"Kicking It In The Old West" (Chapter 9)

"Kicking It In The Old West"
        (Chapter 9)

    I had a bad cold the day of the hanging.  I was told later that Henry begged for his life incriminating Ass h and refuting Suzy Dunce's lies as to Assh not being the one who ordered the rustling.  I was also told that Henry pissed himself while being dragged to the scaffold.

    I guess I should mention that my grandfather is friends with the owner of the ranch adjacent to his, Mr. Charlie Russell,who was growing quite popular for the wonderful paintings of the west.  How they met is attested to be true by Grandpa Potter.  It is told that grandpa was out installing fence posts when this stranger rode upon the scene and said "you must be Potter".  Grandpa said "how did you know that?" to which Mr. Russell replied "they told me if I rode far enough in this direction I would come upon a man who was uglier than me and that he might give me a job", this is the truth as I know it.  It was less than a year before Charlie had sold more than enough paintings to be able to afford to buy the land just to the west of my grandfather's and build himself a home and a prosperous ranch.  I own more than one of his paintings and all have been signed by the artist.

    Back to my story.      An arrest warrant was issued for Mr. Ass h's arrest and sent to the U.S. Marshall in Ogden.  The Marshall, Mr. Clifford Salaway, was soon on his way to the Clearview region just 15 miles or so from Salt Lake City.  It was rumored that the fat man was hiding in a basement near the center of town where he was known to write mostly crappy poetry and sick short stories.  His efforts to get them published for money had come to nothing and he had to pay to get them published.  When Marshall Salaway arrived it took him some three days to locate the hideout as all he asked had been paid off to send him in the wrong direction.  Upon locating the house where Assh was known to be hiding he found the basement area empty but many signs of it having been inhabited recently, so the search began anew.  

    After searching all known haunts of Mr. Assh's for the better part of a week the Marshall was informed that Fat Daddy had moved his ventures to Monroe, Utah, a small town a few miles south of Salina, a three day ride if one took their time.  

    Back in Montana I was still suffering from a chest cold and elected to stay inside until I recovered.  The next week I finally ventured out to the Kevin Bar and was informed that my friends were waiting for me at the Wagon Wheel Tavern in Cut Bank.  I waited 2 days more and rode into Cut Bank.   

more later