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“But,” added the prisoner, whose name was Evans, “I doubt if they ever reach Frankfort. I reckon Red Bill will find some means of getting rid of them before he gets there.” Captain Huffman listened to this story with horror. “If this miscreant makes way with Lieutenant Pennington and Nevels, I will hunt him to his death, if it takes ten years,” he declared.
One of the soldiers coolly took the halter off his horse, fastened it around Calhoun’s neck, threw the other end over the projecting limb of a tree, and stood awaiting orders. Once more an ignominious death stared Calhoun in the face, and there was no Captain Huffman near to rescue him. It looked as if nothing could save him, but his self-possession did not forsake him.
The bet afforded much amusement to the officers, but all of them looked upon it as a very foolish bet on the part of Calhoun. “That twenty-five is gone,” said Huffman to Calhoun, as he pocketed the stakes, “but I am sure of having fifty dollars for at least two months.” “I reckon I shall lose,” said Calhoun, “but Mathews had better not let Shackelford get sight of his horse.”
Morgan’s loss in the battle was only five killed and twenty wounded; but among the latter was the brave Captain Huffman, who had an arm shattered. Colonel Basil Duke, in this fight, won the highest praise from Morgan for the masterly manner in which he handled his regiment. It was greatly owing to the efforts of Colonel Duke that the victory was won.
That is to say, H. Huffman Browne had appeared as his attorney, and demanded his share of the property which had been deposited to his credit with the City Chamberlain and amounted to seventy-five hundred dollars. The lawyer had presented a petition signed apparently by Wilson and a bond also subscribed by him, to which had been appended the names of certain sureties.
At first he denied knowing anything of the affair, saying he had heard nothing of a fight. But when Captain Huffman ordered a rope to be brought and it was placed around his neck, he begged piteously, saying that if they would spare his life he would tell them all he knew. And this is what he told them: He belonged to a band led by a man known as “Red Bill” from his florid complexion.
Other attacks are of a much more explicable nature. Mr. Huffman, the photographer of Miles City, informed me once when butchering some slaughtered elk he was charged twice by a she-bear and two well-grown cubs.
Then turning to Evans, he asked: “Did any of the gang side with Red Bill?” “Yes, five of them did, and stayed with him,” was the answer. “And you men, at least twenty of you, by your own story, coolly left our men to be foully murdered?” furiously demanded Captain Huffman. The prisoner hung his head, but did not answer. “Answer!” thundered Huffman.
The boys lost no time in getting down from the cattle-pen fence, and the car had barely stopped when they were aboard. "Hooray," shouted Charlie Huffman, "we'll all get jobs of passin' bills." And it was with this end in view that they sought the advertising manager in the car, who promised to give them all jobs when the circus came in two weeks. The boys deluged him with questions of every sort.
It is a strange incident that all the above-named men are native North Carolinians, but First Sergeant Huffman, who is from Tennessee. The Negro played a most important part in the Spanish-American war.
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