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Updated: June 23, 2025
Pogue disappeared; folks say he went to the States. The three-fingered tramp never turned up again, and about this time the serious robberies in the region ceased. Three years afterward they learned that two burglars had been shot while escaping from an American penitentiary. One of them was undoubtedly Dick Pogue, and the other was described as a big dark man with three fingers on the right hand.
"Gutsho, alanna? thurm pogue? come here, child, and kiss me," said Owen to his little namesake; "an' sure I can't forget the little woman here; gutsho, a colleen, and kiss: me too." Owen took her on his knee, and kissed her twice. "Och, but poor Kathleen," said he, "will be the proud woman of this, when she hears it; in throth she will be that." "Arrah! what's comin' over me!" said Mrs. Farrell.
My almost gownless condition has been a cause of great worry to me, but Pogue has promised to fix up my wardrobe with a rush, and after the necessary time for that in Cincinnati, I will hurry on to Columbus Barracks for my promised visit to Doctor and Mrs. Gordon. Then on home!
"And that's why I say," concluded Ferguson Pogue, "that a woman is too busy occupied with her natural vocation and instinct of graft such as is given her for self-preservation and amusement to make any great success in special lines." "What was in the bundle that they left?" I asked, with my usual curiosity.
When I am flush I know them places. "I declare, I must have looked as bad as a magazine artist sitting there without any money and my hair all rumpled like I was booked to read a chapter from 'Elsie's School Days' at a Brooklyn Bohemian smoker. But Vaucross treated me like a bear hunter's guide. He wasn't afraid of hurting the waiter's feelings. "'Mr. Pogue, he explains to me, 'I am using you.
"Consarn me!" said Caleb. "Are you sure?" "Come and see for yourself." Yes! It surely was true, and Caleb on the road back said, "Yan, don't say a word of this to the others just now." The old Trapper went to the Pogue house at once. He found the tracks repeated in the dust near the door, but they certainly were not made by Dick. On a line was a pair of muddy trousers drying.
Course he blamed me, but I didn't have any shootin'-iron then; my revolver, the white one, was stole from me a week before along with them same letters, I expect. I consider they was put there to lay the blame on me, an' it was a little overdone, most folks would think. Well, then your Da set Dick Pogue on me, an' I lost my farm that's all."
And this is the story that Tommy Eyres and Lancelot Gilliam brought back with them from their latest European tour. The other day I ran across my old friend Ferguson Pogue. Pogue is a conscientious grafter of the highest type.
His headquarters is the Western Hemisphere, and his line of business is anything from speculating in town lots on the Great Staked Plains to selling wooden toys in Connecticut, made by hydraulic pressure from nutmegs ground to a pulp. Now and then when Pogue has made a good haul he comes to New York for a rest.
A. L. Cooper, Bessie Lee Pogue, Helen Wixson, Anna M. Scott, Carrie Marshall, Nora B. Wright, Laura Holtzschneider, Hattie Howard, Rosetta Webb, Sarah Purchase, Helen Bedford, Inez Johnson Lewis, Eva Rinkle, Evangeline Heartz, Louisa M. Tyler, Mary Nichols, Helen Miller, Louise Blanchard, Margaret Keating, Lillian Hartman Johnson.
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