im."

The old man, half reclining on the pile of household debris in one
corner of his shanty, permitted me to sit by the door--for there were
no chairs in the place. The four corners were occupied as follows: in
one were his saddle and accouterments for range work; in another the
accumulation of rags and blankets on which he slept (for he lived
alone now, the wife being dead); in another was his little stove, and
the last held the door where I sat. The air was fresher there, I
thought. The veteran of eighty or more years, bronzed by the winds and
roughened by the sweeping sands of the desert, lighted his pipe and
said: "It war in the days o' them freighters who operated 'tween
Corinne an' Virginny City when Alder Gulch was a-goin' chock full o'
business. The Forwardin' Company hed a mighty big lot o' rollin' stock
an' hosses to keep the traffic up. The hull kentry was Injun from
put-ni' Corinne to that there Montanny town. The Bear Rivers an' the
Fort Hall tribes, the Bannocks an' the Blackfeet uste to make life
anything but a Fourth-o'-July picnic fer them fellers an' their
drivers. Right h'yur was the natterelest campin' place fer the
Company, or, ruther, a natterel spot fer the stage-station, where they
could git the stock fresh an' new an' go on, as they hed to do, night
an' day, so's to keep business a-movin', ye see. Fer 'twas a mighty
long rout fer passengers.

"Now, Pocatello an' his bunch o' red devils got into the habit o'
runnin' off the stock, an' sometimes the Company'd haf to wait half a
day to git enough teams to go on north; or to wait till the fagged
ones'd git a little rest an' then push on wi' the same ones. Mr.
Salisbury, of Salt Lake, was the head o' the Forwardin' Company, an'
he an' his people got mighty all-fired tired o' that sort o' business.
Hosses was dear them days, but Injuns was cheap; so he told a lot o'
us'ns he'd like tarnation well if this sort o' thing'd stop kind o'
sudden like; an' we planned it might be done jist that way too.

"We kind o' laid low, an' nothin' happened fer quite a while; but one
night a fine bunch o' hosses was run off jist when they's a big lot o'
treasure goin' over the line, an' the management was sure mad. They
told us 'uns agin somethin' had to be done, an' despert quick this
time. So we got busy. We begun to round ol' Pocatello up, an' he
seemed to smell a rat or somethin' wuss, an' started up Pocatello
Crick yander, that there canyon, see? He went almig