Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 164: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

506 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. shoot this out with me, let him show him- self,” he said, threateningly, swinging the muzzle of his weapon along the line of faces. — A quick retreat on the part of those nearest marked the respect with which it was considered. Frantically they strove to push further back into the mob, clawing and elbowing. “If you try any more shots,” he con- tinued, speaking in Spanish as _ before, “‘ those rifles will open fire.”” He paused to allow ethis information to have full effect. “ Finally, if you attempt wrecking this jail, the three hundred workmen from the dam will march down to San Mateo and teach you proper observance of the law. If you’re really looking for trouble, those three hun- dred men will give this town sufficient trou- ble that will be remembered for twenty years.” Standing there in the moonlight between the two parties, the thin line of sentinels about the jail and the dense mob in front, Steele Weir’s action seemed the height of rashness. A rush of the Mexicans and he would be overwhelmed, a cowardly shot from somewhere in the rear and he might be killed. It was like inviting disaster. If, however, he recognized his danger, he gave no sign of it. By the power of his gun and his sheer boldness he faced them, calm, fearless, masterful. The unexpected advance of him had surprised the Mexi- cans, left them confused and uncertain. Wild and sinister tales’ concerning his prowess magnified him in their eyes not- withstanding their animosity. Now they seemed to feel his iron will beating against their faces. During the pause that ensued Weir heard the jail door open. Madden was preparing to take his prisoners out. “I’m not seeking trouble, but I’m not avoiding it,” the engineer proceeded, for this was the critical minute, and he sought to have all eyes focused upon him instead of upon the activity at his back. ‘‘ The sheriff represents the law here in San Mateo, ‘and I give you plain warning that every man who attempts violence to-night will be called upon to pay the account. By to- ‘morrow the governor may have soldiers sta- tioned in your houses and in your streets, for the prisoners are now the exclusive prisoners of the State, arrested for stealing cattle—”’ That was a happy inspiration. Had Weir stated the whole category of Sorenson’s and Burkhardt’s crimes, including murder and dynamiting, he would not have struck so shrewdly as in naming the sin of cattle- Stealing. For this was a cattle country, and even the most ignorant Mexican could grasp the significance of this charge. A visible stir answered the statement. “For stealing cattle from other men ”’— he did not trouble to mention the fact the crime had occurred thirty years previous— “and for that, and other things, Sheriff Madden has arrested them. Because they are rich, their guilt is all the worse. Per- haps they have taken cattle belonging to you—who knows? That may come out in their trial; if they have taken them, you shall have them back.” From the rear of the grounds came the low sound of automobile engines being started. Weir dared not look about to learn if Madden and his party were safely on their way thither. As for the Mexi- cans, the speaker’s words had created a sensation. For men there were there who owned small herds now feeding on the range, and from anger their minds yielded to sudden anxiety; each saw himself a possible sufferer from cattle depredations; and in the minds of these, at least, thought of loss supplanted thought of Sorenson and Burkhardt. “J helped Sheriff Madden arrest these men because they stole cattle, possibly some of your steers among. them. Is that why you would like to lyncfme, as I’ve heard you wanted to do?” he demanded, savagely. ‘“‘ Because I save your animals? Or is it because I shot that renegade Mexican whom Ed Sorenson hired to try and kill me? “Ed Sorenson, yes. Sheriff Madden has the knowledge of it. Not only would Sor- enson, the father, like to see me die because IT know about his cattle-stealing, but Ed Sorenson, the son, hired that ‘strange Mex- ican to shoot me from the dark because I stopped him from trying to steal a girl. Has ee ECoOnniclboooks Co mM