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+Project Gutenberg's Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte, by Frank Harris
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte
+
+Author: Frank Harris
+
+Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23011]
+Last Updated: March 8, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EATIN' CROW ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+EATIN' CROW, AND THE BEST MAN IN GAROTTE.
+
+By Frank Harris
+
+
+
+
+EATIN' CROW.
+
+The evening on which Charley Muirhead made his first appearance at
+Doolan's was a memorable one; the camp was in wonderful spirits. Whitman
+was said to have struck it rich. Garotte, therefore, might yet become
+popular in the larger world, and its evil reputation be removed.
+Besides, what Whitman had done any one might do, for by common consent
+he was a “derned fool.” Good-humour accordingly reigned at Doolan's,
+and the saloon was filled with an excited, hopeful crowd. Bill Bent,
+however, was anything but pleased; he generally was in a bad temper, and
+this evening, as Crocker remarked carelessly, he was “more ornery than
+ever.” The rest seemed to pay no attention to the lanky, dark man with
+the narrow head, round, black eyes, and rasping voice. But Bent would
+croak: “Whitman's struck nothin'; thar ain't no gold in Garotte; it's
+all work and no dust.” In this strain he went on, offending local
+sentiment and making every one uncomfortable.
+
+Muirhead's first appearance created a certain sensation. He was a fine
+upstanding fellow of six feet or over, well made, and good-looking.
+But Garotte had too much experience of life to be won by a stranger's
+handsome looks. Muirhead's fair moustache and large blue eyes counted
+for little there. Crocker and others, masters in the art of judging
+men, noticed that his eyes were unsteady, and his manner, though genial,
+seemed hasty. Reggitt summed up their opinion in the phrase, “looks as
+if he'd bite off more'n he could chaw.” Unconscious of the criticism,
+Muirhead talked, offered drinks, and made himself agreeable.
+
+At length in answer to Bent's continued grumbling, Muirhead said
+pleasantly: “'Tain't so bad as that in Garotte, is it? This bar don't
+look like poverty, and if I set up drinks for the crowd, it's because
+I'm glad to be in this camp.”
+
+“P'r'aps you found the last place you was in jes' a leetle too warm,
+eh?” was Bent's retort.
+
+Muirhead's face flushed, and for a second he stood as if he had been
+struck. Then, while the crowd moved aside, he sprang towards Bent,
+exclaiming, “Take that back--right off! Take it back!”
+
+“What?” asked Bent coolly, as if surprised; at the same time, however,
+retreating a pace or two, he slipped his right hand behind him.
+
+Instantly Muirhead threw himself upon him, rushed him with what seemed
+demoniac strength to the open door and flung him away out on his back
+into the muddy ditch that served as a street. For a moment there was a
+hush of expectation, then Bent was seen to gather himself up painfully
+and move out of the square of light into the darkness. But Muirhead did
+not wait for this; hastily, with hot face and hands still working with
+excitement, he returned to the bar with:
+
+“That's how I act. No one can jump me. No one, by God!” and he glared
+round the room defiantly. Reggitt, Harrison, and some of the others
+looked at him as if on the point of retorting, but the cheerfulness
+was general, and Bent's grumbling before a stranger had irritated them
+almost as much as his unexpected cowardice. Muirhead's challenge was not
+taken up, therefore, though Harrison did remark, half sarcastically:
+
+“That may be so. You jump them, I guess.”
+
+“Well, boys, let's have the drink,” Charley Muirhead went on, his manner
+suddenly changing to that of friendly greeting, just as if he had not
+heard Harrison's words.
+
+The men moved up to the bar and drank, and before the liquor was
+consumed, Charley's geniality, acting on the universal good-humour,
+seemed to have done away with the discontent which his violence and
+Bent's cowardice had created. This was the greater tribute to his
+personal charm, as the refugees of Garotte usually hung together, and
+were inclined to resent promptly any insult offered to one of their
+number by a stranger. But in the present case harmony seemed to be
+completely reestablished, and it would have taken a keener observer than
+Muirhead to have understood his own position and the general opinion.
+It was felt that the stranger had bluffed for all he was worth, and that
+Garotte had come out “at the little end of the horn.”
+
+A day or two later Charley Muirhead, walking about the camp, came
+upon Dave Crocker's claim, and offered to buy half of it and work as a
+partner, but the other would not sell; “the claim was worth nothin'; not
+good enough for two, anyhow;” and there the matter would have ended, had
+not the young man proposed to work for a spell just to keep his hand
+in. By noon Crocker was won; nobody could resist Charley's hard work
+and laughing high spirits. Shortly afterwards the older man proposed
+to knock off; a day's work, he reckoned, had been done, and evidently
+considering it impossible to accept a stranger's labour without
+acknowledgment, he pressed Charley to come up to his shanty and eat
+The simple meal was soon despatched, and Crocker, feeling the obvious
+deficiencies of his larder, produced a bottle of Bourbon, and the two
+began to drink. Glass succeeded glass, and at length Crocker's reserve
+seemed to thaw; his manner became almost easy, and he spoke half
+frankly.
+
+“I guess you're strong,” he remarked. “You threw Bent out of the saloon
+the other night like as if he was nothin'; strength's good, but 'tain't
+everythin'. I mean,” he added, in answer to the other's questioning
+look, “Samson wouldn't have a show with a man quick on the draw who
+meant bizness. Bent didn't pan out worth a cent, and the boys didn't
+like him, but--them things don't happen often.” So in his own way he
+tried to warn the man to whom he had taken a liking.
+
+Charley felt that a warning was intended, for he replied decisively: “It
+don't matter. I guess he wanted to jump me, and I won't be jumped, not
+if Samson wanted to, and all the revolvers in Garotte were on me.”
+
+“Wall,” Crocker went on quietly, but with a certain curiosity in his
+eyes, “that's all right, but I reckon you were mistaken. Bent didn't
+want to rush ye; 'twas only his cussed way, and he'd had mighty bad
+luck. You might hev waited to see if he meant anythin', mightn't ye?”
+ And he looked his listener in the face as he spoke.
+
+“That's it,” Charley replied, after a long pause, “that's just it. I
+couldn't wait, d'ye see!” and then continued hurriedly, as if driven
+to relieve himself by a full confession: “Maybe you don't _sabe_. It's
+plain enough, though I'd have to begin far back to make you understand.
+But I don't mind if you want to hear. I was raised in the East, in Rhode
+Island, and I guess I was liked by everybody. I never had trouble with
+any one, and I was a sort of favourite.... I fell in love with a girl,
+and as I hadn't much money, I came West to make some, as quick as I knew
+how. The first place I struck was Laramie--you don't know it? 'Twas a
+hard place; cowboys, liquor saloons, cursin' and swearin', poker and
+shootin' nearly every night At the beginning I seemed to get along all
+right, and I liked the boys, and thought they liked me. One night a
+little Irishman was rough on me; first of all I didn't notice, thought
+he meant nothin', and then, all at once, I saw he meant it--and more.
+
+“Well, I got a kind of scare--I don't know why--and I took what he said
+and did nothin'. Next day the boys sort of held off from me, didn't
+talk; thought me no account, I guess, and that little Irishman just rode
+me round the place with spurs on. I never kicked once. I thought I'd get
+the money--I had done well with the stock I had bought--and go back
+East and marry, and no one would be any the wiser. But the Irishman kept
+right on, and first one and then another of the boys went for me, and
+I took it all. I just,” and here his voice rose, and his manner became
+feverishly excited, “I just ate crow right along for months--and tried
+to look as if 'twas quail.
+
+“One day I got a letter from home. She wanted me to hurry up and come
+back. She thought a lot of me, I could see; more than ever, because I
+had got along--I had written and told her my best news. And then, what
+had been hard grew impossible right off. I made up my mind to sell the
+stock and strike for new diggings. I couldn't stand it any longer--not
+after her letter. I sold out and cleared.... I ought to hev stayed in
+Laramie, p'r'aps, and gone for the Irishman, but 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 some six months, he and
+his stories constituted the chief humanizing influence in the camp.
+Deputations were often despatched from Doolan's to bring Rablay to the
+bar. The miners got up “cases” in order to give him work. More than once
+both parties in a dispute, real or imaginary, engaged him, despite his
+protestations, as attorney, and afterwards the boys insisted that,
+being advocate for both sides, he was well fitted to decide the issue
+as judge. He had not been a month in Garotte before he was christened
+Judge, and every question, whether of claim-boundaries, the suitability
+of a nickname, or the value of “dust,” was submitted for his decision.
+It cannot be asserted that his enviable position was due either to
+perfect impartiality or to infallible wisdom. But every one knew that
+his judgments would be informed by shrewd sense and good-humour,
+and would be followed by a story, and woe betide the disputant
+whose perversity deferred that pleasure. So Garotte became a sort of
+theocracy, with Judge Rablay as ruler. And yet he was, perhaps, the
+only man in the community whose courage had never been tested or even
+considered.
+
+One afternoon a man came to Garotte, who had a widespread reputation.
+His name was Bill Hitchcock. A marvellous shot, a first-rate
+poker-player, a good rider--these virtues were outweighed by his
+desperate temper. Though not more than five-and-twenty years of age
+his courage and ferocity had made him a marked man. He was said to have
+killed half-a-dozen men; and it was known that he had generally provoked
+his victims. No one could imagine why he had come to Garotte, but he
+had not been half an hour in the place before he was recognized. It was
+difficult to forget him, once seen. He was tall and broad-shouldered;
+his face long, with well-cut features; a brown moustache drooped
+negligently over his mouth; his heavy eyelids were usually half-closed,
+but when in moments of excitement they were suddenly updrawn, one was
+startled by a naked hardness of grey-green eyes.
+
+Hitchcock spent the whole afternoon in Doolan's, scarcely speaking a
+word. As night drew down, the throng of miners increased. Luck had been
+bad for weeks; the camp was in a state of savage ill-humour. Not a
+few came to the saloon that night intending to show, if an opportunity
+offered, that neither Hitchcock nor any one else on earth could scare
+them. As minute after minute passed the tension increased. Yet Hitchcock
+stood in the midst of them, drinking and smoking in silence, seemingly
+unconcerned.
+
+Presently the Judge came in with a smile on his round face and shot off
+a merry remark. But the quip didn't take as it should have done. He
+was received with quiet nods and not with smiles and loud greetings as
+usual. Nothing daunted, he made his way to the bar, and, standing next
+to Hitchcock, called for a drink.
+
+“Come, Doolan, a Bourbon; our only monarch!”
+
+Beyond a smile from Doolan the remark elicited no applause. Astonished,
+the Judge looked about him; never in his experience had the camp been
+in that temper. But still he had conquered too often to doubt his powers
+now. Again and again he tried to break the spell--in vain. As a last
+resort he resolved to use his infallible receipt against ill-temper.
+
+“Boys! I've just come in to tell you one little story; then I'll have to
+go.”
+
+From force of habit the crowd drew towards him, and faces relaxed.
+Cheered by this he picked up his glass from the bar and turned towards
+his audience. Unluckily, as he moved, his right arm brushed against
+Hitchcock, who was looking at him with half-opened eyes. The next moment
+Hitchcock had picked up his glass and dashed it in the Judge's face.
+Startled, confounded by the unexpected suddenness of the attack, Rablay
+backed two or three paces, and, blinded by the rush of blood from his
+forehead, drew out his handkerchief. No one stirred. It was part of the
+unwritten law in Garotte to let every man in such circumstances play his
+game as he pleased. For a moment or two the Judge mopped his face, and
+then he started towards his assailant with his round face puckered up
+and out-thrust hands. He had scarcely moved, however, when Hitchcock
+levelled a long Navy Colt against his breast:
+
+“Git back, you -------- ------”
+
+The Judge stopped. He was unarmed but not cowed. All of a sudden those
+wary, long eyes of Hitchcock took in the fact that a score of revolvers
+covered him.
+
+With lazy deliberation Dave Crocker moved out of the throng towards the
+combatants, and standing between them, with his revolver pointing to the
+ground, said sympathetically:
+
+“Jedge, we're sorry you've been jumped, here in Garotte. Now, what would
+you like?”
+
+“A fair fight,” replied Rablay, beginning again to use his handkerchief.
+
+“Wall,” Crocker went on, after a pause for thought. “A square fight's
+good but hard to get. This man,” and his head made a motion towards
+Hitchcock as he spoke, “is one of the best shots there is, and I reckon
+you're not as good at shootin' as at--other things.” Again he paused
+to think, and then continued with the same deliberate air of careful
+reflection, “We all cotton to you, Jedge; you know that. Suppose you
+pick a man who kin shoot, and leave it to him. That'd be fair, an' you
+kin jes' choose any of us, or one after the other. We're all willin'.”
+
+“No,” replied the Judge, taking away the handkerchief, and showing a
+jagged, red line on his forehead. “No! he struck _me_. I don't want any
+one to help me, or take my place.”
+
+“That's right,” said Crocker, approvingly; “that's right, Jedge, we all
+like that, but 'tain't square, and this camp means to hev it square.
+You bet!” And, in the difficult circumstances, he looked round for the
+approval which was manifest on every one of the serious faces. Again he
+began: “I guess, Jedge, you'd better take my plan, 'twould be surer. No!
+Wall, suppose I take two six-shooters, one loaded, the other empty, and
+put them under a _capote_ on the table in the next room. You could both
+go in and draw for weapons; that'd be square, I reckon?” and he waited
+for the Judge's reply.
+
+“Yes,” replied Rablay, “that'd be fair. I agree to that.”
+
+“Hell!” exclaimed Hitchcock, “I don't. If he wants to fight, I'm here;
+but I ain't goin' to take a hand in no sich derned game--with the cards
+stocked agen me.”
+
+“Ain't you?” retorted Crocker, facing him, and beginning slowly. “I
+reckon _you'll_ play any game we say. _See!_ any damned game _we_ like.
+D'ye understand?”
+
+As no response was forthcoming to this defiance, he went into the other
+room to arrange the preliminaries of the duel. A few moments passed
+in silence, and then he came back through the lane of men to the two
+combatants.
+
+“Jedge,” he began, “the six-shooters are there, all ready. Would you
+like to hev first draw, or throw for it with him?” contemptuously
+indicating Hitchcock with a movement of his head as he concluded.
+
+“Let us throw,” replied Rablay, quietly.
+
+In silence the three dice and the box were placed by Doolan on the bar.
+In response to Crocker's gesture the Judge took up the box and rolled
+out two fives and a three--thirteen. Every one felt that he had lost the
+draw, but his face did not change any more than that of his adversary.
+In silence Hitchcock replaced the dice in the box and threw a three, a
+four, and a two--nine; he put down the box emphatically.
+
+“Wall,” Crocker decided impassively, “I guess that gives you the draw,
+Jedge; we throw fer high in Garotte--sometimes,” he went on, turning
+as if to explain to Hitchcock, but with insult in his voice, and then,
+“After you, Jedge!”
+
+Rablay passed through the crowd into the next room. There, on a table,
+was a small heap covered with a cloak. Silently the men pressed round,
+leaving Crocker between the two adversaries in the full light of the
+swinging lamp.
+
+“Now, Jedge,” said Crocker, with a motion towards the table.
+
+“No!” returned the Judge, with white, fixed face, “he won; let him draw
+first. I only want a square deal.”
+
+A low hum of surprise went round the room. Garotte was more than
+satisfied with its champion. Crocker looked at Hitchcock, and said:
+
+“It's your draw, then.” The words were careless, but the tone and face
+spoke clearly enough.
+
+A quick glance round the room and Hitchcock saw that he was trapped.
+These men would show him no mercy. At once the wild beast in him
+appeared. He stepped to the table, put his hand under the cloak, drew
+out a revolver, dropped it, pointing towards Rablay's face, and pulled
+the trigger. A sharp click. That revolver, at any rate, was unloaded.
+Quick as thought Crocker stepped between Hitchcock and the table. Then
+he said:
+
+“It's your turn now, Jedge!”
+
+As he spoke a sound, half of relief and half of content came from the
+throats of the onlookers. The Judge did not move. He had not quivered
+when the revolver was levelled within a foot of his head; he did not
+appear to have seen it. With set eyes and pale face, and the jagged
+wound on his forehead whence the blood still trickled, he had waited,
+and now he did not seem to hear. Again Crocker spoke:
+
+“Come, Jedge, it's your turn.”
+
+The sharp, loud words seemed to break the spell which had paralyzed the
+man. He moved to the table, and slowly drew the revolver from under the
+cloak. His hesitation was too much for the crowd.
+
+“Throw it through him, Jedge! Now's your chance. Wade in, Jedge!”
+
+The desperate ferocity of the curt phrases seemed to move him. He raised
+the revolver. Then came in tones of triumph:
+
+“I'll bet high on the Jedge!”
+
+He dropped the revolver on the floor, and fled from the room.
+
+The first feeling of the crowd of men was utter astonishment, but in
+a moment or two this gave place to half-contemptuous sympathy. What
+expression this sentiment would have found it is impossible to say, for
+just then Bill Hitchcock observed with a sneer:
+
+“As he's run, I may as well walk;” and he stepped towards the bar-room.
+
+Instantly Crocker threw himself in front of him with his face on fire.
+
+“Walk--will ye?” he burst out, the long-repressed rage flaming
+up--“walk! when you've jumped the best man in Garotte--walk! No, by God,
+you'll crawl, d'ye hear? crawl--right out of this camp, right now!” and
+he dropped his revolver on Hitchcock's breast.
+
+Then came a wild chorus of shouts.
+
+“That's right! That's the talk! Crawl, will ye! Down on yer hands and
+knees. Crawl, damn ye! Crawl!” and a score of revolvers covered the
+stranger.
+
+For a moment he stood defiant, looking his assailants in the eyes. His
+face seemed to have grown thinner, and his moustache twitched with the
+snarling movement of a brute at bay. Then he was tripped up and thrown
+forwards amid a storm of, “Crawl, damn ye--naw.” And so Hitchcock
+crawled, on hands and knees out of Doonan's.
+
+Lawyer Rabley, too, was never afterwards seen in Garrotte. Men said his
+nerves had “give out.”
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In
+Garotte, by Frank Harris
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EATIN' CROW ***
+
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+ PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+ "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+ <head>
+ <title>
+ Eatin' Crow, and the Best Man in Garotte, by Frank Harris
+ </title>
+ <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+ body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+ P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+ H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+ hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+ .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+ blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+ .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+ .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+ .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;}
+ div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+ div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+ .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+ .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+ .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+ margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+ text-align: right;}
+ pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+ </head>
+ <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+Project Gutenberg's Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte, by Frank Harris
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte
+
+Author: Frank Harris
+
+Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23011]
+Last Updated: March 8, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EATIN' CROW ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+ <div style="height: 8em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h1>
+ EATIN' CROW, <br /> AND THE BEST MAN IN GAROTTE.
+ </h1>
+ <h2>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </h2>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ Contents
+ </h2>
+ <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto">
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> EATIN' CROW. </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE BEST MAN IN GAROTTE. </a>
+ </p>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ </table>
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ EATIN' CROW.
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ The evening on which Charley Muirhead made his first appearance at
+ Doolan's was a memorable one; the camp was in wonderful spirits. Whitman
+ was said to have struck it rich. Garotte, therefore, might yet become
+ popular in the larger world, and its evil reputation be removed. Besides,
+ what Whitman had done any one might do, for by common consent he was a
+ &ldquo;derned fool.&rdquo; Good-humour accordingly reigned at Doolan's, and the saloon
+ was filled with an excited, hopeful crowd. Bill Bent, however, was
+ anything but pleased; he generally was in a bad temper, and this evening,
+ as Crocker remarked carelessly, he was &ldquo;more ornery than ever.&rdquo; The rest
+ seemed to pay no attention to the lanky, dark man with the narrow head,
+ round, black eyes, and rasping voice. But Bent would croak: &ldquo;Whitman's
+ struck nothin'; thar ain't no gold in Garotte; it's all work and no dust.&rdquo;
+ In this strain he went on, offending local sentiment and making every one
+ uncomfortable.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Muirhead's first appearance created a certain sensation. He was a fine
+ upstanding fellow of six feet or over, well made, and good-looking. But
+ Garotte had too much experience of life to be won by a stranger's handsome
+ looks. Muirhead's fair moustache and large blue eyes counted for little
+ there. Crocker and others, masters in the art of judging men, noticed that
+ his eyes were unsteady, and his manner, though genial, seemed hasty.
+ Reggitt summed up their opinion in the phrase, &ldquo;looks as if he'd bite off
+ more'n he could chaw.&rdquo; Unconscious of the criticism, Muirhead talked,
+ offered drinks, and made himself agreeable.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At length in answer to Bent's continued grumbling, Muirhead said
+ pleasantly: &ldquo;'Tain't so bad as that in Garotte, is it? This bar don't look
+ like poverty, and if I set up drinks for the crowd, it's because I'm glad
+ to be in this camp.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;P'r'aps you found the last place you was in jes' a leetle too warm, eh?&rdquo;
+ was Bent's retort.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Muirhead's face flushed, and for a second he stood as if he had been
+ struck. Then, while the crowd moved aside, he sprang towards Bent,
+ exclaiming, &ldquo;Take that back&mdash;right off! Take it back!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;What?&rdquo; asked Bent coolly, as if surprised; at the same time, however,
+ retreating a pace or two, he slipped his right hand behind him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Instantly Muirhead threw himself upon him, rushed him with what seemed
+ demoniac strength to the open door and flung him away out on his back into
+ the muddy ditch that served as a street. For a moment there was a hush of
+ expectation, then Bent was seen to gather himself up painfully and move
+ out of the square of light into the darkness. But Muirhead did not wait
+ for this; hastily, with hot face and hands still working with excitement,
+ he returned to the bar with:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;That's how I act. No one can jump me. No one, by God!&rdquo; and he glared
+ round the room defiantly. Reggitt, Harrison, and some of the others looked
+ at him as if on the point of retorting, but the cheerfulness was general,
+ and Bent's grumbling before a stranger had irritated them almost as much
+ as his unexpected cowardice. Muirhead's challenge was not taken up,
+ therefore, though Harrison did remark, half sarcastically:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;That may be so. You jump them, I guess.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Well, boys, let's have the drink,&rdquo; Charley Muirhead went on, his manner
+ suddenly changing to that of friendly greeting, just as if he had not
+ heard Harrison's words.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The men moved up to the bar and drank, and before the liquor was consumed,
+ Charley's geniality, acting on the universal good-humour, seemed to have
+ done away with the discontent which his violence and Bent's cowardice had
+ created. This was the greater tribute to his personal charm, as the
+ refugees of Garotte usually hung together, and were inclined to resent
+ promptly any insult offered to one of their number by a stranger. But in
+ the present case harmony seemed to be completely reestablished, and it
+ would have taken a keener observer than Muirhead to have understood his
+ own position and the general opinion. It was felt that the stranger had
+ bluffed for all he was worth, and that Garotte had come out &ldquo;at the little
+ end of the horn.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A day or two later Charley Muirhead, walking about the camp, came upon
+ Dave Crocker's claim, and offered to buy half of it and work as a partner,
+ but the other would not sell; &ldquo;the claim was worth nothin'; not good
+ enough for two, anyhow;&rdquo; and there the matter would have ended, had not
+ the young man proposed to work for a spell just to keep his hand in. By
+ noon Crocker was won; nobody could resist Charley's hard work and laughing
+ high spirits. Shortly afterwards the older man proposed to knock off; a
+ day's work, he reckoned, had been done, and evidently considering it
+ impossible to accept a stranger's labour without acknowledgment, he
+ pressed Charley to come up to his shanty and eat The simple meal was soon
+ despatched, and Crocker, feeling the obvious deficiencies of his larder,
+ produced a bottle of Bourbon, and the two began to drink. Glass succeeded
+ glass, and at length Crocker's reserve seemed to thaw; his manner became
+ almost easy, and he spoke half frankly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;I guess you're strong,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;You threw Bent out of the saloon
+ the other night like as if he was nothin'; strength's good, but 'tain't
+ everythin'. I mean,&rdquo; he added, in answer to the other's questioning look,
+ &ldquo;Samson wouldn't have a show with a man quick on the draw who meant
+ bizness. Bent didn't pan out worth a cent, and the boys didn't like him,
+ but&mdash;them things don't happen often.&rdquo; So in his own way he tried to
+ warn the man to whom he had taken a liking.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Charley felt that a warning was intended, for he replied decisively: &ldquo;It
+ don't matter. I guess he wanted to jump me, and I won't be jumped, not if
+ Samson wanted to, and all the revolvers in Garotte were on me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; Crocker went on quietly, but with a certain curiosity in his eyes,
+ &ldquo;that's all right, but I reckon you were mistaken. Bent didn't want to
+ rush ye; 'twas only his cussed way, and he'd had mighty bad luck. You
+ might hev waited to see if he meant anythin', mightn't ye?&rdquo; And he looked
+ his listener in the face as he spoke.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;That's it,&rdquo; Charley replied, after a long pause, &ldquo;that's just it. I
+ couldn't wait, d'ye see!&rdquo; and then continued hurriedly, as if driven to
+ relieve himself by a full confession: &ldquo;Maybe you don't <i>sabe</i>. It's
+ plain enough, though I'd have to begin far back to make you understand.
+ But I don't mind if you want to hear. I was raised in the East, in Rhode
+ Island, and I guess I was liked by everybody. I never had trouble with any
+ one, and I was a sort of favourite.... I fell in love with a girl, and as
+ I hadn't much money, I came West to make some, as quick as I knew how. The
+ first place I struck was Laramie&mdash;you don't know it? 'Twas a hard
+ place; cowboys, liquor saloons, cursin' and swearin', poker and shootin'
+ nearly every night At the beginning I seemed to get along all right, and I
+ liked the boys, and thought they liked me. One night a little Irishman was
+ rough on me; first of all I didn't notice, thought he meant nothin', and
+ then, all at once, I saw he meant it&mdash;and more.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Well, I got a kind of scare&mdash;I don't know why&mdash;and I took what
+ he said and did nothin'. Next day the boys sort of held off from me,
+ didn't talk; thought me no account, I guess, and that little Irishman just
+ rode me round the place with spurs on. I never kicked once. I thought I'd
+ get the money&mdash;I had done well with the stock I had bought&mdash;and
+ go back East and marry, and no one would be any the wiser. But the
+ Irishman kept right on, and first one and then another of the boys went
+ for me, and I took it all. I just,&rdquo; and here his voice rose, and his
+ manner became feverishly excited, &ldquo;I just ate crow right along for months&mdash;and
+ tried to look as if 'twas quail.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;One day I got a letter from home. She wanted me to hurry up and come
+ back. She thought a lot of me, I could see; more than ever, because I had
+ got along&mdash;I had written and told her my best news. And then, what
+ had been hard grew impossible right off. I made up my mind to sell the
+ stock and strike for new diggings. I couldn't stand it any longer&mdash;not
+ after her letter. I sold out and cleared.... I ought to hev stayed in
+ Laramie, p'r'aps, and gone for the Irishman, but I just couldn't. Every
+ one there was against me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;P'r'aps so,&rdquo; Charley resumed, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said Crocker, with a certain sympathy in his voice, &ldquo;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,&rdquo; he added significantly, &ldquo;don't like a man to bounce, and what they
+ don't like is pretty hard to do.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Damn the boys,&rdquo; exclaimed Charley vehemently, &ldquo;they're all alike out
+ here. I can't act different. If I waited, I might wait too long&mdash;too
+ long, d'you <i>sabe?</i> I just can't trust myself,&rdquo; he added in a subdued
+ tone.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Crocker meditatively. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; he went on earnestly, as if he had
+ suddenly become conscious of the fact, &ldquo;the other night Reggitt and a lot
+ came mighty near goin' fer you&mdash;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.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;No one can bounce this camp. They've come from everywhere, and can only
+ jes' get a livin' here&mdash;no more. And when luck's bad they're&rdquo;&mdash;and
+ he paused as if no adjective were strong enough. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Then they may bury me,&rdquo; retorted Charley bitterly, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ And they did bury him&mdash;about a fortnight after. July, 1892.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ THE BEST MAN IN GAROTTE.
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ 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&mdash;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 &ldquo;fuss&rdquo; 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.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ 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:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;See here, boys. I'll settle this. They're disputin'&mdash;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&rdquo; Good temper being now re-established, Rablay went on:
+ &ldquo;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,&rdquo; and
+ he began a tale which cannot be retold here, but which delighted the boys
+ as much by its salaciousness as by its vivacity.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Lawyer Rablay was to Garotte what novels, theatres, churches, concerts are
+ to more favoured cities; in fact, for some six months, he and his stories
+ constituted the chief humanizing influence in the camp. Deputations were
+ often despatched from Doolan's to bring Rablay to the bar. The miners got
+ up &ldquo;cases&rdquo; in order to give him work. More than once both parties in a
+ dispute, real or imaginary, engaged him, despite his protestations, as
+ attorney, and afterwards the boys insisted that, being advocate for both
+ sides, he was well fitted to decide the issue as judge. He had not been a
+ month in Garotte before he was christened Judge, and every question,
+ whether of claim-boundaries, the suitability of a nickname, or the value
+ of &ldquo;dust,&rdquo; was submitted for his decision. It cannot be asserted that his
+ enviable position was due either to perfect impartiality or to infallible
+ wisdom. But every one knew that his judgments would be informed by shrewd
+ sense and good-humour, and would be followed by a story, and woe betide
+ the disputant whose perversity deferred that pleasure. So Garotte became a
+ sort of theocracy, with Judge Rablay as ruler. And yet he was, perhaps,
+ the only man in the community whose courage had never been tested or even
+ considered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ One afternoon a man came to Garotte, who had a widespread reputation. His
+ name was Bill Hitchcock. A marvellous shot, a first-rate poker-player, a
+ good rider&mdash;these virtues were outweighed by his desperate temper.
+ Though not more than five-and-twenty years of age his courage and ferocity
+ had made him a marked man. He was said to have killed half-a-dozen men;
+ and it was known that he had generally provoked his victims. No one could
+ imagine why he had come to Garotte, but he had not been half an hour in
+ the place before he was recognized. It was difficult to forget him, once
+ seen. He was tall and broad-shouldered; his face long, with well-cut
+ features; a brown moustache drooped negligently over his mouth; his heavy
+ eyelids were usually half-closed, but when in moments of excitement they
+ were suddenly updrawn, one was startled by a naked hardness of grey-green
+ eyes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Hitchcock spent the whole afternoon in Doolan's, scarcely speaking a word.
+ As night drew down, the throng of miners increased. Luck had been bad for
+ weeks; the camp was in a state of savage ill-humour. Not a few came to the
+ saloon that night intending to show, if an opportunity offered, that
+ neither Hitchcock nor any one else on earth could scare them. As minute
+ after minute passed the tension increased. Yet Hitchcock stood in the
+ midst of them, drinking and smoking in silence, seemingly unconcerned.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Presently the Judge came in with a smile on his round face and shot off a
+ merry remark. But the quip didn't take as it should have done. He was
+ received with quiet nods and not with smiles and loud greetings as usual.
+ Nothing daunted, he made his way to the bar, and, standing next to
+ Hitchcock, called for a drink.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Come, Doolan, a Bourbon; our only monarch!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Beyond a smile from Doolan the remark elicited no applause. Astonished,
+ the Judge looked about him; never in his experience had the camp been in
+ that temper. But still he had conquered too often to doubt his powers now.
+ Again and again he tried to break the spell&mdash;in vain. As a last
+ resort he resolved to use his infallible receipt against ill-temper.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Boys! I've just come in to tell you one little story; then I'll have to
+ go.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ From force of habit the crowd drew towards him, and faces relaxed. Cheered
+ by this he picked up his glass from the bar and turned towards his
+ audience. Unluckily, as he moved, his right arm brushed against Hitchcock,
+ who was looking at him with half-opened eyes. The next moment Hitchcock
+ had picked up his glass and dashed it in the Judge's face. Startled,
+ confounded by the unexpected suddenness of the attack, Rablay backed two
+ or three paces, and, blinded by the rush of blood from his forehead, drew
+ out his handkerchief. No one stirred. It was part of the unwritten law in
+ Garotte to let every man in such circumstances play his game as he
+ pleased. For a moment or two the Judge mopped his face, and then he
+ started towards his assailant with his round face puckered up and
+ out-thrust hands. He had scarcely moved, however, when Hitchcock levelled
+ a long Navy Colt against his breast:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Git back, you &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The Judge stopped. He was unarmed but not cowed. All of a sudden those
+ wary, long eyes of Hitchcock took in the fact that a score of revolvers
+ covered him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ With lazy deliberation Dave Crocker moved out of the throng towards the
+ combatants, and standing between them, with his revolver pointing to the
+ ground, said sympathetically:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Jedge, we're sorry you've been jumped, here in Garotte. Now, what would
+ you like?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;A fair fight,&rdquo; replied Rablay, beginning again to use his handkerchief.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; Crocker went on, after a pause for thought. &ldquo;A square fight's good
+ but hard to get. This man,&rdquo; and his head made a motion towards Hitchcock
+ as he spoke, &ldquo;is one of the best shots there is, and I reckon you're not
+ as good at shootin' as at&mdash;other things.&rdquo; Again he paused to think,
+ and then continued with the same deliberate air of careful reflection, &ldquo;We
+ all cotton to you, Jedge; you know that. Suppose you pick a man who kin
+ shoot, and leave it to him. That'd be fair, an' you kin jes' choose any of
+ us, or one after the other. We're all willin'.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied the Judge, taking away the handkerchief, and showing a
+ jagged, red line on his forehead. &ldquo;No! he struck <i>me</i>. I don't want
+ any one to help me, or take my place.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;That's right,&rdquo; said Crocker, approvingly; &ldquo;that's right, Jedge, we all
+ like that, but 'tain't square, and this camp means to hev it square. You
+ bet!&rdquo; And, in the difficult circumstances, he looked round for the
+ approval which was manifest on every one of the serious faces. Again he
+ began: &ldquo;I guess, Jedge, you'd better take my plan, 'twould be surer. No!
+ Wall, suppose I take two six-shooters, one loaded, the other empty, and
+ put them under a <i>capote</i> on the table in the next room. You could
+ both go in and draw for weapons; that'd be square, I reckon?&rdquo; and he
+ waited for the Judge's reply.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Rablay, &ldquo;that'd be fair. I agree to that.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Hell!&rdquo; exclaimed Hitchcock, &ldquo;I don't. If he wants to fight, I'm here; but
+ I ain't goin' to take a hand in no sich derned game&mdash;with the cards
+ stocked agen me.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Ain't you?&rdquo; retorted Crocker, facing him, and beginning slowly. &ldquo;I reckon
+ <i>you'll</i> play any game we say. <i>See!</i> any damned game <i>we</i>
+ like. D'ye understand?&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As no response was forthcoming to this defiance, he went into the other
+ room to arrange the preliminaries of the duel. A few moments passed in
+ silence, and then he came back through the lane of men to the two
+ combatants.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Jedge,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;the six-shooters are there, all ready. Would you like
+ to hev first draw, or throw for it with him?&rdquo; contemptuously indicating
+ Hitchcock with a movement of his head as he concluded.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Let us throw,&rdquo; replied Rablay, quietly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In silence the three dice and the box were placed by Doolan on the bar. In
+ response to Crocker's gesture the Judge took up the box and rolled out two
+ fives and a three&mdash;thirteen. Every one felt that he had lost the
+ draw, but his face did not change any more than that of his adversary. In
+ silence Hitchcock replaced the dice in the box and threw a three, a four,
+ and a two&mdash;nine; he put down the box emphatically.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Wall,&rdquo; Crocker decided impassively, &ldquo;I guess that gives you the draw,
+ Jedge; we throw fer high in Garotte&mdash;sometimes,&rdquo; he went on, turning
+ as if to explain to Hitchcock, but with insult in his voice, and then,
+ &ldquo;After you, Jedge!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Rablay passed through the crowd into the next room. There, on a table, was
+ a small heap covered with a cloak. Silently the men pressed round, leaving
+ Crocker between the two adversaries in the full light of the swinging
+ lamp.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Now, Jedge,&rdquo; said Crocker, with a motion towards the table.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;No!&rdquo; returned the Judge, with white, fixed face, &ldquo;he won; let him draw
+ first. I only want a square deal.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A low hum of surprise went round the room. Garotte was more than satisfied
+ with its champion. Crocker looked at Hitchcock, and said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;It's your draw, then.&rdquo; The words were careless, but the tone and face
+ spoke clearly enough.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A quick glance round the room and Hitchcock saw that he was trapped. These
+ men would show him no mercy. At once the wild beast in him appeared. He
+ stepped to the table, put his hand under the cloak, drew out a revolver,
+ dropped it, pointing towards Rablay's face, and pulled the trigger. A
+ sharp click. That revolver, at any rate, was unloaded. Quick as thought
+ Crocker stepped between Hitchcock and the table. Then he said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;It's your turn now, Jedge!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As he spoke a sound, half of relief and half of content came from the
+ throats of the onlookers. The Judge did not move. He had not quivered when
+ the revolver was levelled within a foot of his head; he did not appear to
+ have seen it. With set eyes and pale face, and the jagged wound on his
+ forehead whence the blood still trickled, he had waited, and now he did
+ not seem to hear. Again Crocker spoke:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Come, Jedge, it's your turn.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The sharp, loud words seemed to break the spell which had paralyzed the
+ man. He moved to the table, and slowly drew the revolver from under the
+ cloak. His hesitation was too much for the crowd.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Throw it through him, Jedge! Now's your chance. Wade in, Jedge!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The desperate ferocity of the curt phrases seemed to move him. He raised
+ the revolver. Then came in tones of triumph:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;I'll bet high on the Jedge!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He dropped the revolver on the floor, and fled from the room.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The first feeling of the crowd of men was utter astonishment, but in a
+ moment or two this gave place to half-contemptuous sympathy. What
+ expression this sentiment would have found it is impossible to say, for
+ just then Bill Hitchcock observed with a sneer:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;As he's run, I may as well walk;&rdquo; and he stepped towards the bar-room.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Instantly Crocker threw himself in front of him with his face on fire.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Walk&mdash;will ye?&rdquo; he burst out, the long-repressed rage flaming up&mdash;&ldquo;walk!
+ when you've jumped the best man in Garotte&mdash;walk! No, by God, you'll
+ crawl, d'ye hear? crawl&mdash;right out of this camp, right now!&rdquo; and he
+ dropped his revolver on Hitchcock's breast.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then came a wild chorus of shouts.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;That's right! That's the talk! Crawl, will ye! Down on yer hands and
+ knees. Crawl, damn ye! Crawl!&rdquo; and a score of revolvers covered the
+ stranger.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ For a moment he stood defiant, looking his assailants in the eyes. His
+ face seemed to have grown thinner, and his moustache twitched with the
+ snarling movement of a brute at bay. Then he was tripped up and thrown
+ forwards amid a storm of, &ldquo;Crawl, damn ye&mdash;naw.&rdquo; And so Hitchcock
+ crawled, on hands and knees out of Doonan's.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Lawyer Rabley, too, was never afterwards seen in Garrotte. Men said his
+ nerves had &ldquo;give out.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 6em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In
+Garotte, by Frank Harris
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+</pre>
+ </body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte, by Frank Harris
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte
+
+Author: Frank Harris
+
+Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23011]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EATIN' CROW ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+EATIN' CROW, AND THE BEST MAN IN GAROTTE.
+
+By Frank Harris
+
+
+
+
+EATIN' CROW.
+
+The evening on which Charley Muirhead made his first appearance at
+Doolan's was a memorable one; the camp was in wonderful spirits. Whitman
+was said to have struck it rich. Garotte, therefore, might yet become
+popular in the larger world, and its evil reputation be removed.
+Besides, what Whitman had done any one might do, for by common consent
+he was a "derned fool." Good-humour accordingly reigned at Doolan's,
+and the saloon was filled with an excited, hopeful crowd. Bill Bent,
+however, was anything but pleased; he generally was in a bad temper, and
+this evening, as Crocker remarked carelessly, he was "more ornery than
+ever." The rest seemed to pay no attention to the lanky, dark man with
+the narrow head, round, black eyes, and rasping voice. But Bent would
+croak: "Whitman's struck nothin'; thar ain't no gold in Garotte; it's
+all work and no dust." In this strain he went on, offending local
+sentiment and making every one uncomfortable.
+
+Muirhead's first appearance created a certain sensation. He was a fine
+upstanding fellow of six feet or over, well made, and good-looking.
+But Garotte had too much experience of life to be won by a stranger's
+handsome looks. Muirhead's fair moustache and large blue eyes counted
+for little there. Crocker and others, masters in the art of judging
+men, noticed that his eyes were unsteady, and his manner, though genial,
+seemed hasty. Reggitt summed up their opinion in the phrase, "looks as
+if he'd bite off more'n he could chaw." Unconscious of the criticism,
+Muirhead talked, offered drinks, and made himself agreeable.
+
+At length in answer to Bent's continued grumbling, Muirhead said
+pleasantly: "'Tain't so bad as that in Garotte, is it? This bar don't
+look like poverty, and if I set up drinks for the crowd, it's because
+I'm glad to be in this camp."
+
+"P'r'aps you found the last place you was in jes' a leetle too warm,
+eh?" was Bent's retort.
+
+Muirhead's face flushed, and for a second he stood as if he had been
+struck. Then, while the crowd moved aside, he sprang towards Bent,
+exclaiming, "Take that back--right off! Take it back!"
+
+"What?" asked Bent coolly, as if surprised; at the same time, however,
+retreating a pace or two, he slipped his right hand behind him.
+
+Instantly Muirhead threw himself upon him, rushed him with what seemed
+demoniac strength to the open door and flung him away out on his back
+into the muddy ditch that served as a street. For a moment there was a
+hush of expectation, then Bent was seen to gather himself up painfully
+and move out of the square of light into the darkness. But Muirhead did
+not wait for this; hastily, with hot face and hands still working with
+excitement, he returned to the bar with:
+
+"That's how I act. No one can jump me. No one, by God!" and he glared
+round the room defiantly. Reggitt, Harrison, and some of the others
+looked at him as if on the point of retorting, but the cheerfulness
+was general, and Bent's grumbling before a stranger had irritated them
+almost as much as his unexpected cowardice. Muirhead's challenge was not
+taken up, therefore, though Harrison did remark, half sarcastically:
+
+"That may be so. You jump them, I guess."
+
+"Well, boys, let's have the drink," Charley Muirhead went on, his manner
+suddenly changing to that of friendly greeting, just as if he had not
+heard Harrison's words.
+
+The men moved up to the bar and drank, and before the liquor was
+consumed, Charley's geniality, acting on the universal good-humour,
+seemed to have done away with the discontent which his violence and
+Bent's cowardice had created. This was the greater tribute to his
+personal charm, as the refugees of Garotte usually hung together, and
+were inclined to resent promptly any insult offered to one of their
+number by a stranger. But in the present case harmony seemed to be
+completely reestablished, and it would have taken a keener observer than
+Muirhead to have understood his own position and the general opinion.
+It was felt that the stranger had bluffed for all he was worth, and that
+Garotte had come out "at the little end of the horn."
+
+A day or two later Charley Muirhead, walking about the camp, came
+upon Dave Crocker's claim, and offered to buy half of it and work as a
+partner, but the other would not sell; "the claim was worth nothin'; not
+good enough for two, anyhow;" and there the matter would have ended, had
+not the young man proposed to work for a spell just to keep his hand
+in. By noon Crocker was won; nobody could resist Charley's hard work
+and laughing high spirits. Shortly afterwards the older man proposed
+to knock off; a day's work, he reckoned, had been done, and evidently
+considering it impossible to accept a stranger's labour without
+acknowledgment, he pressed Charley to come up to his shanty and eat
+The simple meal was soon despatched, and Crocker, feeling the obvious
+deficiencies of his larder, produced a bottle of Bourbon, and the two
+began to drink. Glass succeeded glass, and at length Crocker's reserve
+seemed to thaw; his manner became almost easy, and he spoke half
+frankly.
+
+"I guess you're strong," he remarked. "You threw Bent out of the saloon
+the other night like as if he was nothin'; strength's good, but 'tain't
+everythin'. I mean," he added, in answer to the other's questioning
+look, "Samson wouldn't have a show with a man quick on the draw who
+meant bizness. Bent didn't pan out worth a cent, and the boys didn't
+like him, but--them things don't happen often." So in his own way he
+tried to warn the man to whom he had taken a liking.
+
+Charley felt that a warning was intended, for he replied decisively: "It
+don't matter. I guess he wanted to jump me, and I won't be jumped, not
+if Samson wanted to, and all the revolvers in Garotte were on me."
+
+"Wall," Crocker went on quietly, but with a certain curiosity in his
+eyes, "that's all right, but I reckon you were mistaken. Bent didn't
+want to rush ye; 'twas only his cussed way, and he'd had mighty bad
+luck. You might hev waited to see if he meant anythin', mightn't ye?"
+And he looked his listener in the face as he spoke.
+
+"That's it," Charley replied, after a long pause, "that's just it. I
+couldn't wait, d'ye see!" and then continued hurriedly, as if driven
+to relieve himself by a full confession: "Maybe you don't _sabe_. It's
+plain enough, though I'd have to begin far back to make you understand.
+But I don't mind if you want to hear. I was raised in the East, in Rhode
+Island, and I guess I was liked by everybody. I never had trouble with
+any one, and I was a sort of favourite.... I fell in love with a girl,
+and as I hadn't much money, I came West to make some, as quick as I knew
+how. The first place I struck was Laramie--you don't know it? 'Twas a
+hard place; cowboys, liquor saloons, cursin' and swearin', poker and
+shootin' nearly every night At the beginning I seemed to get along all
+right, and I liked the boys, and thought they liked me. One night a
+little Irishman was rough on me; first of all I didn't notice, thought
+he meant nothin', and then, all at once, I saw he meant it--and more.
+
+"Well, I got a kind of scare--I don't know why--and I took what he said
+and did nothin'. Next day the boys sort of held off from me, didn't
+talk; thought me no account, I guess, and that little Irishman just rode
+me round the place with spurs on. I never kicked once. I thought I'd get
+the money--I had done well with the stock I had bought--and go back
+East and marry, and no one would be any the wiser. But the Irishman kept
+right on, and first one and then another of the boys went for me, and
+I took it all. I just," and here his voice rose, and his manner became
+feverishly excited, "I just ate crow right along for months--and tried
+to look as if 'twas quail.
+
+"One day I got a letter from home. She wanted me to hurry up and come
+back. She thought a lot of me, I could see; more than ever, because I
+had got along--I had written and told her my best news. And then, what
+had been hard grew impossible right off. I made up my mind to sell the
+stock and strike for new diggings. I couldn't stand it any longer--not
+after her letter. I sold out and cleared.... I ought to hev stayed in
+Laramie, p'r'aps, and gone for the Irishman, but 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 some six months, he and
+his stories constituted the chief humanizing influence in the camp.
+Deputations were often despatched from Doolan's to bring Rablay to the
+bar. The miners got up "cases" in order to give him work. More than once
+both parties in a dispute, real or imaginary, engaged him, despite his
+protestations, as attorney, and afterwards the boys insisted that,
+being advocate for both sides, he was well fitted to decide the issue
+as judge. He had not been a month in Garotte before he was christened
+Judge, and every question, whether of claim-boundaries, the suitability
+of a nickname, or the value of "dust," was submitted for his decision.
+It cannot be asserted that his enviable position was due either to
+perfect impartiality or to infallible wisdom. But every one knew that
+his judgments would be informed by shrewd sense and good-humour,
+and would be followed by a story, and woe betide the disputant
+whose perversity deferred that pleasure. So Garotte became a sort of
+theocracy, with Judge Rablay as ruler. And yet he was, perhaps, the
+only man in the community whose courage had never been tested or even
+considered.
+
+One afternoon a man came to Garotte, who had a widespread reputation.
+His name was Bill Hitchcock. A marvellous shot, a first-rate
+poker-player, a good rider--these virtues were outweighed by his
+desperate temper. Though not more than five-and-twenty years of age
+his courage and ferocity had made him a marked man. He was said to have
+killed half-a-dozen men; and it was known that he had generally provoked
+his victims. No one could imagine why he had come to Garotte, but he
+had not been half an hour in the place before he was recognized. It was
+difficult to forget him, once seen. He was tall and broad-shouldered;
+his face long, with well-cut features; a brown moustache drooped
+negligently over his mouth; his heavy eyelids were usually half-closed,
+but when in moments of excitement they were suddenly updrawn, one was
+startled by a naked hardness of grey-green eyes.
+
+Hitchcock spent the whole afternoon in Doolan's, scarcely speaking a
+word. As night drew down, the throng of miners increased. Luck had been
+bad for weeks; the camp was in a state of savage ill-humour. Not a
+few came to the saloon that night intending to show, if an opportunity
+offered, that neither Hitchcock nor any one else on earth could scare
+them. As minute after minute passed the tension increased. Yet Hitchcock
+stood in the midst of them, drinking and smoking in silence, seemingly
+unconcerned.
+
+Presently the Judge came in with a smile on his round face and shot off
+a merry remark. But the quip didn't take as it should have done. He
+was received with quiet nods and not with smiles and loud greetings as
+usual. Nothing daunted, he made his way to the bar, and, standing next
+to Hitchcock, called for a drink.
+
+"Come, Doolan, a Bourbon; our only monarch!"
+
+Beyond a smile from Doolan the remark elicited no applause. Astonished,
+the Judge looked about him; never in his experience had the camp been
+in that temper. But still he had conquered too often to doubt his powers
+now. Again and again he tried to break the spell--in vain. As a last
+resort he resolved to use his infallible receipt against ill-temper.
+
+"Boys! I've just come in to tell you one little story; then I'll have to
+go."
+
+From force of habit the crowd drew towards him, and faces relaxed.
+Cheered by this he picked up his glass from the bar and turned towards
+his audience. Unluckily, as he moved, his right arm brushed against
+Hitchcock, who was looking at him with half-opened eyes. The next moment
+Hitchcock had picked up his glass and dashed it in the Judge's face.
+Startled, confounded by the unexpected suddenness of the attack, Rablay
+backed two or three paces, and, blinded by the rush of blood from his
+forehead, drew out his handkerchief. No one stirred. It was part of the
+unwritten law in Garotte to let every man in such circumstances play his
+game as he pleased. For a moment or two the Judge mopped his face, and
+then he started towards his assailant with his round face puckered up
+and out-thrust hands. He had scarcely moved, however, when Hitchcock
+levelled a long Navy Colt against his breast:
+
+"Git back, you -------- ------"
+
+The Judge stopped. He was unarmed but not cowed. All of a sudden those
+wary, long eyes of Hitchcock took in the fact that a score of revolvers
+covered him.
+
+With lazy deliberation Dave Crocker moved out of the throng towards the
+combatants, and standing between them, with his revolver pointing to the
+ground, said sympathetically:
+
+"Jedge, we're sorry you've been jumped, here in Garotte. Now, what would
+you like?"
+
+"A fair fight," replied Rablay, beginning again to use his handkerchief.
+
+"Wall," Crocker went on, after a pause for thought. "A square fight's
+good but hard to get. This man," and his head made a motion towards
+Hitchcock as he spoke, "is one of the best shots there is, and I reckon
+you're not as good at shootin' as at--other things." Again he paused
+to think, and then continued with the same deliberate air of careful
+reflection, "We all cotton to you, Jedge; you know that. Suppose you
+pick a man who kin shoot, and leave it to him. That'd be fair, an' you
+kin jes' choose any of us, or one after the other. We're all willin'."
+
+"No," replied the Judge, taking away the handkerchief, and showing a
+jagged, red line on his forehead. "No! he struck _me_. I don't want any
+one to help me, or take my place."
+
+"That's right," said Crocker, approvingly; "that's right, Jedge, we all
+like that, but 'tain't square, and this camp means to hev it square.
+You bet!" And, in the difficult circumstances, he looked round for the
+approval which was manifest on every one of the serious faces. Again he
+began: "I guess, Jedge, you'd better take my plan, 'twould be surer. No!
+Wall, suppose I take two six-shooters, one loaded, the other empty, and
+put them under a _capote_ on the table in the next room. You could both
+go in and draw for weapons; that'd be square, I reckon?" and he waited
+for the Judge's reply.
+
+"Yes," replied Rablay, "that'd be fair. I agree to that."
+
+"Hell!" exclaimed Hitchcock, "I don't. If he wants to fight, I'm here;
+but I ain't goin' to take a hand in no sich derned game--with the cards
+stocked agen me."
+
+"Ain't you?" retorted Crocker, facing him, and beginning slowly. "I
+reckon _you'll_ play any game we say. _See!_ any damned game _we_ like.
+D'ye understand?"
+
+As no response was forthcoming to this defiance, he went into the other
+room to arrange the preliminaries of the duel. A few moments passed
+in silence, and then he came back through the lane of men to the two
+combatants.
+
+"Jedge," he began, "the six-shooters are there, all ready. Would you
+like to hev first draw, or throw for it with him?" contemptuously
+indicating Hitchcock with a movement of his head as he concluded.
+
+"Let us throw," replied Rablay, quietly.
+
+In silence the three dice and the box were placed by Doolan on the bar.
+In response to Crocker's gesture the Judge took up the box and rolled
+out two fives and a three--thirteen. Every one felt that he had lost the
+draw, but his face did not change any more than that of his adversary.
+In silence Hitchcock replaced the dice in the box and threw a three, a
+four, and a two--nine; he put down the box emphatically.
+
+"Wall," Crocker decided impassively, "I guess that gives you the draw,
+Jedge; we throw fer high in Garotte--sometimes," he went on, turning
+as if to explain to Hitchcock, but with insult in his voice, and then,
+"After you, Jedge!"
+
+Rablay passed through the crowd into the next room. There, on a table,
+was a small heap covered with a cloak. Silently the men pressed round,
+leaving Crocker between the two adversaries in the full light of the
+swinging lamp.
+
+"Now, Jedge," said Crocker, with a motion towards the table.
+
+"No!" returned the Judge, with white, fixed face, "he won; let him draw
+first. I only want a square deal."
+
+A low hum of surprise went round the room. Garotte was more than
+satisfied with its champion. Crocker looked at Hitchcock, and said:
+
+"It's your draw, then." The words were careless, but the tone and face
+spoke clearly enough.
+
+A quick glance round the room and Hitchcock saw that he was trapped.
+These men would show him no mercy. At once the wild beast in him
+appeared. He stepped to the table, put his hand under the cloak, drew
+out a revolver, dropped it, pointing towards Rablay's face, and pulled
+the trigger. A sharp click. That revolver, at any rate, was unloaded.
+Quick as thought Crocker stepped between Hitchcock and the table. Then
+he said:
+
+"It's your turn now, Jedge!"
+
+As he spoke a sound, half of relief and half of content came from the
+throats of the onlookers. The Judge did not move. He had not quivered
+when the revolver was levelled within a foot of his head; he did not
+appear to have seen it. With set eyes and pale face, and the jagged
+wound on his forehead whence the blood still trickled, he had waited,
+and now he did not seem to hear. Again Crocker spoke:
+
+"Come, Jedge, it's your turn."
+
+The sharp, loud words seemed to break the spell which had paralyzed the
+man. He moved to the table, and slowly drew the revolver from under the
+cloak. His hesitation was too much for the crowd.
+
+"Throw it through him, Jedge! Now's your chance. Wade in, Jedge!"
+
+The desperate ferocity of the curt phrases seemed to move him. He raised
+the revolver. Then came in tones of triumph:
+
+"I'll bet high on the Jedge!"
+
+He dropped the revolver on the floor, and fled from the room.
+
+The first feeling of the crowd of men was utter astonishment, but in
+a moment or two this gave place to half-contemptuous sympathy. What
+expression this sentiment would have found it is impossible to say, for
+just then Bill Hitchcock observed with a sneer:
+
+"As he's run, I may as well walk;" and he stepped towards the bar-room.
+
+Instantly Crocker threw himself in front of him with his face on fire.
+
+"Walk--will ye?" he burst out, the long-repressed rage flaming
+up--"walk! when you've jumped the best man in Garotte--walk! No, by God,
+you'll crawl, d'ye hear? crawl--right out of this camp, right now!" and
+he dropped his revolver on Hitchcock's breast.
+
+Then came a wild chorus of shouts.
+
+"That's right! That's the talk! Crawl, will ye! Down on yer hands and
+knees. Crawl, damn ye! Crawl!" and a score of revolvers covered the
+stranger.
+
+For a moment he stood defiant, looking his assailants in the eyes. His
+face seemed to have grown thinner, and his moustache twitched with the
+snarling movement of a brute at bay. Then he was tripped up and thrown
+forwards amid a storm of, "Crawl, damn ye--naw." And so Hitchcock
+crawled, on hands and knees out of Doonan's.
+
+Lawyer Rabley, too, was never afterwards seen in Garrotte. Men said his
+nerves had "give out."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In
+Garotte, by Frank Harris
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EATIN' CROW ***
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