Eatin Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte | Page 3

I just couldn't.
Every one there was against me."
"I guess you oughter hev stayed.... Besides, if you had wiped up the
floor with that Irishman the boys would hev let up on you."
"P'r'aps so," Charley resumed, "but I was sick of the whole crowd. I
sold off, and lit out. When I got on the new stage-coach, fifty miles
from Laramie, and didn't know the driver or any one, I made up my
mind to start fresh. Then and there I resolved that I had eaten all the
crow I was going to eat; the others should eat crow now, and if there
was any jumpin' to be done, I'd do it, whatever it cost. And so I went

for Bent right off. I didn't want to wait. 'Here's more crow,' I thought,
'but I won't eat it; he shall, if I die for it,' and I just threw him out
quick."
"I see," said Crocker, with a certain sympathy in his voice, "but you
oughter hev waited. You oughter make up to wait from this on, Charley.
'Tain't hard. You don't need to take anythin' and set under it. I'm not
advisin' that, but it's stronger to wait before you go fer any one. The
boys," he added significantly, "don't like a man to bounce, and what
they don't like is pretty hard to do."
"Damn the boys," exclaimed Charley vehemently, "they're all alike out
here. I can't act different. If I waited, I might wait too long--too long,
d'you sabe? I just can't trust myself," he added in a subdued tone.
"No," replied Crocker meditatively. "No, p'r'aps not. But see here,
Charley, I kinder like you, and so I tell you, no one can bounce the
crowd here in Garotte. They're the worst crowd you ever struck in your
life. Garotte's known for hard cases. Why," he went on earnestly, as if
he had suddenly become conscious of the fact, "the other night Reggitt
and a lot came mighty near goin' fer you--and Harrison, Harrison took
up what you said. You didn't notice, I guess; and p'r'aps 'twas well you
didn't; but you hadn't much to spare. You won by the odd card.
"No one can bounce this camp. They've come from everywhere, and
can only jes' get a livin' here--no more. And when luck's bad
they're"--and he paused as if no adjective were strong enough. "If a
man was steel, and the best and quickest on the draw ever seen, I guess
they'd bury him if he played your way."
"Then they may bury me," retorted Charley bitterly, "but I've eaten my
share of crow. I ain't goin' to eat any more. Can't go East now with the
taste of it in my mouth. I'd rather they buried me."
And they did bury him--about a fortnight after. July, 1892.

THE BEST MAN IN GAROTTE.

Lawyer Rablay had come from nobody knew where. He was a small
man, almost as round as a billiard ball. His body was round, his head
was round; his blue eyes and even his mouth and chin were round; his
nose was a perky snub; he was florid and prematurely bald--a picture of
good-humour. And yet he was a power in Garotte. When he came to the
camp, a row was the only form of recreation known to the miners. A
"fuss" took men out of themselves, and was accordingly hailed as an
amusement; besides, it afforded a subject of conversation. But after
Lawyer Rablay's arrival fights became comparatively infrequent.
Would-be students of human nature declared at first that his flow of
spirits was merely animal, and that his wit was thin; but even these
envious ones had to admit later that his wit told, and that his
good-humour was catching.
Crocker and Harrison had nearly got to loggerheads one night for no
reason apparently, save that each had a high reputation for courage, and
neither could find a worthier antagonist. In the nick of time Rablay
appeared; he seemed to understand the situation at a glance, and broke
in:
"See here, boys. I'll settle this. They're disputin'--I know they are. Want
to decide with bullets whether 'Frisco or Denver's the finest city.
'Frisco's bigger and older, says Crocker; Harrison maintains Denver's
better laid out. Crocker replies in his quiet way that 'Frisco ain't dead
yet" Good temper being now re-established, Rablay went on: "I'll
decide this matter right off. Crocker and Harrison shall set up drinks for
the crowd till we're all laid out. And I'll tell a story," and he began a
tale which cannot be retold here, but which delighted the boys as much
by its salaciousness as by its vivacity.
Lawyer Rablay was to Garotte what novels, theatres, churches, concerts
are to more favoured cities; in fact, for