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[Illustration: “‘CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!’ CAME THE ANSWER FROM CUTLER’S
GUN.”

(SEE PAGE 319.)]




THE WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE.

  Vol. XXII.      JANUARY, 1909.      No. 130.




The Beulah County “War.”

BY H. M. VERNON.

    One of the most striking characteristics of the Westerner
    is the high regard in which he holds womankind. Even in the
    roughest mining camps a woman is absolutely safe, and is
    treated with a consideration unknown in many more civilized
    centres. This remarkable story illustrates the Westerner’s
    innate chivalry in a very striking fashion. Sooner than drag
    the name of a young schoolmistress into a quarrel, a resident
    of Three Corners, Montana, allowed himself to be made an
    outlaw, and for weeks defied the population of a whole county
    to arrest him, even when a field gun was brought out to shell
    his fastness. How in his extremity the girl he had befriended
    came to his rescue and put an end to this extraordinary “war”
    is graphically told in the narrative.


In the extreme western part of the State of Montana, U.S.A., in the
County of Beulah, lies a little town called Three Corners. At first
only a junction on the Rio Grande Railway, from which point countless
thousands of cattle were shipped to all parts of the world, Three
Corners grew to be a flourishing place. The wooden shanties, gambling
“joints,” and dance halls gave way to brick buildings, several banks,
a school, and other signs of progress, as respectable settlers moved
farther toward the Golden West. Of course, a part of the old town
remained, and with it a few of the characters typical of a Western “cow
town.” Among these was a tall, raw-boned man who had drifted West in
the ‘eighties, settling at Three Corners and opening a gambling-house.
His name was “Jim” Cutler. He was a man of very few words, but with
one great failing--he would shoot first and argue afterwards. Yet this
gambler, who was known and feared far and wide as a “gun-fighter,”
was at heart the mildest of men, beloved by all the children in the
town, to whom he gave coppers galore. Furthermore, Cutler would put up
with all manner of insult from a man under the influence of liquor,
or from “Tenderfeet” who did not know their danger. Cutler’s shooting
propensities were directed solely toward avowed “bad men” or those who
delighted in being known as bullies. In the course of his altercations
with such characters this tall, raw-boned man--who could, and did,
“pull his gun” like a streak of lightning--added to the population of
the local cemetery with a score of six.

Among the new-comers to Three Corners during the rehabilitation of that
town was a Hebrew named Moses Goldman. This man, a good-looking fellow
of some twenty-eight years, hailed from New York. He opened a shop,
and, with the business ability of his race, soon succeeded in making
it the principal draper’s establishment of the place. Before long,
however, reports began to circulate that the handsome young Hebrew was
not quite so respectful in demeanour towards his lady customers as he
should have been, and, although highly popular with a certain element,
the major portion of Three Corners’ female population gave Goldman’s
shop a wide berth.

One Monday morning Jim Cutler, who had been up all night looking after
the “game” in his establishment, was just leaving the place when a
young woman, whom he recognised as the schoolmistress, ran up to
him and said: “Oh, Mr. Cutler, would you mind walking as far as the
school-house with me?”

Cutler, somewhat astonished, did so, and was gratefully thanked for
his trouble. After leaving her he walked slowly back to his rooms,
wondering why he of all men should have been chosen to escort the
pretty “school ma’am.”

Some days afterwards Cutler, who passed the school on his way to and
from the Gem Saloon (his place), saw the mistress deliberately cross
the street just before reaching Goldman’s shop, and continue on her
way on the other side. He also saw Goldman come to the door and try
to attract the girl’s attention. When he reached Goldman, the latter;
twirling his moustache, remarked, laughingly, “Shy girl, that, eh?”
Cutler looked at the Hebrew for a moment, and then answered quietly, as
he moved away, “She ain’t your kind.”

Three weeks after this little episode there was a ball at the City
Hotel, and, naturally, almost the entire youth and beauty of Three
Corners “turned out.” The City Hotel was just opposite Cutler’s saloon,
and at about one o’clock the gambler was sitting in a chair outside his
place, listening to the music, when the schoolmistress and her mother
left the hotel on their way home. A moment later a man also quitted the
building and followed them. Presently he stopped the two ladies and
attempted to converse with them. The younger of the women apparently
expostulated with him, and then the two went on, leaving him standing
at the corner. Cutler recognised the solitary figure as that of
Goldman, the draper, and drew his own conclusions. Next morning Cutler
made it his business to leave the Gem Saloon just as the schoolmistress
was passing, and strode up to her.

“Miss Thurloe,” he said, “you were stopped last night on your way home.
Can I be of any assistance to you? I know you have only your mother to
protect you.”

The girl gave him a grateful look, and explained that Goldman had
repeatedly forced his attentions on her. She had done her best to send
him about his business, but he continually annoyed her, even going
so far as to enter the school-house, interrupting lessons and making
himself generally obnoxious.

Cutler smiled grimly during the girl’s hesitating recital, saw her
safely to her destination, and then went home for a sleep. At three
o’clock that afternoon he walked leisurely towards the school-house,
stopped at the fence just by the rear door, and chatted with the boys,
it being the recess hour. Suddenly, approaching from the opposite
direction, he beheld Goldman, who walked straight into the school-house
without having seen the gambler. The latter waited for a few moments,
then he also entered the building. Reaching the schoolroom, at the end
of a short hall, he found the door locked, and promptly threw himself
against it with all his strength. The door gave way with a crash and
Cutler leapt in, to see the schoolmistress struggling in the arms of
Goldman. She was fighting like a tigress, but the Jew’s hand, held
tightly over her mouth, prevented her crying out. Directly Goldman
beheld the saloon-keeper he released his prisoner, who sank back
panting upon a chair, and glared savagely at the new-comer. Cutler,
ignoring him entirely, walked slowly toward the agitated schoolmistress
and stood still, waiting for her to speak.

Goldman, however, was the first to do so. “Oh, no wonder I’ve no
chance,” he burst out, viciously; “Cutler’s as lucky in love as he
usually is at cards.”

Cutler flushed at the gibe, but he said not a word, waiting for the
girl to speak. Presently, having in a measure recovered herself, she
rose and approached the gambler. “Mr. Cutler,” she said, unsteadily,
“this man has insulted me repeatedly. Just now he tried to kiss me by
force, and I’m afraid I shall have to give up my position here and
leave Three Corners.”

In a very gentle voice Cutler asked the girl to leave the room for a
few minutes. After she had gone he turned toward Goldman, who stood
looking at him defiantly, his arms folded across his chest.

“If you were a man,” he said, sternly, “I’d drop you where you stand,
but I’m going to teach you a lesson that’ll do you a heap of good.”
Then, with a sudden bound, he grasped Goldman by the throat, threw him
across a desk, and, with a three-foot ruler, administered a thrashing
such as might be given to a recalcitrant schoolboy, only with somewhat
greater severity. The punishment over, Cutler picked the man up and,
dragging him across the floor, threw him bodily out of the building.
Now Goldman was himself a powerful man, but Cutler’s action had been so
swift and decisive that the Hebrew had practically no chance to offer
resistance. Once freed from the gambler’s hold, however, he turned
and flew at his adversary with clenched fists, snarling furiously.
Cutler stood quite still, and just as the Hebrew came within the proper
distance his right fist shot out straight from the shoulder. It landed
square on Goldman’s jaw, and he dropped like a log.

Several of the school-children, attracted by the noise, now crowded
round, vastly excited. Cutler, having informed Miss Thurloe that he
believed she would not be further annoyed, but that he would keep an
eye on “that fool masher,” walked slowly toward the town, leaving the
vanquished draper lying where he had fallen.

It has been necessary to explain all this in order that readers of THE
WIDE WORLD MAGAZINE unfamiliar with the ways of the Far West may better
understand what follows. I have said that the better element had in a
manner of speaking driven the original settlers at Three Corners to
new fields. These new-comers looked upon Cutler as an “undesirable.”
His reputation as a “man-killer” did not appeal to the emigrants from
the cultured Eastern States, who would gladly have seen him pack up
and leave the town. Goldman was quite aware of this, so, directly he
recovered himself, he asked for and obtained a warrant for Cutler’s
arrest on a charge of assault. The gambler was arraigned before the
local magistrate, where he steadfastly refused to give any reason for
the chastisement he had inflicted upon Goldman. The latter immediately
realized the advantage of Cutler’s chivalrous reluctance to drag
a woman’s name into the affair, and so swore that the assault was
entirely unprovoked and committed out of “pure devilry” on Cutler’s
part. Cutler was fined fifty dollars and severely admonished by the
Court. Everyone wondered why this acknowledged “bad man” did not
promptly wreak vengeance on the Hebrew. The gambler, however, desiring
to protect the name of the school-teacher, said not a word, but paid
the fine and went about his business as though nothing had happened.

[Illustration: “HE ADMINISTERED A THRASHING SUCH AS MIGHT BE GIVEN TO A
RECALCITRANT SCHOOLBOY.”]

Some ten days passed, when, one moonlight evening, Cutler came driving
down the road leading into Three Corners, behind a fast-trotting
horse. Just as he reached the end of a long field of corn a report
rang out and his horse dropped, riddled with shot. Cutler jumped from
his buggy, whipped out his revolver, and made for the corn-field, from
which the shot had evidently come. He made a thorough search, but
the tall corn-stalks afforded a secure hiding-place to the would-be
assassin--for Cutler had no doubt whatever that the shot had been meant
for him. Reluctantly giving up his quest, he walked back to his saloon
and sent several men to remove the dead horse and bring in his buggy.
The next morning he again made his way to the corn-field, and there,
just by the fence, he found five discarded cigarette ends of a very
expensive Egyptian brand which he knew to be smoked by only one man
in Three Corners--Goldman, the draper. Evidently the man had lain in
wait for a long time. Cutler next climbed over the fence, and was about
to return when he saw lying in the path a piece of cloth torn from a
jacket, and on it a button. It looked as though the would-be murderer,
in jumping the fence, had caught his coat on the barbed wire; at any
rate, he had left a damning piece of evidence behind him. With the
cigarette ends and the fragment of cloth in his pocket, Cutler walked
leisurely up the road into the town and made direct for the shop of
Moses Goldman.

The draper was standing on a step-ladder arranging some goods on the
shelves. When the door opened, ringing a small bell, he turned, and
seeing Cutler jumped down from the ladder. The gambler looked the man
straight in the eye. “You miserable cur!” he cried, angrily. “You’d
shoot a man in the dark, would you?”

Goldman, realizing that Cutler had satisfied himself as to the identity
of his assailant, made as if to draw a revolver. That was the last
movement he ever made, for the next instant he dropped dead, shot clean
through the heart.

The gambler waited for a moment to see if the report of the pistol had
attracted any attention; then, as no one appeared, he quietly left
the shop, went over to his saloon, placed two revolvers in his belt,
and filled his pockets with ammunition. Then, taking up a Winchester
repeating-rifle, he went to the stable, saddled his horse, and after a
few words with his bartender rode out of Three Corners in a westerly
direction.

It was not long after his departure before the entire town was in
an uproar. Moses Goldman, the energetic draper, had been found
shot--killed in his own shop by Jim Cutler. The latter had been seen
entering Goldman’s establishment by several persons, and the shot
had been heard by people living above the store, who afterwards saw
Cutler leaving. Sheriff Benson, accompanied by two deputies, promptly
called at the Gem Saloon, but the officer was a trifle late, for Cutler
was by that time some miles distant. Lest it should be thought that
Cutler had made his escape through cowardice it may be best to explain
at once, perhaps, that this was not the case. The man realized that
should he be apprehended the name of Miss Thurloe must necessarily
figure prominently in the matter. Strange as it may seem, this six-foot
gambler, knowing no better, believed that by “making himself scarce” he
was protecting that lady’s good name. This was a mistake, undoubtedly,
but the fact remains that he made it.

It happened that Rufe Benson, Sheriff of Beulah County, was a sworn
enemy of Cutler’s, for the latter some years before had taken the law
into his own hands and at the point of his gun liberated a prisoner
whom he believed to be innocent, and who was eventually proved to be
so. Benson now formed a posse of some twenty armed men, and there began
a man-hunt which lasted, so far as this particular posse was concerned,
for a fortnight. They were then reinforced by a body of “Rangers,”
some fifty strong, who in turn found it necessary to call to their
assistance a body of militia. All these officers were ably assisted by
the citizens and residents of Beulah County, altogether some thousand
strong, and yet Jim Cutler proved more than their match. Benson’s men
trailed the fugitive to Kerry’s ranch, some six miles out; from here
he had gone north-west toward the Rio Grande. He was mounted on a
thoroughbred--as were all the men, for that matter--but six miles was
a long start in a case like this, and should the hunted man once reach
the mountains--well, there might be some trouble in getting at him.
The telegraph was put into operation, and a circle some ten miles in
circumference drawn around Cutler. When this cordon closed in, however,
they failed to find the gambler amongst them, but they _did_ find two
self-appointed “man-hunters” lying where they had fallen to the deadly
aim of Jim Cutler’s repeating-rifle.

From every town for miles around amateur detectives joined the hunt,
but no trace could be found of Cutler beyond the Moulin River, a tiny
stream only some twenty feet wide, so the rivulet was dammed and the
water drained off for miles, so as to discover, if possible, whether
Cutler had ridden up or down stream. While one party of men were doing
this, others rode in all directions, searched the ranches, and notified
every town by telegraph to keep a look-out for the slayer of Moses
Goldman. More and more people joined in the hunt, but for some days,
in the slang of the West, “there was nothing doing.” Then, early one
morning, two horsemen came galloping towards Benson’s camp, and one of
the men, dismounting, delivered a message to the effect that Cutler had
been seen at McPherson’s ranch, some eleven miles north-west, where
he had informed Mr. McPherson that he had not the slightest intention
of taking further life unless driven to it, and that, if Benson would
call in all his men, he (Cutler) would promise to give himself up in a
fortnight’s time. (It was afterwards learned that he intended in the
interval to communicate with Miss Thurloe and arrange a story, leaving
her name entirely out of the matter.) Benson, however, was on his
mettle, and so refused to parley with his quarry.

“If Jim Cutler thinks he can defy the law and officers of this county,
he is mightily mistaken,” he said, “and we’re going to take him, dead
or alive.” This ultimatum duly reached Cutler through “non-combatant”
friends, whereupon he smiled grimly. Being now outlawed, it was
impossible for Cutler’s friends to assist him without making themselves
amenable to the law, so