My old friend and partner, Canada Bill, presented me with a very
fine double-barreled shotgun, which I would often take with me when
we were out on our trips. We were on the L. & N. Railroad one
morning, and I had the gun with me. We had left our baggage in
the ladies' car, and were over in the smoker, when we saw a sucker.
We went to work on him in the usual way, and it was not long until
Bill had $400 of his money. I expected he would kick, from the
way he was squirming around; so I gave Bill the office to get off,
and I went back in the ladies' car where we had left our baggage.
Old Bill was sometimes slow in getting off after he had won the
money, and on this occasion he was again behind time.
I had not been seated but a moment, when a brakeman came running
in and told me my partner was in trouble. I jumped up, grabbed my
shotgun, and started for the smoking-car; and I did not get there
any too soon, for the four-hundred-dollar sucker had Bill crouching
in a seat, and was standing over him with a big gun covering him.
He had given Bill but two minutes to give up the money, and Bill
had out his roll counting her out. I rushed up, struck the big
fellow with the new gun on the side of the head and knocked him
senseless. His big gun dropped on the floor. I picked it up and
stuck it in my pocket. Bill lit out as soon as he could get out
of his seat, and left me to look after the big fellow on the floor.
With the assistance of some of the passengers I got him up, and
found he was pretty badly hurt. I told him I was sorry I had hit
him, but I thought he was going to kill the old fellow.
He said, "I was only trying to scare him so he would give me back
my money, as it was all I had. I could not have shot him if I had
wanted to, as the pistol was not loaded."
I pulled out the old thing, and sure enough there was not a load
in it. I asked the fellow what business he was engaged in, and he
told me he was a ship-carpenter. As that was my father's business,
I felt very sorry for him, and I gave him $100 and left the train
at the next station. I learned from the brakeman that Bill had
dropped off a few miles back, and I knew he would show up soon; so
I left the baggage at the depot, took my gun, and made for the
woods. Robbins were plentiful, and in a short time I had eight
nice birds for our breakfast. I went back to the station, where
I found old Bill waiting for me. He was glad to see me and the
birds, so he said, "George, I'm glad I bought that gun for you,
for it saved my life to-day; besides, we will have birds for
breakfast."
I replied, "Yes, Bill, that was the worst fellow you ever met. He
would have killed you, sure, with that big gun."