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 Never
Thinking of Tomorrow, Nor Expressing Regret -
The
history of adventure in America from the days of Ponce de Leon and the
Spanish grandees that were among his followers, down to the blue shirted
and bearded miners of '49, has uniformly been followed with the same
results. The life was one of tempting fate, where in success, if it did
come, can only lead to irretrievable disaster. The same results have been
witnessed by nearly all who have spent their lives on the frontiers, and
few there who are not living illustrations of life wasted, if the gauge of
material success be applied as the standard.
The
above reflections have a direct application in the case of one of
Nevada's
old pioneers, who after many successes, was at last buried by the charity
of friends in New York City, where he died while endeavoring to dispose of
mines, bonded to him for that purpose by old comrades who believed him
invincible in making a deal. He had succeeded in such efforts several
times during his adventurous career, but always with the same result at
the end.
The
money made was wasted in a wild life, and spent without a regret. He was
consequently often in desperate straits and when a mining deal was
pending, he had no hesitation in asking for a loan from anyone he could
obtain it from.
On
one such occasion, he got a friend to go on a joint note for $1,500.00,
and not being skillful with a pen, he asked another friend to write the
note for him. This was done and then he took the pen and signed it, with
the remark, that he would never see it again when once out of his
possession, and by way of explanation, said the reason was that his friend
would have to pay it when it fell due and that would be the end of it.
"But," said he, to the scribe who had written the note, "I wish I could
sling a pen as well as you can."
"What
would you do if you could?," asked the scribe. He answered at once that he
would get a position as cashier in a bank. The scribe reminded him that
there was nothing in that for a man like him; and added, "What would you
do if you got such a position?"
"Do?," said he, "I would proceed at once to close up the bank. Boys, come
up and take a drink," and the tall form of E.P. Rains advanced as he threw
down a double eagle on Dave Nagle's bar in Panamint, and he asked for no
change when the glasses were emptied.
Article in the Reno Evening Gazette, February 19
, 1891.
 Pioche Peddlers -
Pioche furnished the first live market for produce that the Mormons of
southern
Utah
ever had, and in the summer of 1872 they drove a lively
trade. But, they found soon that the trade had many drawbacks, especially
when the sheriff was instructed to collect a license from each one
offering
Utah
produce for sale. They soon adopted cunning tactics of
camping a few miles out of town and disposing of several wagon loads of
produce through one of their number, who would endeavor to make one
license serve for all. Then, the Sheriff grew cunning and appointed a
number of deputies, with instructions to scour the woods and collect a
town license wherever they caught a Mormon.
This worked pretty well a s
against them, but did not swell the treasury of the town any. The
collectors were cunning, and instead of using the legal receipts furnished
them, they issued bogus ones and pocketed all they got. An exposure
followed in due time, when of course the collectors were all let out, but
the season was about over and the Mormons escaped a double tax. The
exposure came about in a most unexpected manner. Pioche was filled with
reckless and waggish sports. One day a Mormon wagon, the bed of which was
made into a big coop and loaded with chickens, was slowly passing along
Meadow Valley Street, when someone opened the rear end door and the
chickens began hopping out, and before the owner knew it they were running
around the streets, squawking and dodging a yelling, hooting gang of
sports, who were scattering them to the four winds of heaven. The owner
started in hot pursuit after his rapidly vanishing property, aided
by the sports in a manner that made it all the more difficult.
To add to
the Mormon's alarm and vexation, the sports drew their revolvers and began
a lively fusillade ostensibly at the chickens, but the shots fell so
uncomfortably near the Mormon that in alarm and with fear to speed his
flight, he abandoned the chase after his chickens and sought the sheriff
to invoke the aid of the law. The Sheriff coolly asked for his license,
when the Mormon produced a bogus one, wrung from him in the woods and
signed with a fictitious name. The sheriff could not recognize it and
promptly arrested the Mormon for trading without a license. In the
meantime, the chickens, hauled all the way from St. George, had, as Jim Fiske said, "gone where the woodbine twineth"-- up the spout, and the
Mormon was compelled to remain on expense and hire a lawyer in his
defense. The bogus license was evidently bought in good faith, but the
Mormon couldn't find the man that issued it. A sympathetic jury acquitted
him and then the lawyer took his team for his services and the innocent
and injured Mormon had to start for home on foot, robbed and plundered by
a chain of unfortunate circumstances that left him no legal redress. But,
it ended the experiment of keeping a gang of license collectors scouting
the woods and canyons to plunder Mormons under the guise of law.
Article in the Reno Evening Gazette, June
26
, 1891.
Pioneer Justice -
Out
in Nye county in years gone by, there lived a gentleman of literary
talent, whose contributions to the daily papers of this State, over the
nom de plume of "Singleline," gained for him an appreciative circle of
readers and an enviable reputation long before his true name was known. He
was industrious and frugal, and with a nice family in his rude home, soon
commanded the consideration from his neighbors that his talents and native
worth entitled him to. This led to his election as Justice of the Peace
for his township in 1870, and he soon gained a reputation for dispensing
even-handed justice to all, no matter what their financial condition was,
and although he was a staunch Democrat, that did not prevent him from
treating all alike, regardless of political affiliation.
About
that time, a man named Harry Newton was conducting mining operations near
him, and in his bluff manner held a domineering sway over everybody
brought in contact with him. This became very tiresome to his neighbors,
and led to a difficulty between him and Aleck McKay of the Blue Eagle
Ranch, in which Harry made a threatening demonstration with his revolver.
Aleck soon swore out a complaint, upon which the constable sought Harry
and arrested him. An examination was set for the following day, and Harry
was present to confront the complaining witness, who also had his wife
present to give evidence in the case. The office of the justice was in the
front room of his ranch log house. He sat at a table, and in the corner
back of him was a shot gun, where it was always left after a hunting trip.
The parties interested in the case sat on either side of the room, and as
Harry was in an ugly humor, it was not long before hot words were passing
between him and Aleck, and as Harry made a movement to draw his pistol
Aleck reached for his wife's satchel at her feet near him. Each was
brought to a sudden halt when the Court said, "order gentlemen," and a
glance restored quiet, for the Justice had drawn a bead on them with the
shot gun and had the drop on both. They sat down and the Justice ordered
the constable to disarm them, while he still covered them with the gun.
Aleck said he had no gun and when the constable assured himself of that,
Harry gave up his, but very reluctantly.
Then
the justice directed the constable to place the lady's satchel on his
table and when it was done he opened and found as he suspected, a large
ivory-handled revolver in it, placed there for an emergency. After the
Justice secured the guns, he laid the shot gun across the table and
ordered the examination to proceed. It resulted in Harry being bound over
and the Justice informed him that he would fix the bail at $1,000. Harry
replied a little sullenly that he would see everybody d----d first and
that when they wanted him at Belmont, the county seat, they could send for
him. While he was saying this the Justice was in the act of moving the
shot gun from the table to its usual resting place, but stopped to inform
him in a resolute manner that he must furnish the bond or he would send
him at once to the county jail. Harry sat down and sent for a friend and
the bond was soon executed, "because," as he said afterward, "he couldn't
refuse obeying the order of a court that was run with a shot gun."
The
resolute Justice, known as "Singleline" was Dr. J. W. Gally, later a
resident of Watsonville,
California , and one of the Directors of the
Insane Asylum at Agnews, and during the building of it, the contractors
learned that he was one they could not influence, and he was known and
esteemed for his strict integrity and unquestioned honesty.
Article in the Reno Evening Gazette, March 25,
1891
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