. Roosevelt in the Bad Lands . inging doors. Theplace was never closed, night or day, and the farowheel was seldom silent. The other saloons could not compete with thegorgeousness with which Bill Williams edged thecloud of robbery and ruin that hung about hisiniquitous saloon; when they seemed for a night tocompete, drawing to their own hospitable bars thecowpunchers whom Williams looked upon as hisowm legitimate prey, he had a way of standing athis door and shooting indiscriminately into thenight. Out of a dozen rum-shops would pourexcited cowboys eager to know what the shootingwas about, and
. Roosevelt in the Bad Lands . inging doors. Theplace was never closed, night or day, and the farowheel was seldom silent. The other saloons could not compete with thegorgeousness with which Bill Williams edged thecloud of robbery and ruin that hung about hisiniquitous saloon; when they seemed for a night tocompete, drawing to their own hospitable bars thecowpunchers whom Williams looked upon as hisowm legitimate prey, he had a way of standing athis door and shooting indiscriminately into thenight. Out of a dozen rum-shops would pourexcited cowboys eager to know what the shootingwas about, and as they crowded inquisitivelyabout his bar, trade would once more become briskin Bill Williamss saloon. Bill Williams was a bona-fide bad man. Soalso was Maunders. But they were of Medorashundred-odd permanent inhabitants during thatsummer of 1885, the only ones who might withcomplete fidelity to facts have been so blew in and blew out again, creating a littledisturbance and drifting west, The great majority. HELL-ROARING BILL JONES
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, booksubjectrooseve, bookyear1921
