Captain Jim Smith was the man. And pleased enough was he when told of
the turbulence of the country and the certainty of plenty doing in his
line.

But by the time they reached the Mescalero Agency, the feud was ended;
the peace of exhaustion after years of open war and ambush had
descended upon Lincoln County, and the Mescaleros were glad enough
quietly to draw their rations of flour and coffee, and range the
Sacramentos and Guadalupes for game. For Jim and the band of Indian
police which he quickly organized there was nothing doing.

Inaction soon cloyed Captain Jim. It got on his nerves. Presently he
conceived a resentment toward the agent for bringing him down there
under false pretences of daring deeds to be done, that never
materialized. One day Major Llewellyn imprudently countermanded an
order Jim had given his Chief of Police, under conditions which the
Captain took as a personal affront. The next thing the Major knew, he
was covered by Jim's gun listening to his death sentence.

"Major," began Captain Jim, "right here is where you cash in. Played
me for a big fool long enough. Toted me off down here on the guarantee
of the best show of fightin' I've heard of since the war--here where
there ain't a man in the Territory with nerve enough left to tackle a
prairie dog, 's far 's I can see. Lied to me a plenty, didn't you?
Anything to say before you quit?"

Since that time Major Llewellyn has become (and is now) a famous
pleader at the New Mexican bar, but I know he will agree that the most
eloquent plea he has t this day made was that in answer to Captain
Jim's arraignment. Luckily it won.

A month later Jim called on me at El Paso. At the time I was President
of the West Texas Cattle Growers' Association, organized chiefly to
deal with marauding rustlers.

"Howd'y, Ed," Jim began, "I've jumped the Mescalero Reservation, headed
north. Nothin' doin' down here now. But, say, Ed, I hear they're
crowdin' the rustlers a plenty up in the Indian Territory and the Pan
Handle, and she's a cinch they'll be down on you thick in a few months.
And, say, Ed, don't forget old Jim; when the rustlers come, send for
him. You know he's the cheapest proposition ever--never any lawyers'
fees or court costs, nothin' to pay but just Jim's wages."

That was the last time we ever met, and lucky it will probably be for
me if we never meet again; for if Jim still lives and there is aught in
this story he sees occasio