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Lynde, Francis, 1856-1930

"The Taming of Red Butte Western"


Judson's report, made to the trainmaster that evening after the
westbound train had left, was short and concise.
"He went up and sat in Sammy's game and didn't come out until it was
time to make a break for his train. I didn't see him talking to anybody
after he left here." This was the wording of the report.
"You are sure of that, are you, John?" questioned McCloskey.
Judson hung his head. "Maybe I ain't as sure as I ought to be. I saw him
go into Sammy's, and saw him come out again, and I know he didn't stay
in the bar-room. I didn't go in where they keep the tiger. Sammy don't
love me any more since I held Bart Rufford up with an S-wrench, and I
was afraid I might disturb the game if I went buttin' in to make sure
that Flemister was there. But I guess there ain't no doubt about it."
Thus Judson, who was still sober, and who meant to be faithful according
to his gifts. He was scarcely blameworthy for not knowing of the
existence of a small back room in the rear of the gambling-den; or for
the further unknowledge of the fact that the man in search of diversion
had passed on into this back room after placing a few bets at the silent
game, appearing no more until he had come out through the gambling-room
on his way to the train.


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