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Newspaper Page Text
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THE REAL THING
By Frank Filson
Tallman was the first to start mak
ing game of Sanders. Sanders was
an average little man of the type that
is met everywhere. But the town was
small enough for everybody to see
everybody else several times a day
and the hot Texan summer makes
men irritable or malicious, according
to their natures.
Sanders didn't drink or smoke, and
he wouldn't fight. The last crime was
the deadliest. It was shown in this
way: Tallman had invited Sanders
to join him at the saloon; Sanders
refused, and Tallman called him the
sort of name no self-respecting man
takes. Sanders turned white, but he
didn't strike Tallman. That was
Sanders' finish in the border town.
A man is expected to fight Elsie
Duval told Sanders as much when
he came calling. Sanders winced,
but only took his hat and went.
Elsie Duval was the unquestioned
belle of the place. Every man was
supposed to have proposed to her at
one time or another. Tallman, how
ever, was accredited with a leading
share in her capricious heart. She
had been interested in Sanders be
cause he was a new face, but Tall
man's friends had recounted the epi
sode. Every one knew that little San
ders was infatuated with the beauty,
and they laughed at it, laughed at
the simplicity of the little man. "He'll
get his quietus soon," they said.
He did, when he was escorting Miss
Elsie from church. Tallman stepped
out of the building a moment after
Sanders had given the girl his arm.
"What do you mean by butting
in?" he demanded. "Miss Duval has
promised to walk home with me."
Sanders looked at Tallman inquir
ingly. "I'm sorry if I intruded; I did
not know," he said.
Tallman burst- into laughter and
Elsie Duval looked scornfully at
Sanders. Her pride was badly hurtu
She gave her arm to Tallman and
they went on down the street, San
ders tagging along in the rear.
It was that evening that Elsie told
Sanders he was a coward. Sanders
went away miserably and did not
see her again for three weeks. The
town snickered, but every one agreed
that Tallman was justl&ed in trying
to win the girl, especially from a fel
low like Sanders.
It was just about two weeks after
this episode that the striking event
He Felled Their Leader
in the town's annals occurred. It
went to bed with the Rio Grande
flowing peacefully before it and the
desert and the hills beyond. It awoke
to the sound of rifle shots and yells
of Mexican brigands.
They had stolen upon the place
and shot down the handful of police.
Now, galloping down the streets,
they were looting stores, setting
houses on fire and murdering all
whom, they met, The town, knew;