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Show 46 WESTERN WILDS. of presiding at a " neck- tie sociable " where two of the men who had robbed him were hanged. Some more " dust " was obtained out of the old claim in which he still held an interest, and in 1867 he came down on the Union Pacific as a trader. He had what he called a " big biz " at each successive terminus town, and was now in Omaha to buy a " little bill " of ten thousand dollars' worth of provisions, tobacco and " bitters " for the new metropolis beyond Cheyenne. Three years after I found him away up in the mountains of Utah, where he had put all his available means in a new and half- developed mine, and was sinking on the vein with tireless energy, in the daily hope of striking a bonanza. These hopeful ones rarely make the most money, but without them when would the Great West ever have been developed ? There, too, was Jim Garraway ( who, however, will never recognize himself by this name), born and reared a gambler never knew much else from boyhood. His father, companions, friends, all were gam-blers ; as a baby he played with faro checks, and learned English in the atmosphere of pool rooms. At twenty gaming was his ( infatu-ation. Now he had thoroughly reformed, never touched a card, and was in a responsible position in Wells, Fargo & Co.' s employ. Two years after he surprised me by a call at my office in Corinne, Utah. He was freighting thence to Montana, the owner of mules and wagons worth five thousand dollars. One evening, when idle time hung heavy on his hands, he strayed into one of our " sporting rooms." The smooth- spoken proprietor who so styled it, might have added, " What is sport to us is death to you," for Jim's old infatuation returned. He staked a pile of " chips " and won ; then made and lost, and made and lost alternately, selling his stock when " broke," and scarcely ate or slept till the tail of his last mule was " coppered on the jack." Repentant and returning Mormons were numerous, but seldom noisy. One I met who had been back and forth, in and out of the Church, three times. Now he declared with profane emphasis that this was the last time ; he had seen enough. One little party of a hundred recusant Saints, of all ages from six months to seventy years, had made the journey in primitive style with slow and patient ox-teams, all the adults walking. They had left Salt Lake Valley as soon as the caflons were clear of snow, and been three months on the road. Their condition was wretched; for in those days, under the iron- clad laws of Utah, no apostate ever got out of the Territory with any thing worth leaving. The Mormon priesthood taught the apostolic doctrine of " laying on of hands," and, the dissenters added, what they laid hands on they generally got away with. These people |