CHAPTER XII
DIPLOMACY IN DODGE
It was a subject of common regret when Mr. Masterson, as Sheriff ofFord, decided to resign. He had shown himself equipped for the position,being by nature cool and just and honest, and disposed to accuracy inall things, especially in his shooting. It was those laws prohibitive ofthe sale of strong drink throughout the State of Kansas that promptedthe resignation of Mr. Masterson.
"The rounding up of horse thieves and hold-ups, Bob," observed Mr.Masterson to Mr. Wright, "is legitimate work. And I don't mind burning alittle powder with them if such should be their notion. But I draw theline at pulling on a gentleman, and dictating water as a beverage."
Whereupon Mr. Masterson laid down his office, and Mr. Wright and Mr.Short and Mr. Kelly and Mr. Trask and Mr. Tighlman and Cimarron Billsorrowfully gathered at the Wright House and gave a dinner in his honor.Following the dinner, Mr. Masterson translated himself to Arizona, whileDodge relieved its feelings with the circulation of a document whichread:
"We, the undersigned, agree to pay the sums set opposite our names to the widow and orphans of the gent who first informs on a saloonkeeper."
The white American is a mammal of unusual sort. He doesn't mind when hisofficers of government merely rob him, or do no more than just saddleand ride him in favour of some pillaging monopoly. But the moment thoseofficers undertake to tell him what he shall drink and when he shalldrink it, he goes on the warpath. Thus was it with the ebullient folk ofDodge on the dry occasion of Prohibition. The paper adverted to gainedmany signatures, and promised a fortune to those mourning ones it sofeelingly described.
When Mr. Masterson laid down his regalia as Sheriff and the publicrealised that he had pulled his six-shooters, officially, for the lasttime, a sense of loss filled the bosoms of those who liked a peacefullife. There was another brood which felt the better pleased. Certaindissolute ones, who arrive at ruddiest blossom in a half-baked Westerncamp, made no secret of their satisfaction. Withal, they despised Mr.Masterson for the certainty of his pistol practise, and that tacitbrevity wherewith he set his guns to work.
Perhaps of those who rejoiced over the going of Mr. Masterson, a leadingname was that of Bear Creek Johnson. Certainly, Bear Creek jubilatedwith a greater degree of noise than did the others. Having money at thetime, Bear Creek came forth upon what he meant should be a record spree.
The joyful Bear Creek was fated to meet with check. He had attained tothe first stages of that picnic which he planned, "jest beginnin' toonbuckle," as he himself expressed it, when he was addressed upon thesubject by Mr. Wright. The latter was standing in the doorway of hisstore, and halted Bear Creek, whooping up the street. Mr. Wright owned apast wherein rifle smoke and courage were equally commingled to make anhonoured whole. Aware of these credits to the fame of Mr. Wright, BearCreek ceased whooping to hear what he might say. As Bear Creek paused,Mr. Wright from the doorway bent upon him a somber glance.
"I only wanted to say, Bear Creek," observed Mr. Wright, "that if I wereyou I wouldn't tire the town with any ill-timed gayety. If the oldvigilance committee _should_ come together, and if it _should_ decide toclean up the camp, the fact that you owe me money wouldn't save you. Ishould never let private interests interfere with my duty to the town,nor a lust for gain keep me from voting to hang a criminal. It would beno help to him that I happened to be his creditor."
This rather long oration threw cold water upon the high spirits of BearCreek Johnson. He whooped no more, and at the close of Mr. Wright'sremarks returned to his accustomed table in the Alamo, where he devotedthe balance of the evening to a sullen consumption of rum.
Several months elapsed, and Dodge had felt no ill effects fromProhibition. Whiskey was obtainable at usual prices in the Alamo, theAlhambra, the Long Branch, the Dance Hall, and what other haunts made afeature of liquid inspiration. Dodge was satisfied. Dodge was practicaland never complained of any law until it was enforced. Since such hadnot been the case with those statutes of prohibition, Dodge was content.The herds as aforetime came up from Texas in the fall; as aforetime thecowboys mirthfully divided their equal money between whiskey, monte andquadrilles. The folk of Dodge thereat were pleased. No one, official,had come to molest them or make them afraid, and a first resentfulinterest in prohibition was dying down.
This condition of calm persisted undisturbed until one afternoon whenthe telegraph operator came over to the Alhambra, pale and shaken,bearing a yellow message. The message told how the Attorney General, andthe President of the Prohibition League were to be in Dodge next day,with a fell purpose of making desolate that jocund hamlet by anenforcement of the laws. The visitors would dismantle Dodge of itsimpudent defiance; they would destroy it with affidavits, plow and sowits site with salt in the guise of warrants of arrest. When they werefinished, the Alhambra, the Long Branch, the Alamo, the Dance Hall andkindred kindly emporiums would be as springs that had run dry, while,captives in the town's calaboose, their proprietors wore irons andlanguished. To add insult to injury, those exalted ones promised thatwhen they had cleansed Dodge and placed it upon a rumless footing, theywould address what citizens were not in jail and strive to show them theerror of their sodden ways and teach them to lead a happier and asoberer life.
In Disapproval of Its Drinks.]
When Mr. Masterson withdrew to Arizona, he did not expect to soon returnto Dodge. He found, however, that despite Tombstone and its pleasures hedragged a sense of loneliness about, and oft caught himself wonderingwhat Mr. Wright and Mr. Kelly and Mr. Short and the rest of the boyswere doing. At last, giving as excuse, that he ought to put a wire fenceabout a sand-blown stretch of desert that was his and which layblistering on the south side of the Arkansas in the near vicinity ofDodge, he resolved upon a visit. He would remain a fortnight. It wouldbe a vacation--he hadn't had one since the Black Kettle campaign--anddoubtless serve to wear away the edge of those regrets which preyed uponhim when now he no longer conserved the peace of Dodge with a Colt's-45.There comes a joy with office holding, even when the office is oneattractive of invidious lead, and in the newness of laying down thatpost of Sheriff, Mr. Masterson should not be criticised because theghost of an ache shot now and then across his soul.
The first day of Mr. Masterson's return was devoted to a renewal of oldties--a bit parched, with ten months of Arizona. The second day, Mr.Masterson invested in wandering up and down and indulging himself in atender survey of old landmarks. Here was the sign-post against which hesteadied himself when he winged that obstreperous youth from theC-bar-K, who had fired his six-shooter into the Alhambra in disapprovalof Mr. Kelly's wares. It was a good shot; for the one resentful ofAlhambra whiskey was fully one hundred yards away and on the run. Later,the C-bar-K boy admitted that the Alhambra whiskey was not so bad, andhis slam-bang denunciation of it uncalled for. At that, Mr. Masterson,first paying a doctor to dig his lead from the boy's shoulder, gave himhis freedom again.
"If Kell's whiskey had been really bad," said Mr. Masterson, "I wouldhave been the last to interfere with the resentment of a gentleman whohad suffered from it. But I was familiar with the brand, and knew,therefore, how that cowboy unlimbered in merest wantonness. Under suchconditions, I could not, and do my duty, permit him to go unrebuked."
Half a block further, and Mr. Masterson stood in front of the FirstNational Bank. Mr. Masterson recalled this arena of finance as the placewherein he borrowed the shotgun with which he cooled the ardour of Mr.Bowman when that warrior made the long journey from Trinidad with thegallant purpose, announced widely in advance, of shooting up the town.Looking into the double muzzle of the 10-gauge, the doughty one fromTrinidad saw that which changed his plans. Turning his hardware over toMr. Masterson, he took a drink in amity with that hard-working officer,and then embarked upon a festival, conducted with a scrupulous regardfor the general peace, which lasted four full days.
Across from the bank was the warehouse, the wooden walls of whichdisplayed the furrows ploughed by Mr. Masterson's bull
ets on the daywhen he fought the three gentleman from Missouri. They wereweather-stained, those furrows, with the rains that had intervened. Mr.Masterson being a sentimentalist sighed over his trademarks, and thoughtof those pleasant times when they were fresh. Fifty yards beyond stoodthe little hotel where the dead were carried. It was a good hotel, andin that hour celebrated for its bar; remembering which, Mr. Mastersonrepaired thither in the name of thirst.
Mr. Masterson was leaning on the counter, and telling the proprietorthat the lustre of his whiskey had been in no sort dimmed, when theword--just then delivered by the wires--reached him of that proposedinvasion in the cause of prohibition. It was Mr. Wright who bore thetidings, and the face of that merchant prince showed grave.
"Well," said Mr. Masterson, in tones of relief, "you see, Bob, that Iwas right when I resigned. I'd be in a box now if I were Sheriff."
"What is your idea of a course?" asked Mr. Wright. "It stands to reasonthat the camp can't go dry; at the same time I wouldn't want to see itmeander into trouble."
It was thought wise by Mr. Wright, after exhaustively conferring withMr. Masterson, to call a meeting of the male inhabitants of Dodge. Theremight be discovered in a multitude of counsel some pathway that wouldlead them out of this law-trap, while permitting them to drink.
Mr. Wright presided at the meeting, which was large. There werespeeches, some for peace and some for war, but none which opened anygate. Dodge was where it started, hostile, but undecided. Somebodycalled on Mr. Masterson; what would he suggest? Mr. Masterson, being noorator and fluent only with a gun, tried to escape. However, over-urgedby Mr. Wright, he spake as follows:
"Gentlemen," said Mr. Masterson, "I was so recently your Sheriff thatthe habit of upholding law and maintaining order is still strong uponme, and it may be that, thus crippled, I am but ill qualified to judgeof the wisdom of ones who have counseled killing and scalping theseprohibition people who will favour Dodge to-morrow afternoon. Myimpression, however, is that such action, while perhaps natural underthe circumstances, would be grossly premature. It would bring down theState upon us, and against such odds even Dodge might not sustainherself. All things considered, my advice is this: Close every saloon anhour before our visitors arrive, and keep them closed while they remain.Every man--for there would be no sense in enduring hardshipsuselessly--should provide himself in advance with say a gallon. Thesaloons closed, our visitors would be powerless. What a man doesn't seehe doesn't know; and those emissaries of a tyrannous prohibition wouldbe unable to make oath. In the near finish, they would leave. Once theyhad departed, Dodge could again go forward on its liberty-loving way.Those are my notions, gentlemen; and above all I urge that nothing likeviolence be indulged in. Let our visitors enter and depart in peace. Donot put it within their power to say that Dodge was not a haven ofpeace. You must remember that not alone your liberty but your credit isat stake, and play a quiet hand according."
While Mr. Wright and that conservative contingent which he representedapproved the counsel of Mr. Masterson, there were others who condemnedit. At the head of these latter was the turbulent Bear Creek Johnson.After the meeting had adjourned, that riot-urging individual branded thewords of Mr. Masterson as pusillanimous. For himself, the least that BearCreek would consent to was the roping up of the visitors the moment theyappeared. They were to be dragged at the hocks of a brace of cow-poniesuntil such time as they renounced their iniquitous mission, and promisedrespect to Dodge's appetites and needs.
"As for that Masterson party," said the bitter Bear Creek, who beingfive drinks ahead was pot-valiant, "what's he got to do with the play?He got cold feet an' quit ten months ago. Now he allows he'll comebuttin' in an' tell people what kyards to draw, an' how to fill an' bettheir hands. Some gent ought to wallop a gun over his head. An' if somegent don't, I sort o' nacherally reckon I'll about do the trick myse'f."
Since Bear Creek Johnson reserved these views for souls who were insympathy therewith, meanwhile concealing the same from such as Mr.Masterson and Mr. Wright, there arose no one to contradict him. Madebold by silent acquiescence, and exalted of further drinks, Bear Creekdrew about him an outcast coterie in the rear room of Mr. Webster'sAlamo. It was there, with Bear Creek to take the lead, they laid theirheads together for the day to come.
There be men on earth who are ever ready for trouble that, specifically,isn't trouble of their own. They delight in dancing when others pay thefiddler. Numbers of such gathered with the radical Bear Creek; and beinggathered, he and they pooled their wicked wits in devising fardels forthose expected enemies.
When, next day, our executives of prohibition came into Dodge, they wereamazed, while scarcely gratified, to find every rum shop locked up fastand tight. The Dance Hall, the Alhambra, the Long Branch and the Alamo,acting on the hint of Mr. Masterson, had closed their doors, and not adrink of whiskey, not even for rattlesnake-bite, could have been boughtfrom one end of the street to the other. Not that this paucity ofrum-selling seemed to bear heavily upon the community. There were neverso many gentlemen of Dodge whom one might describe as wholly andsuccessfully drunk. The boardwalks were thronged with their staggeringranks, as the visitors made a tour of the place.
The visitors were pompous, well-fed men of middle age; and while theysaid they had come to perform a duty, one skilled in man-reading mighthave told at a glance that their great purpose was rather to ticklevanity, and demonstrate how unsparing would be their spirit when thequestion became one of moral duty.
When the duo first appeared their faces wore a ruddy, arrogant hue. Asthey went about upon that tour of inspection they began to pale. Therewas something in the lowering eye of what fragment of the public lookedto the leadership of Bear Creek Johnson, to whiten them.
Pale as linen three times bleached, following fifteen minutes spentabout the streets, the visitors--their strutting pomposity visiblyreduced--made a shortest wake to Gallon's, being the hostelry theydesigned to honour with their custom. Gallon's was a boarding-housedistinguished as "Prohibition," and the visitors proposed to illustrateit and give it fashion in the estimation of sober men, by bestowing uponit their patronage. Two hours later, the proprietor would have paidmoney to dispense with the advertisement.
Once the invaders were housed, by twos and fives and tens, thedisengaged inhabitants of Dodge began to assemble in front of Gallon's.Some came in a temper of curiosity. The band with Bear Creek Johnson,however, entertained a different feeling. Their taste was for thestrenuous. They set forth this fact with imitations of the yelp of thecoyote. Withal, they were constantly closing up about the refuge of thevisitors, until they stood, a packed and howling mob, with which it wasno more than a question of minutes before ugly action would begin.
Bear Creek Johnson was in the van, fostering and fomenting a sentimentfor violence. The unworthy Bear Creek was not lacking in qualities ofleadership; he realised, as by an instinct, that a mob must have time topen before it is put to work. Wherefore, Bear Creek, while cursing andthreatening with the rest, delayed. He paused, as it were, with histhumb on the angry pulse of the multitude, waiting to seize the momentpsychological.
Hemmed in by four hundred pushing, threatening, cursing, human wolves,those agents of prohibition whitely sat and shivered. They knew theirperil; also they felt that sense of utter helplessness which will onlycome to men when forced to face the brainless fury of a mob. What shouldbe done? What could be done? In that moment of extremity the proprietorof the boarding-house, with the fear of death upon him, could think ofnothing beyond sending for Mr. Wright.
To be courier in this hour of strain a girl of twelve was sent out by arear door. There was craft in this selection of a messenger. No Westernmob, however bloody of intention, would dream of interfering with agirl. Besides, Mr. Wright would never refuse a girl's request.
Mr. Wright might have been as pleased had he not been called upon. Tooppose the insurrectionists was neither a work of pleasure nor ofsafety, and the opportunity to thus put himself in feud with a halfregiment of m
en whose blood was up, and with whom when the smoke ofbattle blew aside he must still do business, could not be called a boon.But the little girl's lips were blue with terror, and her frightenedeyes showed round and big, as she besought Mr. Wright to save the lifeof her father--it was he to be proprietor of Gallon's--and the lives ofthose visiting gentlemen, representative of prohibition. Getting wearilyup from the poker game in which he was employed, Mr. Wright made readyto go with the little girl.
"You had better come too, Bat," said Mr. Wright, addressing Mr.Masterson. "I think you can do more with a Dodge mob than I can. They'veseen more of your shooting."
"Of course I'll go, Bob," returned Mr. Masterson, laying down areluctant hand in which dwelt a pair of aces--a highly hopeful pairbefore the draw!--"of course I'll go. But it seems hard that I must leavejust when the hands are beginning to run my way. I wish Bear Creek hadput off this uprising another hour. I'd have been a mile on velvet."
When Mr. Masterson and Mr. Wright arrived at the seat of war, the mobwas more or less impressed and its howls lost half their volume. Mr.Masterson and Mr. Wright walked through the close-set ranks, and went inby the front door. No back door for Mr. Masterson and Mr. Wright;especially under the eyes of ones whom they must presently outface.
"What is your desire, gentlemen?" asked Mr. Masterson, when he and Mr.Wright found themselves with the beleaguered ones.
"There is a train in an hour and thirty minutes," replied the AttorneyGeneral. He showed the colour of a sheet, but his upper lip was stifferthan was that of his companion, which twitched visibly. "Can you put usaboard?"
"Now I don't see why not," returned Mr. Masterson.
"Don't see why not!" exclaimed the President of the Prohibition League;"don't see why not! You hear those murderers outside, and you don't seewhy not!" It should be mentioned in the gentleman's defence that hisnerves were a-jangle. "Don't see why not!" he murmured, sinking back asa deeper roar came from without.
"Don't let the racket outside disturb you," said Mr. Masterson in areassuring tone. "We'll manage to get that outfit back in its corral."
"But do you guarantee our safety?" gasped the other.
"As to that," returned Mr. Masterson, "you gentlemen understand that Iam not issuing life insurance. What I say is this: Whoever gets you willhave to go over me to make the play."
Mr. Masterson and Mr. Wright conversed apart. There was no haste; themob would confine itself to threats and curses while they remained inthe house.
"Perhaps I'd better give 'em a talk, Bob," said Mr. Masterson, at theclose of their confab. "There are two things to do. We must get rid ofBear Creek. And we must let it look like the rest of 'em had taken atrick. I think I'll suggest that we make our visitors give us thosetemperance speeches. They won't want to do it; and if we let the boyssort o' compel them to be eloquent, they'll most likely quit satisfied.If we don't do something of the kind, it's my opinion they'll take ashot at us before ever we place these shuddering strangers on thetrain."
"Do what you reckon best," returned Mr. Wright. "I'll back your game."
Mr. Masterson opened the front door and, with Mr. Wright, stepped forth.He considered the mob a moment with a quiet eye, and then raised hishand as if to invite attention.
"Gentlemen," said he, "if I talk to you, it's on your account. Thepeople inside, in whose honour you've assembled, intend to board thefirst train for the East."
"Board nothin'! Let's swing 'em off!" cried a cowboy from south of theriver. He was carrying his lariat in his hand; as he spoke he whirledthe loop about his head, knocking off the sombreros of those nearesthim. "Let's swing 'em off!" he shouted.
"I'll swing you off, if you don't give that rope a rest!" returned anirate one, unhatted, and with that he collared the child of cows, andthrew him backward into the press. "Go on, Bat," said this auxiliary,having abated the cowboy and his rope; "give us the layout of yourlittle game."
"My little game," continued Mr. Masterson calmly, "is this: I've passedmy word that no harm shall come to these people. And for this reason. Ifthey were even a little injured, the prohibition papers would makebloody murder of it. Inside of hours, the soldiers from the Fort wouldbe among us, and the town under martial law. They would be sending youprairie dogs to bed at nine o'clock, with a provost marshal to tuck youin; and none of you would like that. I wouldn't like it myself."
"Let the soldiers come!" shouted Bear Creek Johnson from the extremewing of the mob. Bear Creek had drawn from the whiskey under his belt amore than normal courage. Moreover, he felt that it was incumbent uponhim to make a stand. Considering those plans he had laid, and whichincluded driving Mr. Masterson out of town should he have the impudenceto stand in their way, Bear Creek knew that otherwise he would bedisparaged in the estimation of his followers and suffer in his goodrepute. He resolved to put forward a bold face, and bully Mr. Masterson."Let the soldiers come!" Bear Creek repeated. "We won't ask BatMasterson to give us any help."
"Is that you, Bear Creek?" observed Mr. Masterson, turning on thatpopular idol.
Mr. Masterson stepped off the porch and walked down upon the grass. Thisbrought Bear Creek clear of the herd. No one, in case Bear Creek becamea target, would be in line of Mr. Masterson's fire. Bear Creek noticedthis as something sinister.
"I reckon now," continued Mr. Masterson, still edging in between BearCreek and his reserves, "that in case of trouble, you would takecommand, and run the soldiers out." Then, solemnly, while Mr. Wrightfrom the porch scanned those to the rear of Mr. Masterson for anearliest hostile sign: "Bear Creek, you've been holding forth thatyou're a heap bad, but I, for one, am unconvinced. I understand how yousnuffed out the soldier at Fort Lyons; but I also understand how thatsoldier was dead drunk. I've likewise heard how you bumped off the partyon the Cimarron; at the same time that party was plumb tender and notheeled. Wherefore, I decline to regard those incidents as tests. Youmust give Dodge a more conclusive proof of gameness before you candictate terms to the camp. You've got your irons! What do you wear 'emfor?"
As though to point the question, Mr. Masterson's six-shooter jumped fromits belt, and exploded in the direction of Bear Creek. The big bullettore the ground two inches from his right foot. With a screech ofdismay, Bear Creek soared into the air.
Even while Mr. Masterson was talking, Bear Creek Johnson's fortitude hadbeen sweating itself away. The catlike creeping in between him and hisconstituents had also served to unhinge him. Indeed he was in such framethat the sudden explosion of Mr. Masterson's pistol exploded with it hishysteria. Bear Creek could do nothing but make the shameful screechingleap described.
Away went his nerves like a second flock of frightened sheep when, justas he felt the grass again beneath him, there came a second flash, and asecond bullet buried itself in the ground, grazing his left foot. BearCreek made another skyward leap, and evolved another horror-bittenscreech to which the first was as a whisper. When he came down, a thirdbullet ripped a furrow between his legs.
Bear Creek Johnson had so far recovered possession of himself that atthe third shot he didn't leap. He ran. The ignoble Bear Creek fled fromthe blazing Mr. Masterson with a speed that would have amazed theantelopes.
"It's as I thought!" remarked Mr. Masterson, regretfully; "quit like adog, and never even reached for his gun!" Then, returning to the public,which had been vastly interested by those exercises in which Bear Creekhad performed, Mr. Masterson resumed. "As I was saying, when Bear Creekinterrupted me, I've given my word to the folks inside that they shallnot meet with injury. But there's one matter upon which, if you'll backme up, I'd like to enter." At this, certain scowls which wrinkled thebrows of the more defiant, began to abate by the fraction of a shadow."These men," went on Mr. Masterson, "made boasts before they came herethat they would speak on temperance and prohibition. I understand, fromwhat they now say, that they have given up this design. I don't likethat. I don't want them running into the papers with a lie about thelawlessness of Dodge, and how we wouldn't permit free speech. If I wereyo
u, I'd have these Ciceros out, cost what it might, and they'd eithermake those speeches or give a reason why."
"You're dead right, Bat," cried one enthusiast. "Smoke 'em out! Make 'emtalk! If they've got anything ag'inst whiskey, let 'em spit it out. Idon't owe whiskey a splinter; an', you bet! these trantlers ain't goin'back to Topeka, poisonin' the public mind, and putting it up that Dodgewasn't safe to talk in."
"Taking the gentleman's remarks," observed Mr. Masterson gravely, "asreflecting the common sentiment, I move you that Mr. Wright beinstructed to go to our visitors and say that we're waiting withimpatience to hear them on the dual topics of temperance in its moralaspects, and prohibition as a police regulation of the State. Those infavour say, Ay!"
There was a thunder-gust of Ays!
"The Ays have it," confirmed Mr. Masterson. "Bob, will you go inside andget the muzzles off the orators? When ready, parade 'em before thisenlightened and sympathetic audience, and tell 'em they've never hadsuch a chance to distinguish themselves since the Mexican War."
Mr. Wright withdrew in submission to instructions. While he was absent,Mr. Masterson indulged his audience with a few more words, lowering hisvoice as though what he said were confidential.
"Mr. Wright," remarked Mr. Masterson, "will shortly appear with ourvisitors. During the exercises, I trust that nothing trenching upondisturbance will be indulged in. I shall preside; and I need not callattention to the fact that there are still three cartridges in my gun.Also, I might add that I don't always shoot at a party's moccasins andmiss."
It was the only thing they could do. With Mr. Masterson and Mr. Wrightto give them courage, and despair to lend them grace, those visitingones spake upon whiskey as the Devil's broth and the hideous evils ofintemperance. All things considered, they made excellent addresses. Notthe best that was in them, perhaps; but what then? Patrick Henry wouldhave fumbled for a word were he to feel that at any moment an auditormight step forward and edit a faulty sentence with his Colt's. It is tothe glory of Dodge, that the orators were broken in upon by nothing morelethal than applause, while each was made prouder by a whirlwind ofcheers when he closed.
It was evening in the Alhambra. Those prohibition folk were distant byone hundred safe and healthful miles, and Dodge had returned to the eventenor of its ways. Suddenly Mr. Wright delivered himself of thisreproof.
"There's one fault I've got to find, Bat; there's one thing I won't getover soon. Why, I ask you, why, when you had him dead to rights, did youmiss that Bear Creek?"
"I know how you feel, Bob," returned Mr. Masterson in a manner ofself-reproach, "and I despair of framing up an apology that will squareme with Dodge. Why didn't I down Bear Creek? It will soundchildish"--here Mr. Masterson's eye took on a twinkle that was sly--"but,Bob, I'm no longer sheriff; and, between us, I'm afraid I don't shoottrue in my private capacity."
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