HANK SMITH'S OLD DAD.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3159, 13 August 1881, Page 4

HANK SMITH'S OLD DAD.

\Mfiirp w or If s in her own curious ways. VV" fin' ri}<e* in the shadow of post-houses, nil ' wp find i\ sudden streak of goodness hililc ii nw;iy down in (lie heart of a thorough cijlinn. ''i'lC Hank Smith, of Devil's Klbow, via*,, i-.iir'i-M'.<v! r.isfiil. Nature built liirn f-.-.r ■■ vUH !'i. he urn-" hi'n n leering, hang- . !■...);. -he ijiire lii-'ti the evo« of a tiger. ,' i- jifiu' 'iin i> c>olll )• vv'iich ;i wnlf would hii.ve cnrii-d, You knew fFank tnr a villian at (he first sr'nnr-e, and he always seemed as if he l-npw yon knew it. Tt took a good deal to wake up our camp. There were farmers from Ohio, broken down tradesmen from Indiana, mechanics from Illinois, and two or three ex-preachers and schoolmasters from New England, and we didn't 'muscle up' and 'slam bang , men into eternity as they did up the Gulch and down on the Flats. That's why Big Hank Smith made our camp his head-quarters. His profession was that of a gambler, but it was stronsly suspected that he was a thief and robber and something worse. After several bold robberies and two attempted murders in our camp, it was decided that Hank must go. We had no proofs, yet everybody felt sure he was the guihy man. "We expected a row, but none came. He packed up his traps in sullen silence, taking hit own t]r,*e> t'ni , it, nnd while the camp was at dinner he skulked awny, going towards l" , >' I'lfK lie was(.nly outof sijfht of camp when lie mcl one of our men who had been down the trail, and without word or provocation he out with his bowie-knife and slashed and cut until his victim had a dozen mortal wounds. A Chinaman saw the whole affair from the bushes and brought us the news, and so it hapoened that Big Hank had not left our camp over two hours before he was brought back a prisoner. His victim was yet alive, and we had plenty of proofs for hanging the murderer. Devil's Elbow was at last excited. Men who wouldn't shy a stone at a dog were now anxious to pull on the hangman's rope, and big Hank Smith had only to look at the pale and determined faces around him to realise that his career was ended Yet we didn't rush things. Everybody was agreed that the man must have a little time to prepare himself for eternity, and he was told that he should live till sundown. His reply was : ' Bah ! You are all a pack of coyotes, and if I had free hands and a knife I could drive you all off the hill.' And now a curious circumstance occurred. No one had ever stopped to wonder if Big Hank had father or mother or other relatives, but about midaf lernoon a man came down the gulch from Four Jacks with a message for our prisoner. It was to the effect that his father, a man over 70 years old, was coming down to see him, and would reach the Elbow some time next forenoon. They had not met for 30 years, and the old man had spent several years and a heap of money looking for his missing son. Wei], sir, that news melted Big Hank Smith in no time at all, I was one of the guards oyer him, and I saw and heard all

that was said and done. In five minutes the murderer's countenance lost its wolfish brutal look, the hateful gleam melted out of his eyes, and I couldn't have sworn ho was the same man. He asked for some of our leaders to come in, and when they were there he explained : " I killed Pet? l ' White, and its proper I should swing for ifc. I simply wanted to say that my old dad will be here to-uiorrow. (3-od never made a better man. I ran away from home years ago, and he's found me at last. He thinks of me as rii honest, respectable man, and if he knew the truth it would kill him. He'll come hero, because there's no excuse to stop him, and I've got this favor to ask : Being as yon are goins to hang me anyhow, and being as a few hours can't help or hurb either side, I want the performance to come off half an hour from now. When it's over give me a decent burial on the hill, and then fix up a story to tell my old clad. Tellhimldied of fever, or fell off the cliff, or was accidentally shot —anything but the truth. He's an old man. His hair is gray, and his face wrinkled, and he'll speak so softly and have such child i h confidence that you'll pity him from the bottom of your hearts. Don't say that I was a gambler and robber and murderer. Q-et around it some way for his sake. Dig my grave where you will, he'll kneel beside it and offer up aprnyer, and he'll have te.trs in his eyes as he talks to you. I ask tliis favour and this only, and if you are men you'll grant it.' I tell you it surprised us to sco that hardened villain break down that way a>id ti k in that manner, and if iTis crime had bivn anything less than wilful murder he wotiicl have been allowed to walk out of the camp. As the case stood, he must hang. Ca'iip laws were just laws, whether legal or n ■•• Big Hank received the promises h--ask •; for, and shortly after four o'clock lie w.-i----led out and hung by the neck until dei !. He was a game man, and died as he had lived. As the noose was slipped over his neck he said: ' It's a dog's death, but I'm to blame for it. Be civil to the oM man, but tell him anything but the truth. Go ahead with your hanging. . Well, what do you think? there were 129 of the camp at Duvil's Elbow, and Big Hank Smith's old dad would be along next forenoon. First one party slid out for the Flat, and then another packed up for and another for Six Mile Bend, and at nine o'clock next forenoon the Elbow was deserted. Not a man had the sand to remain there and face the poor old man and lie to him about his boy. "When he came down the trail he found the camp deserted, but on the hill was a new-made grave and a sign reading: HENRY SMITH, A3KD AB r >DT 30, Fell off a ba-rol and died soon after. His father will flnd srnne relics down at the Flats. —Detroit Free Press.