Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 325: what you’re looking at

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

316 flunkey’s red coat, as this is a strictly American community. Unwillingness upon “ His Lordship’s ” part to comply with these commands will place us un- der the painful necessity of making a pepper box of the hat and a total wreck of the aforesaid umbrella.’ “* And we’re all—aw—dead shots,’ drawled Terry, {rom the depths of his chair, in an exaggerated imitation of ‘His Lordship’s ' tone. “ Almost any man would have gone fairly wild at the cool insolence of this harangue, but it didn’t phase Chumley a bit. He might have been an Aztec god as far as his face expressed any emotion. “He listened to us in silence, and bowed coldly, remarking in a most ag- pravating tone: “<* Aw—thank you. I will—aw— consider your propositions.’ “Well, there wasn’t anything for us to do then but to get out, and we did so with something of the feeling, and a good deal of the appearance, I am afraid, of the dog that met the tomcat in Jerome K. Jerome’s story. I rather think that ‘ His Lordship ’ had the best of us there. ‘Our report was received by the boys with little enthusiasm. Recount the story as we might, we could not completely hide the fact that ‘ His Lordship ’ had fairly routed us. “The next time Chumley appeared with his usual outfit, however, a fellow by the name of Gregson met him—a hard case Gregson was—and he stopped and coolly took a shot at the hat, sending it into the dust with a big hole through it. But uncle bounced him for that, and that rather deterred any of the rest of us from following his example. “T understand that Chumley had to send ’way to England for another hat hike that. “Well, a cowboy’s life isn’t all fun and horse play,” continued the colonel, changing his position slightly and puff- ing away steadily at his cigar. “ Some THE ARGOSY. weeks after this affair, Just before the ‘annual drive,’ Terry, Bill McGreggor, and I were out on the range alone with a big herd of cattle. I shan’t forget the occasion, for it came pretty near being the last time I ever herded cattle. “ The beeves were quite wild, and it took mighty little to scare them. About the middle of the forenoon something startled ’em, and they started off on the prettiest kind of a stampede. I was some distance beyond them, and the only card I had to play was to run my pony right down their front and try to head them off. “As I put spurs to my horse I saw that there were two other horsemen in their track—-Chumley, dressed as usual, and with the great white silk umbrella raised to defend his head fromthe rays of the sun, which was shining directly down upon the plain, and his satellite, the red coated groom. “The latter, seeing the stampede, had whipped up his horse and got out of the way in short order. “ At that instant my pony played me a trick which he had never done before. He stumbled and threw me directly in the path of the charging animals. “T sprang up to escape, but found that one ankle had received such a strain that to run was impossible. I dropped back to the earth, shut my eyes, and listened to that terrible thun- der of approaching hoofs. “Then I opened my eyes and found Chumley beside me. He had seen my danger-and ridden his horse directly toward the charging herd. But the animal was not a cattle horse, and acted abominally, rearing up and bucking fearfully as he faced the stampede. * Before I could shout out my direc- tions to the Englishman he had slipped from his horse’s back, and the animal immediately broke away and ran like the wind. “* Run, you fool!’ I yelled, forget- ting my own danger, as I saw him stand there looking after his mount. ‘ Run, or you'll be trampled to death!’ COMIEOOKS.COmMm