ESTABLISHING HIS POSITION. 



A. A. E. 



Several years ago I was enjoying to the 

 full a hunt in the Drowned Lands of the 

 St. Francis river, then an ideal spot for one 

 fond of primeval nature and a mixed bag ; 

 for we really hunted, and frequently killed 

 deer, turkeys, ducks and squirrels ; but our 

 mam reliance was the lordly mallard. The 

 lucky hunter who has felt the tingling 

 thrill as a big lusty greenhead breaks 

 through the entangling cane in his upward 

 spring will agree that of all duck shooting, 

 jumping mallard holds the palm. 



There was then, and may be now, a clause 

 in the game law of the State imposing a 

 gun tax on the non-resident gunner, but 

 no one seemed to pay any attention to it. 

 I had not taken out a license, so it was with 

 a sense of guilt that I heard the sheriff 

 was in the camp, when we returned late 

 from an all day shoot. My host, Mr. 

 Frienze, also seemed worried, though he 

 put a bold front on the matter, and to- 

 gether we faced the music. A tall, gaunt 

 man, flannel clad, trousers in boots, slouch 

 hat, met us at the door. Frienze did the 

 honors gracefully, and the 2 disappeared 

 behind the log cabin whence at intervals 

 their voices came to me in apparently 

 heated discussion. I shifted into dry cloth- 

 in, and then interviewed the cook as to an 

 extra duck or so, which I had finally per- 

 suaded him not to skin and dry to a crisp 

 under pretense of cooking, but to treat in 

 a civilized manner. Presently the pair ap- 

 peared, and, after telling me Jones had 

 called to see me about my gun license, 

 Frienze withdrew and left us alone. I sug- 

 gested we defer the question until I had 

 done the honors of the camp in a stemming 

 magnum, for the nights were cold. While 

 consenting, the sheriff did not thaw, and 

 it was only after a large supply that he 

 unbent. Finally he consented to stop and 

 take pot luck with us. 



The ducks, underdone to a turn, were a 

 revelation to* him, and as he did full justice 

 to them, he unbent, so that when we ad- 

 journed to the only other room and he 

 lighted his pipe, he was approachable. 



From the first I was devoured by curi- 

 osity to know how he had acquired a 

 ghastly, hardly healed scar, commencing at 

 the corner of his right eye, dividing his 

 nose and ending at the point of his jaw, 

 leaving a welt almost a finger broad across 

 his face. This, together with his back- 

 woods dress, his errand and the surround- 



ings, made a typical picture of a real bad 

 man of the Southwest, and I was sure there 

 was a story worth hearing connected with 

 the scar. I administered yet another toddy 

 and ventured to ask him how he got that 

 scar. Instantly he froze, and grunted : 



"I done never like to talk 'bout that." 



I assured him I intended nothing per- 

 sonal ; that I knew an officer might have a 

 hard time doing his duty among the law- 

 breakers of such a hard county as his, and 

 I was sure he had received it in an honor- 

 able encounter. This smoothed his ruffled 

 feathers, and after a pause he said, "Wall, 

 ye see, hits this-a-way. When I was 

 'lected shurriff hyre, a moughty bad man 

 that was a makin' a heap o' trouble, he 

 'lowed how as this hyre county wasn't big 

 enough for to hold both on us, and he did 

 a heap of disrespectful and pisin' talkin'. 

 Now, I don't hanker for no trouble, but if 

 hit's goter come, my way is to go for hit, 

 not around hit ; so as soon as I got well 

 fixed in office, I got onter my crittur and 

 went down to the timber camp where he 

 was workin'. Well, I rally waren't count- 

 in' on havin' trouble. I wanted to talk hit 

 over ; but, sirs, as soon as the ornary cuss 

 saw me a comin' he let out a yell, an' the 

 whole passil on 'em come a runnin' ! I jes' 

 told 'em hit was a trouble o' hisen and 

 mine, and they formed a ring while I got 

 off my hoss and got ready for bisness," and 

 standing up with a fierce light blazing in 

 his eyes, he reached down to his boot top 

 and pulled out the most blood curdling 

 knife I had ever seen. Then he resumed. 



"Fie was too blaim quick for me, though, 

 and caught me a wipe across the face" — a 

 pause, while he held the glittering, murder- 

 ous knife poised in mid air. 



"Well ?" I questioned breathlesslyy. 



"Well," he continued, "I jes' let him 

 have it in his dinner. I drawed it across, 

 turned it back" — acting the scene. 



"Well ?" I again asked, as he paused. 



"Oh, well ; that's all ; 'cept they buried 

 him nex' mornin' and I was a blaim long 

 time gettin' 'round again. But there haint 

 none of the fellers 'round here that 'sputes 

 my say so now ; and, stranger, 'bout that 

 matter o' yer shootin' — you jes' go on an' 

 shoot all you want ter. If any feller axes 

 you 'bout hit, jes' tell 'em I tole you to, 

 and you won't be bothered." 



I was not ; except by bad dreams for a 

 while. 



What do you get out of your garden? 

 "Bills."— Life. 



22S 



