En Passant





It was intentionally late in the day when we reached Dodge. My horse,

which I was leading, gave considerable trouble while returning,

compelling us to drive slow. The buyers repeatedly complained that

dinner would be over at their hotel, but the detective knew of a good

restaurant and promised all of us a feast. On reaching town, we drove to

the stable where the rig belonged, and once free of the horses, Siringo

led the way to a well-known night-and-day eating-house on a back street.

No sooner had we entered the place than I remembered having my wagon

in town, and the necessity of its reaching camp before darkness made my

excuse imperative. I hurried around to the outfitting house and found

the order filled and all ready to load into the wagon. But Parent was

missing, and in skirmishing about to locate him, I met my brother Bob.

Tolleston had arrived, but his presence had not been discovered until

after Seay reached town. Archie was fairly well "organized" and had

visited the hotel where the buyers were stopping, leaving word for them

of his arrival. My brother and Seay had told him that they had met,

down the trail that morning, two cattle buyers by the name of Field and

Radcliff; that they were inquiring for a herd belonging to Tom Coleman,

which was believed to be somewhere between Dodge and the Cimarron River.

The two had assured Tolleston that the buyers might not be back for a

week, and suggested a few drinks in memory of old times. As Archie

was then three sheets in the wind, his effacement, in the hands of two

rounders like Dorg Seay and Bob Quirk, was an easy matter.



Once the wagon was loaded and started for camp, I returned to the

restaurant. The dinner was in progress, and taking the vacant seat, I

lifted my glass with great regularity as toast after toast was drunk.

Cigars were ordered, and with our feet on the table, the fiscal agent

said: "Gentlemen, this is a mere luncheon and don't count. But if I'm

able to sell you my other two beef herds, why, I'll give you a

blow-out right. We'll make it six-handed--the three trail foremen

and ourselves--and damn the expense so long as the cattle are sold.

Champagne will flow like water, and when our teeth float, we'll wash our

feet in what's left."



At a late hour the dinner ended. We were all rather unsteady on our

feet, but the pock-marked detective and myself formed a guard of

honor in escorting the buyers to their hotel, when an officious clerk

attempted to deliver Tolleston's message. But anticipating it, I

interrupted his highness and informed him that we had met the party; I

was a thousand times obliged to him for his kindness, and forced on him

a fine cigar, which had been given me by Bob Wright of the outfitting

store. While Siringo and the buyers passed upstairs, I entertained the

office force below with an account of the sale of my herd, constantly

referring to my new employers. The fiscal agent returned shortly, bought

some cigars at the counter, asked if he could get a room for the night,

in case he was detained in town, and then we passed out of the hotel.

This afforded me the first opportunity to notify Siringo of the presence

of Tolleston, and I withheld nothing which was to his interest to know.

But he was impatient to learn if the draft had been accepted, and asking

me to bring my brother to his room within half an hour, he left me.



It was growing late in the day. The sun had already set when I found

my brother, who was anxious to return to his camp for the night. But I

urged his seeing Siringo first, and after waiting in the latter's room

some time, he burst in upon us with a merry chuckle. "Well, the draft

was paid all right," said he; "and this is Bob Quirk. Boys, things are

coming nicely. This fellow Tolleston is the only cloud in the sky. If we

can keep him down for a week, and the other herds come in shortly, I see

nothing to thwart our plans. Where have you picketed Tolleston?" "Around

in Dutch Jake's crib," replied Bob.



"That's good," continued the fiscal agent, "and I'll just drop in

to-night and see the madam. A little money will go a long way with her,

and in a case like this, the devil himself would be a welcome ally. You

boys stay in town as much as you can and keep Tolleston snowed deep, and

I'll take the buyers down the trail in the morning and meet the herds

coming up."



My brother returned to his camp, and Siringo and I separated for the

time being. In '84 Dodge, the Port Said of the plains, was in the full

flower of her wickedness. Literally speaking, night was turned into day

in the old trail town, for with the falling of darkness, the streets

filled with people. Restaurants were crowded with women of the

half-world, bar-rooms thronged with the wayfaring man, while in gambling

and dance halls the range men congregated as if on special invitation.

The familiar bark of the six-shooter was a matter of almost nightly

occurrence; a dispute at the gaming table, a discourteous word spoken,

or the rivalry for the smile of a wanton was provocation for the

sacrifice of human life. Here the man of the plains reverted to and gave

utterance to the savagery of his nature, or, on the other hand, was as

chivalrous as in the days of heraldry.



I knew the town well, this being my third trip over the trail, and

mingled with the gathering throng. Near midnight, and when in the Lady

Gay dance-hall, I was accosted by Dorg Seay and the detective. They had

just left Dutch Jake's, and reported all quiet on the Potomac. Seay had

not only proved himself artful, but a good fellow, and had unearthed the

fact that Tolleston had been in the employ of Field and Radcliff for the

past three months. "You see," said Dorg, "Archie never knew me except

the few days that I was about headquarters in Medina before we started.

He fully believes that I've been discharged--and with three months' pay

in my hip-pocket. The play now is that he's to first help me spend my

wages, and then I'm to have a job under him with beeves which he expects

to drive to the Yellowstone. He has intimated that he might be able to

give me a herd. So, Tom, if I come out there and take possession of your

cattle, don't be surprised. There's only one thing to beat our game--I

can't get him so full but what he's over-anxious to see his employers.

But if you fellows furnish the money, I'll try and pickle him until he

forgets them."



The next morning Siringo and the buyers started south on the trail, and

I rode for my camp on the Saw Log. Before riding many miles I sighted my

outfit coming in a long lope for town. They reported everything serene

at camp, and as many of the boys were moneyless, I turned back with

them. An enjoyable day was before us; some drank to their hearts'

content, while all gambled with more or less success. I was anxious that

the outfit should have a good carouse, and showed the lights and shadows

of the town with a pride worthy of one of its founders. Acting the host,

I paid for our dinners; and as we sauntered into the street, puffing

vile cigars, we nearly ran amuck of Dorg Seay and Archie Tolleston,

trundling a child's wagon between them up the street. We watched them,

keeping a judicious distance, as they visited saloon after saloon, the

toy wagon always in possession of one or the other.



While we were amusing ourselves at the antics of these two, my attention

was attracted by a four-mule wagon pulling across the bridge from the

south. On reaching the railroad tracks, I recognized the team, and

also the driver, as Quince Forrest's. Here was news, and accordingly I

accosted him. Fortunately he was looking for me or my brother, as his

foreman could not come in with the wagon, and some one was wanted to

vouch for him in getting the needed supplies. They had reached the

Mulberry the evening before, but several herds had mixed in a run during

the night, though their cattle had escaped. Forrest was determined not

to risk a second night on that stream, and had started his herd with the

dawn, expecting to camp with his cattle that night west on Duck Creek.

The herd was then somewhere between the latter and the main Arkansaw,

and the cook was anxious to secure the supplies and reach the outfit

before darkness overtook him. Sponsilier was reported as two days behind

Forrest when the latter crossed the Cimarron, since when there had been

no word from his cattle. They had met the buyers near the middle of the

forenoon, and when Forrest admitted having the widow Timberlake's beef

herd, they turned back and were spending the day with the cattle.



The situation demanded instant action. Taking Forrest's cook around to

our outfitting store, I introduced and vouched for him. Hurrying back, I

sent Wayne Outcault, as he was a stranger to Tolleston, to mix with the

two rascals and send Seay to me at once. Some little time was consumed

in engaging Archie in a game of pool, but when Dorg presented himself

I lost no time in explaining the situation. He declared that it was no

longer possible to interest Tolleston at Dutch Jake's crib during the

day, and that other means of amusement must be resorted to, as Archie

was getting clamorous to find his employers. To my suggestion to get

a livery rig and take him for a ride, Dorg agreed. "Take him down the

river to Spearville," I urged, "and try and break into the calaboose if

you can. Paint the town red while you're about it, and if you both land

in the lock-up, all the better. If the rascal insists on coming back to

Dodge, start after night, get lost, and land somewhere farther down the

river. Keep him away from this town for a week, and I'll gamble that you

boss a herd for old man Don next year."



The afternoon was waning. The buyers might return at any moment, as

Forrest's herd had no doubt crossed the river but a few miles above

town.



I was impatiently watching the boys, as Dorg and Wayne cautiously herded

Tolleston around to a livery stable, when my brother Bob rode up. He

informed me that he had moved his camp that day across to the Saw Log;

that he had done so to accommodate Jim Flood and The Rebel with a camp;

their herds were due on the Mulberry that evening. The former had stayed

all night at Bob's wagon, and reported his cattle, considering the dry

season, in good condition. As my brother expected to remain in town

overnight, I proposed starting for my camp as soon as Seay and his

ward drove out of sight. They parleyed enough before going to unnerve

a saint, but finally, with the little toy wagon on Tolleston's knee and

the other driving, they started. Hurrahing my lads to saddle up, we rode

past the stable where Seay had secured the conveyance; and while I was

posting the stable-keeper not to be uneasy if the rig was gone a week,

Siringo and the buyers drove past the barn with a flourish. Taking a

back street, we avoided meeting them, and just as darkness was falling,

rode into our camp some twelve miles distant.



My brother Bob's camp was just above us on the creek, and a few miles

nearer town. As his wagon expected to go in after supplies the next

morning, a cavalcade of fifteen men from the two outfits preceded it.

My horse-wrangler had made arrangements with the cook to look after

his charges, and in anticipation of the day before him, had our mounts

corralled before sun-up. Bob's wrangler was also with us, and he and

Levering quarreled all the way in about the respective merits of each

one's remuda. A match was arranged between the two horses which they

were riding, and on reaching a straight piece of road, my man won it

and also considerable money. But no matter how much we differed among

ourselves, when the interests of our employer were at stake, we were a

unit. On reaching town, our numbers were augmented by fully twenty

more from the other Lovell outfits, including the three foremen. My old

bunkie, The Rebel, nearly dragged me from my horse, while Forrest and I

forgot past differences over a social glass. And then there was Flood,

my first foreman, under whom I served my apprenticeship on the trail,

the same quiet, languid old Jim. The various foremen and their outfits

were aware of the impending trouble over the Buford delivery, and

quietly expressed their contempt for such underhand dealings. Quince

Forrest had spent the evening before in town, and about midnight his

herd of "Drooping T's" were sold at about the same figures as mine,

except five thousand more earnest-money, and the privilege of the buyers

placing their own foreman in charge thereafter. Forrest further reported

that the fiscal agent and the strangers had started to meet Sponsilier

early that morning, and that the probability of all the herds moving out

in a few days was good.



Seay and his charge were still absent, and the programme, as outlined,

was working out nicely. With the exception of Forrest and myself, the

other foremen were busy looking after their outfits, while Bob Quirk had

his wagon to load and start on its return. Quince confided to me that

though he had stayed on Duck Creek the night before, his herd would noon

that day on Saw Log, and camp that evening on the next creek north. When

pressed for his reasons, he shrugged his shoulders, and with a quiet

wink, said: "If this new outfit put a man over me, just the minute we

get out of the jurisdiction of this county, off his horse he goes and

walks back. If it's Tolleston, the moment he sees me and recognizes my

outfit as belonging to Lovell, he'll raise the long yell and let the cat

out. When that happens, I want to be in an unorganized country where a

six-shooter is the highest authority." The idea was a new one to me,

and I saw the advantage of it, but could not move without Siringo's

permission, which Forrest had. Accordingly about noon, Quince summoned

his men together, and they rode out of town. Looking up a map of Ford

County, I was delighted to find that my camp on Saw Log was but a few

miles below the north line.



Among the boys the day passed in riotousness. The carousing was a

necessary stimulant after the long, monotonous drive and exposure to the

elements. Near the middle of the forenoon, Flood and The Rebel rounded

up their outfits and started south for the Mulberry, while Bob Quirk

gathered his own and my lads preparatory to leaving for the Saw Log. I

had agreed to remain on guard for that night, for with the erratic turn

on Tolleston's part, we were doubly cautious. But when my outfit was

ready to start, Runt Pickett, the feisty little rascal, had about twenty

dollars in his possession which he insisted on gambling away before

leaving town. Runt was comfortably drunk, and as Bob urged humoring him,

I gave my consent, provided he would place it all at one bet, to which

Pickett agreed. Leaving the greater part of the boys holding the horses,

some half-dozen of us entered the nearest gambling-house, and Runt bet

nineteen dollars "Alce" on the first card which fell in a monte lay-out.

To my chagrin, he won. My brother was delighted over the little rascal's

luck, and urged him to double his bet, but Pickett refused and invited

us all to have a drink. Leaving this place, we entered the next

gaming-hall, when our man again bet nineteen dollars alce on the first

card. Again he won, and we went the length of the street, Runt wagering

nineteen dollars alce on the first card for ten consecutive times

without losing a bet. In his groggy condition, the prospect of losing

Pickett's money was hopeless, and my brother and I promised him that he

might come back the next morning and try to get rid of his winnings.



Two whole days passed with no report from either Seay or the buyers.

Meanwhile Flood and The Rebel threaded their way through the other

herds, crossing the Arkansaw above town, their wagons touching at Dodge

for new supplies, never halting except temporarily until they reached

the creek on which Forrest was encamped. The absence of Siringo and the

buyers, to my thinking, was favorable, for no doubt when they came in,

a deal would have been effected on the last of the Buford herds. They

returned some time during the night of the third day out, and I failed

to see the detective before sunrise the next morning. When I did meet

him, everything seemed so serene that I felt jubilant over the outlook.

Sponsilier's beeves had firmly caught the fancy of the buyers, and the

delay in closing the trade was only temporary. "I can close the deal

any minute I want to," said Siringo to me, "but we mustn't appear

too anxious. Old man Don's idea was to get about one hundred thousand

dollars earnest-money in hand, but if I can get five or ten more, it

might help tide us all over a hard winter. My last proposition to the

buyers was that if they would advance forty-five thousand dollars on the

'Apple' beeves--Sponsilier's cattle--they might appoint, at the seller's

expense, their own foreman from Dodge to the point of delivery. They

have agreed to give me an answer this morning, and after sleeping over

it, I look for no trouble in closing the trade."



The buyers were also astir early. I met Mr. Field in the post-office,

where he was waiting for it to open. To his general inquiries I reported

everything quiet, but suggested we move camp soon or the cattle would

become restless. He listened very attentively, and promised that

within a few days permission would be given to move out for our final

destination. The morning were the quiet hours of the town, and when the

buyers had received and gone over their large and accumulated mail, the

partners came over to the Dodge House, looking for the fiscal agent, as

I supposed, to close the trade on Sponsilier's cattle. Siringo was the

acme of indifference, but listened to a different tale. A trusted

man, in whom they had placed a great deal of confidence, had failed to

materialize. He was then overdue some four or five days, and foul play

was suspected. The wily detective poured oil on the troubled waters,

assuring them if their man failed to appear within a day or two, he

would gladly render every assistance in looking him up. Another matter

of considerable moment would be the arrival that morning of a silent

partner, the financial man of the firm from Washington, D.C. He was due

to arrive on the "Cannon Ball" at eight o'clock, and we all sauntered

down to meet the train from the East. On its arrival, Siringo and I

stood back among the crowd, but the buyers pushed forward, looking for

their friend. The first man to alight from the day coach, coatless and

with both eyes blackened, was Archie Tolleston; he almost fell into the

arms of our cattle buyers. I recognized Archie at a glance, and dragging

the detective inside the waiting-room, posted him as to the arrival with

the wild look and blood-shot optics. Siringo cautioned me to go to his

room and stay there, promising to report as the day advanced.



Sponsilier had camped the night before on the main river, and as I

crossed to the hotel, his commissary pulled up in front of Wright,

Beverly & Co.'s outfitting store. Taking the chances of being seen, I

interviewed Dave's cook, and learned that his foreman had given him

an order for the supplies, and that Sponsilier would not come in until

after the herd had passed the Saw Log. As I turned away, my attention

was attracted by the deference being shown the financial man of the

cattle firm, as the party wended their way around to the Wright House.

The silent member of the firm was a portly fellow, and there was no

one in the group but did him honor, even the detective carrying a light

grip, while Tolleston lumbered along with a heavy one.



My effacement was only temporary, as Siringo appeared at his room

shortly afterward. "Well, Quirk," said he, with a smile, "I reckon my

work is all done. Field and Radcliff didn't feel like talking business

this morning, at least until they had shown the financial member their

purchases, both real and prospective. Yes, they took the fat Colonel

and Tolleston with them and started for your camp with a two-seated

rig. From yours they expect to drive to Forrest's camp, and then meet

Sponsilier on the way coming back. No; I declined a very pressing

invitation to go along--you see my mixed herds might come in any minute.

And say, that man Tolleston was there in a hundred places with the big

conversation; he claims to have been kidnapped, and was locked up for

the last four days. He says he whipped your man Seay, but couldn't

convince the authorities of his innocence until last night, when they

set him free. According to his report, Seay's in jail yet at a little

town down the road called Kinsley. Now, I'm going to take a conveyance

to Spearville, and catch the first train out of there East. Settle my

bill with this hotel, and say that I may be out of town for a few days,

meeting a herd which I'm expecting. When Tolleston recognizes all three

of those outfits as belonging to Don Lovell--well, won't there be hell

to pay? Yes, my work is all done."



I fully agreed with the detective that Archie would recognize

the remudas and outfits as Lovell's, even though the cattle were

road-branded out of the usual "Circle Dot." Siringo further informed

me that north of Ford County was all an unorganized country until the

Platte River was reached at Ogalalla, and advised me to ignore any legal

process served outside those bounds. He was impatient to get away, and

when he had put me in possession of everything to our advantage, we

wrung each other's hands in farewell. As the drive outlined by the

cattle buyers would absorb the day, I felt no necessity of being in a

hurry. The absence of Dorg Seay was annoying, and the fellow had done

us such valiant service, I felt in honor bound to secure his release.

Accordingly I wired the city marshal at Kinsley, and received a reply

that Seay had been released early that morning, and had started overland

for Dodge. This was fortunate, and after settling all bills, I offered

to pay the liveryman in advance for the rig in Seay's possession,

assuring him by the telegram that it would return that evening. He

refused to make any settlement until the condition of both the animal

and the conveyance had been passed upon, and fearful lest Dorg should

come back moneyless, I had nothing to do but await his return. I was

growing impatient to reach camp, there being no opportunity to send

word to my outfit, and the passing hours seemed days, when late in the

afternoon Dorg Seay drove down the main street of Dodge as big as

a government beef buyer. The liveryman was pleased and accepted the

regular rate, and Dorg and I were soon galloping out of town. As we

neared the first divide, we dropped our horses into a walk to afford

them a breathing spell, and in reply to my fund of information, Seay

said:



"So Tolleston's telling that he licked me. Well, that's a good one on

this one of old man Seay's boys. Archie must have been crazy with the

heat. The fact is that he had been trying to quit me for several days.

We had exhausted every line of dissipation, and when I decided that it

was no longer possible to hold him, I insulted and provoked him into a

quarrel, and we were both arrested. Licked me, did he? He couldn't lick

his upper lip."





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