The Hiding of Black Bill.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIC, Issue 13811, 23 January 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Hiding of Black Bill.

"A) lank, strong, red-faced man with a [Wellington beak and small fiery eyes, tempered by flaxen lashes, sat on the station platform at Los Hnos swinging his legs to and fro. At his side sat another, man, fat, melancholy, and seedy, who seemed to be his friend. They had the appearance of mea to whom life had' api*?ared as a reversible coat: — seamy on both sides < "Ain't seen you in about four years. Ham," said the seedy man. "Which way: you been travelling?" ; : '*;Texas," said the red-faced man. "It'was too cold in Alaska for me. And I-; found it warm in Texas. I'll tell youjabout one hot spell I went through therel ; X'One morning I steps off the International at a water-tank and lets it goion without me; 'Twas a ranch country:-and fuller of spite houses than New-York City. Only out there they build' 'em' twenty miles away so you c§ri ? t smell what they've got for dinner,- instead : of running 'em up two inches from their neighbours' vn idows. /"There wasn't any roads in sight so I*footed it 'cross country. The grass was shoe-top deep and the mesquite' timber looked like a peach orchard. It wassomuch like a gentleman's private estate that every minute you expected a kennelful of bull-dogs to run out and bite you. But I must have walked twenty miles before I came in sight of a- ranch-house. It was a little ' one,. about as big as an elevated railroad station.

"There was a- little man in a white shirt and brown; overalls and a pink handkerchief around his neck rolling cigarettes under a tree in front of the door. -.".-'. x "'Greetings,* says I. 'Any refreshments, welcome, emoluments, or even work for a comparative stranger?' "'Oh,- come in,' says he in a refined : tone. 'Sit down on that stool, please. . I-didn't hear your horse coming.' I'-'He isn't near enough yet,' says I. 'l.walked. I don't want to be a burden i but I wonder if you have three or: four gallons of water handy.' '"Yon do look pretty dusty,' says he; 'but our' bathing arrangements—' '"lt's a" krink I want,' says I 'Never mind the dust that's on the out side.' "He gets me a dipper of water out of a red jar hanging up then and goes pn: " 'Do-yon want work?' " 'For* a time,' says T. 'This is a rather quiet section of the country, isn't it?'" ' ' " "It is," savs he. 'Sometimes—so I have been told—one sees no human being, pass for weeks at a time. I've been here only a month. I bought the ranch from an old settler who wanted to move farther west.' " 'lt suits me,' says I. 'Quiet and retirement are good for a man sometimes.' And I need a job. I can tend bar, salt mines, lecture, float stock, do a little middle-weight slugging, and play the piano.' " 'Can you herd sheep r asks the little ranchman. '-' 'Do you mean have I heard sheep i says I ■ . " 'Can you Herd 'em—take charge or a flock of 'em?' says he. "'Oh,' says I, "now I understand. You mean chase 'em around and bark at 'em like collie dogs. Well, I might,' says I. 'l've never exactly done any sheep-herding, but I've often seen 'em from car windows masticating daisies, and they don't look dangerous.' "'l'm short a herder,' says the ranchman. 'Yon never can depend _oia the Mexicans. I've only got two flocks; You may take out my. bunch of muttons—there .are .only.eight hundred** 'eh^inttte-tnSiri^g^:e^ l| o»:4ifce; ~3-h» pay is twelve dollars a month afid-yonr rations. furnished. You camp in a tent on** the prairie with your sheep. You -dri .your own cooking, but wood and w-Ater are brought to your camp.

t's.ah. easy job:* , , •.-,■. , " ll'm on,' says I. I'll take the job ven/if I have to garland my brow and ol<* on to a crook and wear a loose fMct "and play on a pipe like the shepiferds do in pictures.' _ "So the next morning the little ranchman helps me drive the flock of muttons from the corral to about two miles out and let 'em graze on a little hiUside on .the prairie He gives me a lot'of instructions about not letting bunches of them stray off from the herd, and driving 'em down to a water hole to drink at noon. '•« 'l'll bring out your tent and camp-,-n«r outfit and rations in the buckboard before night,' says he. ,_■,._ . « Vme,' sVys I. 'And don't forget the rations. Nor the camping outfit. S insure to bring the tent. Your name's Zollicoffer, ain't it.' _ name,' says he, 'is Henry °-*£ l right, Mr. Ogden,' says 1. 'Mine is Mr. Percival Saint Clair. "I herded sheep for five days on the ■RWha Chiquito; and then the wool entered my soul.' That getting next to nature certainly got next to me. I was lonesomer than Crusie's goat. I've seen a lot of persons more entertainine ae companions than those sheep were I'd drive 'em to the corral and TC n 'em every evening, and then cook mv corn bread and mutton and coffee and "lie down in a tent the size of a tablecloth and listen to the coyotes ami whip-poor-wills singing around the fifth evening, after I had corralled my costly but uncongenial nations,, I walked over to the ranch-house -md Wtepped in the door. » <M>. Ogden,' says I, 'you and me have sot to get sociable Sheep are all yer? well to dot the landscape, and furlush l£ht-dollar cotton suitings for man but for table talk and Mteide fompanions they rank ahnng with five o'clock teazers. If you've got a cock of cards or a parchesi outfit or a gcme of authors, get 'em out and Jet's get on a mental basis. I've got to do "llSin an intellectual line, it ft'TlS? to somebody's brains ° U "TIm Henry Ogden was a peculiar kind of aTranchman. • He wore.tngrKinu "i e- ~ watch and careful Sties And g hTs fal -as calm and hL noS'spectacles was kept very shiny llaw oncein Muscogee an outlaw hung hav P e taken % I didn't care much for him either way; what I -anted was some fellowship and communionwith hoTy sSnts o/lost smners-anythmg says he, lay ** n a mu^\t P re«rU™e B 'for SUeSS t , firS And I don't deny that it's Are you sure yon corralled your sheep so they wont shut up as tight as the jury of a millionaire murderer,' says T 'And I'll be back with them long before they'll need their trained nnrse '<q n OBden digs up a deck of cards and we ptv £3 smo y After five days and nights of my sheep was like a toot on Broadway. When I caught big casino I felt as excited as it fhad in Trimtv. And when H.O. loosened up and told the story about the lady in the Pullman car 1 laughed for five minutes. "That showed what a comparative thing life is. A man may see so much

that he'd he hored at a 3,000,000 dollar fire or Joe AVeber in. the Adriatic Sea. But let him herd sheep for a spell and you'll see him splitting his sides laughing at 'Curfew Shall Not King To-night,' or really enjoying himself playing cards with ladies. "By-and-by Ogden gets out n cecanter of Bourbon, and then there is a total eclipse.of sheep. " 'Do you remember reading the papers about a month ago,' Rays he, •about a train hold-up on the M. b> . ■and T. ? The express agent was . shor, through the.shoulder, and about i;»,000 dollars in. currency taken. \nd it's said that only one man did the job.' " 'Seems to me I do,' says i. "iUt such things happen so often they lYn't linger long in the human Texas_ mud. Did they overtake, overhaul, sjeize, or lay hands upon the despoiler ?' ""■ 'He escaped,' says Ogden. 'And I was just reading in a paper to-day that the officers have tracked him down into this part of the country. It seems the bills -the' robber got were all the first issue of currency to the Second National Bank of Espinosa City. And so they've followed the trail' where they've been spent, and it leads tins way.' '' 'Ogden pours but some more Bourbon and shoves me the 1 bottle. " 'I imagine,' . says I, after ingurgitating anotner modicum of the. royal hooze, 'that it wouldn't be at all a. disingenuous idea for a train robber to run down into this part of the country to hide ' for a spell. A sheep-ranch, now,' says I, 'would be the finest kind of a place.' Who'd ever expect to find a desperate character among these song-birds-and muttons and wild flowers? And, by the way,' says I, kind •of looking H. Ogden over, 'was there any description mentioned of tin's single-handed terror? Was his lineaments or height or thickness or teetli fillings or style of habiliments set forth in print?' •• 'Why, no,' says Ogden; 'they say nobody got a good sight of him because lie wore a mask. But they know it was a tram robber called Black Bill, because he dropped a handkerchief in an express car that had his name on it,

"'All right,' says I. 'I approve of Black- Bill's retreat to the sheepranges. 1 guess they won't find him.' " 'There's one thousand dollars reward for 'ais capture,' says Ogden. •' ; I don't need that kind oi nioney, says I," looking Air. Sheepman straignt in the eve. 'The' twenve dollars you pay me is enough. I need a rest and 1 can save up until I get enough to pay my fare to Texarknna, where my w-.uowc-il mother lives. If Black Bill,' I goes on, looking significantly at Ogden, 'was to-have come down this way —say, a month ago—and bought a little sheep-ranch and- " " -Stop/ says Ogden, getting out of his chair and* looking pretty vicious.' 'Do you mena to insinuate— —' "'Nothing,' says I; 'no insinuations. I'm stating- a hypodermical case. I say, if Black Bill had come down here andbought a sheep-ranch and hired me to Little Boy Blue 'em and treated me square and friendly, as you We done, he'd never have anything to fear from me. A man is a man regardless of any complications he, may have with sheep or railroad trains. Now yon know where I stand.' " 'Ogden looked black as camp coffee for. nine seconds, and then he laughs,

amused. " 'You'll do, Saint Clair,' says: he. If I was Black Bill I wouldn't be afraid to trust you. Let's have a game or. two of seven-up to-night. That is, if you don't mind playing with a train ,robber.' /"I've told you,' says I, 'my oral sentiments; and. there's no strings to 'em.'

, i '•While I-was, shuffling after.,the..fi rsj; 'iianti;"l l --Rsks-^oi3enJ'-as r if the idea'waS a Mnd of a casualty, where he ; was from.

" 'Oh,' says lie, 'from the Mississippi valley.? " 'That's a nice little place,', says I. 'l've often stopped over there. . But didn't you find the sheets a little damp and the food poor? 'Now I hail,' says I, 'from the Pacific slope. Ever put up there?' _ " 'Too draughty,' says Ogden. 'But if you're ever, in the Middle West just mention riiy name and you'll get footwarmers and dripped coffee.' " 'Well/ says I, 'I wasn't exactly fishing for your private telephone number and the middle name of your aunt that cairied off the Cumberland Presbyterian 'minister. • It don't matter. ■ I just want you to know you a/e safe in iho I'-inds of jnur shepherdJ Now, don't- v l lay 1 farts jon spades, and don't get .nc-vous.' '.' ' Still harping,' .-ays 'gUm, langhing again. ' Don't ■■>•■ u f i o; ose that if I was Black Bill Mid you suspected me, I'd r.ut a Vi'ncbester bullet into you and stop ::y i*ervousl.ess, if I had an.v?' . "Not any,' says 1. '."» raii.-uhos got the nerve to hold rp a train singlehanded wouldn't do a irick hie that. I've knocked about enough to know that there are the i ind ■">: n>ea v bo put a value on a i"trJ. No« trat I can claim being a frie-ii of 50111s, Mr Ogden,' says T, ' •_• - ->tily y< nr sheep-herder; hut .-nder 1 <re esi-edi-j tioiis circumstances we mh ht nave been." . , ~ r "Forget tlie vheep t> v poranly, I hen-,' savs Ogden, 'and fit f. r real. "About four -'.ays a''towards, v hue mv mutfons was nooning • ii.the waterhole and 1 was deep +!;e u.t-fetices of making a pot of c.ifee, 1.0 rides softly on the'grass a rswrious rorson in the garb of the brfrag he wished to •represent. He sm >•* here between a Kansas City detective, Buffalo Bill, and the town dog-catcher of Baton Rouge. His chin and *?***** , fc moulded on fighting lines; so * knew he was only a scout. »'Herdin' sheep.-' he asks nif. "Well,' savs 1, ' to a man of your evident gumptional endowments J Wdn't have the nerve to state that I am engaged in decorating old bronzes or oiling bicycle sprokets. <"You don't talk or look like a sheen-herder to me,' says lie. "-But you talk like what you look like to me",' says I. "\nd then he asks me -yho 1 v. as workin- for, and I shows him Band.o Si two miles away in the shadow of a low hill; and he tells me he's a de^here'f 'a train robber called Black Bill supposed to be somewhere m these parts,' says the scout ' He s oei traced as far as San Antonio and maybe farther. Have you seen or heaid of any strangers around here during says I, 'except a report of one over at the Mexican quarters of Loomis's ranch on the Fr "'What do you know about him?' asks the deputy. "'He's three days old, says 1. '"What kind of a looking man is the man vou work for?' he asks. 'Does old George Barney own this place vet 9 He's run sheep here for the last ten years, but never had no surCe "''The old man has sold out and cone awav ' I tells him. ' Another, sheep-fancier bought him out about a n, ""*Vhat' kind of a looking man is he?' says the deputy, again • "Oh' savs I, 'a big, fat kind of a Dutchman, with long whiskers and blue spec. I don't think he knows a sheep from a ground squirrel. I g ue=s old George soaked him pretty

well on .the deal,' says I. "After indulging himself in a, lot more non-communicative information and two-thirds of' my. dinner, the deputy rides away. " That night 1 mentions the matter to Ogden. "'They're drawing the tendrils of the octopus around Black Bill,' says I. And then I told him about the deputy sheriff and how I'd described liim to the deputy, and what the deputy said about the matter.

" 'Oh, well,' says Ogden, 'lot's don't borrow any of Black Bill's ; troubles. We've a few of our own. (iot (lie Bourbon out of the cupboard and we'll drink to his health. Unless,' says ho, with his little cackling laugh, 'you're prejudiced against train robbers.' ■ "'l'll drink,' says 1,.'t0. any man who's a friend to a friend. And I believe that Black Bill,' I' goes r \on, ' would be that'. So here's' to Black Bill, and may he have-good- luck:' . <

"And both of us drank. "About two weeks later.comes shear-ing-time. The.sheep, had to lie driven up to'the ranch,'and a lot of frowzyheaded Mexicans would snip the fur off of them with back-action scissors. So, the 'afternoon before the barbers were to come, I hustled iny underdone muttons over the hill, across the dell, down by the winding brook, and Up to the ranch-house, where I penned 'em in a corral and hade Vm my nightly odieus. -, "I went from there to . the .ranchhouse'. .1. find R. Ogden, Esquire, ly-ing-asleep on his little cot bed. I Kiiess lie had been overcome by antiinsomnia or diswakefulness or some of the diseases peculiar to the sheep business. ;ftis mouth and vest were open, and he breathed like a second-hand bicycle pump. ' I looked at him "nd gave vent 'to just a few musings. ' Imperial Caesar,' says T, 'asleep in such a way, might shut his mouth and .keep the wind away.'

" A man asleep is certainly a sio;ht to make angels weep. What good is all his brain, muscle, backing, . nerve, influence, and/ family connections? He's at the mercy of his enemies, and more so of bis friends. And he's about as beautiful as . a cab-horse leaning against' the Metropolitan Opera House at 12.30 a.m. dreaming of the plains of Arabia Now . a nvoman asleep you regard as different. No matter how she . looks; you, know it's better for all hands for her to be that way. i "Well, ' I took a drink, of Bourbon, and one for Ogden, and started'in to be comfortable while he was taking his nap. ; He had some books on his table on indigenous subjects, such as Japan and drainage and physical culture; and some, tobacco, which seemed •- more to the point. "After I'd smoked a few and listened to the sartorial breathing of H. 0., I happened to look out of the window toward the shearing pens, where there was a kind of a road corning Up from a a kind .of a road across a kind of i» creek farther away. "T" saw five men riding up to the house. All.of 'em carried guns across their saddles, and among 'em was the deputy that had talked to me at my camp. . _ "They rode up careful, in open lormation, with their guns ready. I set apart.with my eye the nn.e'l .opinionated to be the boss- muck-raker of this law-and-order cavalry. '_ ■"'Good evening, gents,' says I. '■Won't vou 'light and tie your horses? ."The boss rides'un close and swings his'gnn over till the opening in it s<4ms to cover my whole front eleva-

tion. , ~ "'Don't you move your hands none,'-says lie, ' till you and me indulge in a adequate .amount of necesj sarv conversation.' /"I will not,', says 1. 'I .am no deaf-mute! and therefore will not have to .disobey .your injunctions in. reply--ihg.' '■'.' ■•' ■ ', ' ' ,'■..'•"-.'■ - ""' \vV are on the look-out, says he 'for Black' BilT, the mr.u that, held up Katty for 15,000 dollars in May We nr* searching the-' ranches and •everybody on 'ein. ' What is your what do you do on this ranch'?'" ' ■ --, _ -,'<-•* " 'Captain,' savs T, 'Percival Saint | Clair is iriv occupation, arid my name is sheep-herder. I've got my flock ol veals—no, muttons—penned here tonight The shearers are coming here to-morrow to-give- them a hair-cut—: with a baa-a-mm, I suppose '"Where's the boss of. tins ranch? the captain of the gang asks me. . " 'Wait a minute, cap'n, L. 'Wasn't there n kind of a reward oftered for-the capture of this desperate, character you have referred to in your was. a thousand dollars reward offered,' says the' captain, 'but it'= for his..capture and. conviction. There don't seem to be no provisions made for an informer.' .-..., "'lt looks like it might ram m a day or so,' says I, in a tired way, looking uo at the cerulean sky. " 'Tf you know anything about the locality, disposition, or secretiveness of this here Black Bill,' saye lie, in _a severe dialect, 'you are. amiable to the law in not reporting it.' " 'I heard a fence-rider say,' says 1, in a desultory kind of voice, that a Mexican told a cowboy named Jake over at Pidgin's store on the pieces that he heard that Black Bill had been seen': in Matamoras by a sheepman s cousin- two weeks ago.' '"Tell you what I*ll do, Tight Mouth,' savs the captain, after looking me over for bargains. 'lf yo» on ™t ii<-- (in so as we can scoop Black Bill, I'll pay you a hundred hollars out of mv o« : ii—out of our own—pockets. That's liberal:'' says he. 'You am t entitled to anything. Now , what do you sav?' ' » ' ' '"'Cash down now?' I asks. "The captain had a sort ol discussion with his helpmates, and they all nroduce the contents of their pockets for Analysis. Out of the general results the'v figured up 102.30 dollars m cash and' 31 dollars worth of plug to-

bacco. ",'Come nearer, captain nieen, says 1, 'and listen.' He did so. " T am mighty poor and low in the world,' savs I. 'I am working lor twelve dollars, a month trying to keep a lot of animals together whose only thought seems to be to get asunder. Although,' says I, 'I regard myself as some better than the state of South Dakota, it's a oomo-down to a man who has hithertofore regarded she°» only in the forms of chops. I'm pretty far"reduced in the world on account ot foiled ambitions and rum and a kind of cocktail they make along the 1 .U.K. all the way from Scranton to Cincinnati —dry K in, French vermouth, one squeeze of lime, and a good dash of orange bitters. Tf you're ever up that way don't fail to let me try you. And, ao-ain,' savs I, 'I have never yet went Iw-k on a friend. I've stayed by em when thev had plenty; and when adversity's overtaken me I've never forsook 'em.

•' 'But,' I goes on, 'this is not exactly the case of a friend. Twelve dollars a. mouth is onlv bowing acquaintance withlmonev. And I do not consider biwvji beans and corn bread the food of friendship. I am a poor man says I, 'and I have a widowed mother in Texarkana You'll find Black Bill savs I. 'lving asleep in the housivon a 'cot in the room to your leit Hes the man von want, as I know by Ins words and' conversation. Ho was in a way a, friend,' I explains, 'and if I was the man I once was, the entire product of the mines of Gondola would not j tempt' me to betray him. But, says

f, 'every week half of.the beans was wormy, and not nigh enough wood in camp. , '■ . " 'Bptter go in careful, gentlemen, says I. 'He seems impatient at times, and when' you. think of :his late, .-professional pursuits, one would look for abrupt actions'if. ho was come., upon sudden.' ,

"So the whole posse unmounts and ties their horses and unlimbers their ammunition and equipments, and tiptoes into the house. And 1 follows, like Delilah when she set the Philip Steins- on to Samson. "The loader of the posse 1 shakos' Ogden and wakes him up. And then, he jumps up and f two more'of the rewardhunters grab him. Ogden was mighty tough with all' his slimness; : and he gives :'em as neat a single-footed tussle against .odds as I ever see. '"'What does this mean ?' > he' says after they hadihim down.

" 'You're scooped in, Mr. Black Bill,' says the captain.' 'That's all.' > "'lt's an outrage,' says H. Ogden, madder yet. . -

" 'lt was,' says the, peace and goodwill mail. 'The Katy wasn't-bothering you, and there's a law against monkeying with express packages, ' ' "And he sits on H„,Ogden's stomach arid goes through his pockets syptomatieally and careful. ' "'l'll make you perspire for this,' says • Ogden, perspiring some himself. 'I can prove who I am. ' .-, , ■""'So can I,' says the captain, as he draws froiu H. Ogden's inside coat pocket a handful of new bills of the Second National . Bank of Espinosa City. 'Your 'regular engraved Tues-day-and-Friday visiting-card wouldn't have a louder voice in proclaiming your indemnity than ■■this- here currency. You con get up now and prepare to -go with us and-expatriate your sins.' ,"H. Ogden . gets rip, and fixes his necktie! He says nn more after they take the money off, him. •'.'., "'A well-greased idea,' says th" sheriff captain, admiring,, 'to slip off down liere and buy a little sheep-ranch where the. hand of man .. is seldom heard. It was the slickest hide-out I ever see,' says' the captain. "So one'of the men goes to the shearing-pen : and hunts un. the other hcrder,~a Mexican they call John Sallies, and he saddles Ogden's horse and the sheriffs all' ride xif> oTflse" around him with their guns in hand, ready to take their prisoner to town; - "Before starting Ogden . puts the ranch in John Sallies'* hands and gives him orders about the shearing and where to graze.the sheep, just ns if he intended to' be back in a few days. And a couple of hours afterward one Percival Saint Clnir an ex-siieepherder. of the Kancho. ClSiqiiito, might have been seen with a.hundred and nine dollars —wages and blood moriey—-in his pocket, riding south on-another'horse belonging to the said ranch." The red-faced man partsed and listened. The whistle of a coming freighttrain sounded far away among the low hills. : ', . • i -jt The fat. seedv man at., his side sniffed, and shook "his frowzy head slowly and disparagingly. ; ,-,,., '., "What is it, Snipy?" asked the other "Got the blues again?" : '- "No I ain't," said the seedy one sniffing again. But I dont like your talk. You and. me have been friends, off and on, for fifteen year; and- 1 have never yet knew or heard or. you givino- anvorie up -to the law—not no one. Arid-here was a man whose saleratus vjdu had et and at whose table vou had played games of cards—if casino can be so called. And yet you inform him to the law and take money for it. It never was like you, I say. "This H. Ogden," resumed the redfaced man, "through.a lawyer proved himself free by alibis and other legal terminalities.; as I so heard afterward. He never suffered no harm. He did me favours, and I hated to hand : lum his pocket?" asked the:seedv man; "I put 'em there," said the red-tac-ed mari, "while he was asleep, when 1 saw the posse riding un. I was Black Bill. Look out, Snipy,'he-re'she comes! We'll hoard her on the bumpers when S she takes water at the tank.