The Mountain DivideSpearman, Frank H. (Frank Hamilton)
General
The Mountain Divide
Spearman, Frank H. (Frank Hamilton)
Western stories
The encounter was spirited, but it took only a moment to convince the
assaulting party that they had made a mistake. Clubbing their heavy
revolvers, the guards, any one of whom in close quarters could account
for two ordinary men, threw themselves from the car step directly
into the crowd and struck right and left. There was no regard for
persons, and in the half-dark the Medicine Bend ruffians, surprised
and confused, were soon fighting one another.
But one-sided as the contest was, it did not go fast enough to suit
the guards, who, seizing the clubs thrown away by the rabble, charged
them in a line and drove them up the street. Railroad men who came
running from the station to help were too late. The flurry was over
and they found nothing to do but to cheer their new aids.
Nor were the gamblers asleep. Word had gone out both east and west of
the approaching crisis between the disorderly and the law-and-order
elements, and every passenger train into Medicine Bend brought
mysterious men from towns and railroad camps who were openly or
secretly allied in one or another vicious calling to the classes that
were now making a stand for the rule or ruin of the railroad town.
A mob of sympathizers gathered in Front Street to protect from
further punishment the party that had tried to capture the express
car. But the railroad men had no idea of pursuing the raiders beyond
the yard limits, and indeed were restrained by strict orders from
doing so. Stanley sent word immediately to the sheriff, demanding the
arrest of the new peace-disturbers, but the sheriff no longer made a
pretence of arresting law-breakers. In Front Street, the mob,
emboldened by their apparent control of the situation and increasing
in clamor and numbers, were now in a humor for anything that promised
pillage or vengeance. There were still among them a few cool-headed
criminals who counselled caution, but these were hooted down by men
who had never tasted the rigor of vigilante rule.
Out of a dozen wild schemes broached by as many wild heads of the
excited crowd, in which were now lined up for any lawlessness all the
idlers, floaters, the improvident, and the reckless elements of a
frontier gambling town, one caught the popular fancy. Some one
proposed a jail delivery to release Rebstock and Seagrue, persecuted
by the railroad company. The idea spread like wildfire, and a score of
men, reinforced by more at every door as they proceeded up Front
Street, made their way to the jail.
Fast as they came, time was given for word to the sheriff, who
conveniently got out of the way, and, led by half a dozen men with
crowbars and spike-mauls, the outlaws surrounded and overran the jail
yard and without a show of resistance from any one began smashing in
the entrance and battering down the cell doors.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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