A Chaparral Christmas Gift

O Henry

The original cause of the trouble was about twenty years in growing.

At the end of that time it was worth it.

Had you lived anywhere within fifty miles of Sun- down Ranch you would have heard

of it. It possessed a quantity of jet-black hair, a pair of extremely frank, deep-brown eyes

and a laugh that rippled across the prairie like the sound of a hidden brook. The name of

it was Rosita McMullen; and she was the daughter of old man McMullen of the

Sundown Sheep Ranch.

There came riding on red roan steeds -- or, to be more explicit, on a paint and a flea-

not belong. to the flocks of Dan McMullen. But of all the cavaliers, Madison Lane and

Johnny MeRoy galloped far ahead, wherefore they are to be chronicled.

Madison Lane, a young cattleman from the Nueces country, won the race. He and Rosita

were married one Christmas day. Armed, hilarious, vociferous, mag- nanimous, the

cowmen and the sheepmen, laying aside their hereditary hatred, joined forces to

celebrate the occasion.

Sundown Ranch was sonorous with the cracking of jokes and sixshooters, the shine of

buckles and bright eyes, the outspoken congratulations of the herders of kine.

But while the wedding feast was at its liveliest there descended upon it Johnny MeRoy,

bitten by jealousy, like one possessed.

table, as a concession to good taste. But Carson, with great promptness, hurled his plate

of roast venison and frijoles at McRoy, spoiling his aim. The second bullet, then, only

shattered the white petals of a Spanish dagger flower suspended two feet above Rosita's

head.

The guests spurned their chairs and jumped for their weapons. It was considered an

improper act to shoot the bride and groom at a wedding. In about six seconds there were

twenty or so bullets due to be whizzing in the direction of Mr. McRoy.

Milhares de livros grátis para download.

"I'll shoot better next time," yelled Johnny; "and there'll be a next time." He backed

rapidly out the door.

Carson, the sheepman, spurred on to attempt further exploits by the success of his plate-

throwing, was first to reach the door. McRoy's bullet from the darkness laid him low.

The cattlemen then swept out upon him, calling for vengeance, for, while the slaughter

of a sheepman has not always lacked condonement, it was a decided mis- demeanour in

this instance. Carson was innocent; he was no accomplice at the matrimonial

When officers went after him for the shooting of Carson, he killed two of them, and

entered upon the life of an outlaw. He became a marvellous shot with either hand. He

would turn up in towns and settlements, raise a quarrel at the slightest opportunity, pick

off his man and laugh at the officers of the law. He was so cool, so deadly, so rapid, so

inhumanly blood- thirsty that none but faint attempts were ever made to capture him.

When he was at last shot and killed by a little one-armed Mexican who was nearly dead

himself from fright, the Frio Kid had the deaths of eighteen men on his head. About half

of these were killed in fair duels depending upon the quickness of the draw. The other

half were men whom be assassinated from absolute wantonness and cruelty.

Many tales are told along the border of his impudent courage and daring. But he was not

One who has been crossed in love should never breathe the odour from the blossoms of

the ratama tree. It stirs the memory to a dangerous degree.

One December in the Frio country there was a ratama tree in full bloom, for the winter

had been as warm as springtime. That way rode the Frio Kid and his satellite aW co-

murderer, Mexican Frank. The kid reined in his mustang, and sat in his saddle,

thoughtful and grim, with dangerously narrowing eyes. The rich, sweet scent touched

him somewhere beneath his ice and iron.

"I don't know what I've been thinking about, Mex," he remarked in his usual mild drawl,

"to have forgot all about a Christmas present I got to give. I'm going to ride over to-

morrow night and shoot Madison Lane in his own house. He got my girl -- Rosita would

remember how you shot up the festivities when Mad was married, and about the threats

you made? Don't you suppose Mad Lane'll kind of keep his eye open for a certain Mr.

"I'm going," repeated the Frio Kid, without heat, "to go to Madison Lane's Christmas

doings, and kill him. I ought to have done it a long time ago. Why, Mex, just two weeks

ago I dreamed me and Rosita was married instead of her and him; and we was living in

a house, and I could see her smiling at me, and -- oh! h--l, Mex, he got her; and I'll get

him -- yes, sir, on Christmas Eve he got her, and then's when I'll get him."

surrender to the sheriff?"

mesquite grass.

When night came the five or six rooms of the ranch- house were brightly lit. In one

room was a Christmas tree, for the Lanes had a boy of three, and a dozen or more guests

were expected from the nearer ranches.

At nightfall Madison Lane called aside Jim Belcher and three other cowboys employed

on his ranch.

"Now, boys," said Lane, "keep your eyes open. Walk around the house and watch the

road well. All of you know the 'Frio Kid,' as they call him now, and if you see him, open

The evening went along pleasantly. The guests enjoyed and praised Rosita's excellent

supper, and after- ward the men scattered in groups about the rooms or on the broad

"gallery," smoking and chatting.

The Christmas tree, of course, delighted the youngsters, and above all were they pleased

when Santa Claus himself in magnificent white beard and furs appeared and began to

distribute the toys.

"It's my papa," announced Billy Sampson, aged six. "I've seen him wear 'em before."

Berkly, a sheepman, an old friend of Lane, stopped Rosita as she was passing by him on

the gallery, where he was sitting smoking.

know."

"He's the most cold-hearted villain in the world," said Berkly. "The citizens all along the

"He has committed awful crimes," said Rosita, but -- I -- don't -- know. I think there is a

spot of good somewhere in everybody. He was not always bad -- that I know."

Rosita turned into the hallway between the rooms. Santa Claus, in muffling whiskers

and furs, was just coming through.

in my pocket for a Christmas present for your husband. But I've left one for you, instead.

"Oh, thank you, kind Santa Claus," said Rosita, brightly.

She found no one in the room but Madison.

"Where is my present that Santa said he left for me in here?" she asked.

"Haven't seen anything in the way of a present," said her husband, laughing, "unless he

could have meant me."

The next day Gabriel Radd, the foreman of the X 0 Ranch, dropped into the post-office

at Loma Alta.

last night, and was so skeered that he up with a Winchester and let him have it. Funniest

part of it was that the Kid was dressed all up with white Angora- skin whiskers and a

regular Santy Claus rig-out from head to foot. Think of the Frio Kid playing Santy!"