matter of fact, Charlie never thought of killing any one .who left him entirely alone and did not interfere with him. He could get on for weeks without bloodshed. It had not become a habit with him. There is little distinction between murder and morphine, as far as taking a grip of a man. But Charlie was moderate; he never yearned for the death of any man merely as a sop to his nerves. It is evident he was not really bad at all. . Yet he had the reputation, because he shot the first man who died in the little town, and naturally he was proad of it. But it led to his undoing. There was in Double Mountain, working for Jim McNulty the blacksmith, an innocent called Billy Case. Now Billy was much nearer being a real fool than Charlie was to being a real desperado. And every one knew it. He went mooning about with a big silly face grinning at the world, and the town chaffed him a good deal. But as he didn't mind work, and was a fair chopper, he made a living by cutting mosquito firewood on the prairie. Sometimes Faro Charlie passed him on his way to Williams' Ranch, a couple of miles up the creek. He always stayed to chaff Billy, and Billy regarded it as a high honour to be spoken to by so celebrated a man. He always called Charlie by his right name, Mr Wilkins ; for he had a kind of notion that the man of faro might shoot him dead if he were too familiar.

' How many men have you ever killed, Billy ?' said Charlie to him one day.

' I never killed no one, Mr Wilkins,' answered the innocent, looking at him as he might have done if he had been asked whether he ever drew a cheque for 10,000 dollars.

' Would you kill anyone, Billy ?' Billy dropped his axe into the cut of his log, and leaving it there he pondered slowly. ' Not unless I thought he meant to wipe me out, Mr Wilkins,' he, answered at length. -' Good man,' said Faro, and rode On. Next time Charlie went that way he was in a happy frame of mind, full of kindness and corn, for he had taken a little pile out of a faro game, and had made a rather tough individual wilt down and take .water. So when he came by Billy he sang out to him, ' Billy, Billy I' ' Yes, sir,' said the chopper. ' When I come back I'm going to shoot you.' And he spurred his pony down to the pitch that led to the creek crossing. He laughed when he got over. But he left Billy staring, goggle-eyed, after him. ' Well,' said Billy, pitifully, ' what hev I done to Mr Wilkins that makes him say that?'

He sat down on a log, and searched his empty memory for something to suggest a cause for this direful threat. But he could find no sufficient reason.

' I ain't agoin' to be killed for nuthin',' said Billy ; ' for I ain't done it.' He sat thinking and thinking, and presently he walked back to Double Mountain. ' I reckon 1 don't feel like working this afternoon, Mr McNulty,' said he. And then he borrowed his boss's oldest gun, which he sometimes took. He had a heavy charge of powder left in his room, and he rammed it down the big bore till he had the wad jammed against that which gave no more than a wood block. He wandered into the shop and picked up such trifles as pieces of scrap iron, small bolts, and a handful of nails. He put about six inches of those into the gun and jammed a piece of newspfgpr on top. Then he startdd for his_\vorJ^' -place again. He looked very pale, butMfry determined. He waited till nearly suimwn, and when he saw Charlie loping Jpme fast, Billy went to the edge of themownward slope and lay behind a rock. mAs Faro Charlie reached the top of the riß and came broadside on, Billy ■pulled Mae. trigger. Tho charge took Faro or]M,nd above the left bip. It fairly lifted Mm off his pony and he fell in his verjwtracks. The pony galloped wildly down the road. Charlie was not killed on the spot, and after tying there a couple of minutes he came to. With great difficulty he raised his head, and saw Billy there with the old twelve-bore in his hand. He was ghastly white, and shaking. ' What—did —you —do—-it—fo? ?' asked Charlie, with long pauses between each word. ' You said you'd shoot me when you came back, Mr Wilkins !' A kind of paintul grin twisted Faro's face. ' You —damn—fool, —I —didn't—mean —it 1' And then his head fell back. And then Billy fairly moaned ; and he leant over him and implored him not to

die. But he never stirred again. By the time Billy got help, he was sold as a wedge.