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Yeretofore the old Cimmaron goes over to Red Dog for his plunder, the same bein' a busted low-down camp on the Lordsburg trail, which once holds it's a rival to Wolfville. It ain't, however; the same not bein' of the same importance, commercial, as a prairie-dog town. "This time, however, Crawfish pints up for Wolfville.
For a couple of hours he sat in the smoking section and discussed politics with a Chicago drummer. He knew that Frank was very tired, and he let him sleep till the diner was taken on at Lordsburg. Then he excused himself to the traveling man. "I reckon I better go and wake up my pardner. I see the chuck-wagon is toddling along behind us."
One can judge that quality by an affair which took place at Stein's Pass. "Steen's Pass," as the old-timers spelled it and as the name is still pronounced is a gap in the mountains just west of Lordsburg, New Mexico. The Southern Pacific comes through it to-day.
Our information is ample that a-way; how he steals a hoss at Tucson; how be robs a gent last fall at Tombstone; how he downs a party at Cruces; how that scar on his neck he gets from Wells-Fargo's people when he stands up the stage over on the Lordsburg trail. But we lays it all aside to- day. We don't copper nary bet.
"But about Doc Peets an' me pullin' out from Lordsburg for Wolfville that evenin': Our ponies is puttin' the landscape behind 'em at a good road-gait when we notes a brace of them Road Runners with wings half lifted, pacin' to match our speed along the trail in front. As Road Runners is frequent with us, our minds don't bother with 'em none.
Recently down at Lordsburg, with the outfit shipping a train load of beeves, he had seen the Overland Express empty its load of passengers for supper, a crowd of well-dressed men and women, the latter brilliant with the bright colors cowboys love and with glittering gems. To-night he got to thinking about them. Wherever did they all come from? How ever did they get so much money?
The next afternoon they quietly rode out of town and joined their respective outfits, to wait until the excitement should blow over. Of course the telegraph soon started the hue and cry. Officers from Silver, Deming, and Lordsburg were soon on the ground, led by Harvey Whitehill, the famous old sheriff of Grant County. But of clue there was none.
"'Feel like makin' a little wager this A. M.? says Doc. "'What do you-all want to gamble at? says Wilkins. "'Oh, says Doc, 'I'm feelin' a heap careless about what I do gamble at. S'pose I goes you ten dollars's worth of grub the Lordsburg buckboard don't show up none to-day?
The men risked a fire, since they were in the shadow of a ridge, and when the coffee-pot was steaming seated themselves on the ground, in a close circle. For the first time since midnight one spoke. It was Johnson. "We'll hold west of Lordsburg," he declared, sweeping his eyes gloatingly over the herd. "Francisco Espor and his gang over the line'll weep when they see that bunch for joy!"
"The next is the Los Angeles Christian Home. And here's what they wrote about her in El Paso: 'Her histrionic genius for one so young' it commences below that picture. That's Leola." I now recognized the black stockings and the hair. "Here's what a literary lady in Lordsburg thinks," pursued Mrs. Mattern. "Never mind that," murmured Leola. "I shall." And the mother read the letter to me.
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