Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

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novice
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Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by novice »

I wanted to share some accounts that relate to the note found among Adolph’s remains. I hope that we can establish a few facts and background for the provenance of the note.

From a very crude analysis we can tell from the various version of Adolph’s note that it is related to the P. C. Bicknell article that appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle on January 13, 1895.

Below is a newspaper article from the Greg Davis files that provides some interesting details. I’m posting the complete article but the meat of the material we are interested in is the interface and information between Ralph O. Brown and Erwin Ruth.

This article was on the LDM Documents page which is unavailable because of Roots Web site problems. I transcribed the article and I would bet that it is not perfect but pretty close.

Remember that this article precedes the discovery of Adolph Ruth’s remains by 6 months.

1931 July 15, Wednesday, Prescott Evening Courier

HUNTED MINE HISTORY GIVEN
By RALPH O. BROWN
(Associated Press Correspondent)
PHOENIX, Ariz, July 15 – AP --


The 20th century, apparently fatal attempt of Adolph Ruth, 66 year old Washington, D. C. man, who spent much of his time sedately at a desk in the department of agriculture, to find fabled lost wealth, is a striking commentary on the lusty persistence with which the famous legends of the southwest have endured for more than 100 years.

Two of the ancient tales – the legend of the “Lost Dutchman” gold mine and the fable of supernatural menace in the Superstition mountains of Arizona – may take another half-century lease on life if the disappearance of Ruth, who left his last trace near Weaver’s Needle in the legendary forbidden area just a month ago, is not explained in some quite obvious way.

Ruth who had followed the “Lost Dutchman” rainbow in his dreams for 40 years, he had culled over the legends and available records, having come into possession of ancient Spanish maps which purportedly to be the solution of mysterious wealth of Spanish dons of another day, he knew probably as much about the supposed location of the legendary lost mine and the superstitions surrounding it, as any man.

The apparent bodily disappearance into the sun-warmed mists of June 15, has struck new terror into the hearts of the Pima Indians, whose forbears since time immemorial avoided the volcanic range as evil ground, which forever wiped out the souls, the bodies and the traces of men who ventured upon it. The Pima belief in the presence of vengeful gods among the craggy peaks was a legend when the white man first invaded the valley of the Salt, and the superstition that those who enter the chimney like canyons do not return has clung with such force as to send, even today, shivers down the spines of travelers who look for the first time on the precipitous, mist-crowned rampart of the range, which frowns down upon the desert, 50 miles east of Arizona’s capital.

In the beginning the agriculturally inclined Pimas, whatever their belief in the supernatural, had good reason to stay away from the rock-choked canyons and basalt peaks. The hardy, warlike Apaches, sharing none of the Pima’s beliefs or fears, made of the volcanic defiles a natural fortress, In later years, the belief-browed range became an Apache renegade stronghold, in which the scalp of neither Pima, Mexican, nor white man was safe.

The legend of the “Lost Dutchman” mine, in most of its varied forms, is closely allied with the fearsome tale of death that stalks in the Superstitions. Throughout Arizona’s prospecting history, most of those who have listened to the call of the first, have defied the second. The particular “Lost Dutchman” legend that Ruth followed has been found in his scrap book by his son, Dr. Erwin C. Ruth. It is a clipping from the San Francisco Chronicle of 1892, and concerns one “Jacob Waltz,” German prospector, purported to have worked a fabulously rich mine in the Superstitions until 1863, when Apaches killed his partner.

“That there exists an undiscovered gold mine of fabulous wealth near a point in the Superstition mountains not more than 50 miles from Phoenix, has long been an article of faith among a number of mining men in a position to sift the mass of evidence accumulated during the past 20 years,” says Ruth’s scrapbook clipping.

“The district,” it continues, “is not extensive. It lies within an imaginary circle whose diameter is not more than five miles and whose center is marked by the Weaver’s Needle, a prominent and fantastic pinnacle of volcanic tufa that rises to a height of 2,500 feet among a confusion of lesser peaks and mountainous masses of basaltic rock. One can reach its base only after struggling through a network of boulder-choked canyons and well-nigh impregnable thickets. In its weird loneliness it seems an index finger marking the location of some “hidden mystery.”

Weaver’s Needle also appeared on a map Ruth acquired later, and was a focal point of his search. White men named it in memory of Pauline Weaver, trapper and pioneer of the southwest. Earlier the Mexicans, owing to its prominence and high peaked top, called it “El Sombrero.”

“In regard to the mine,” says the article which Ruth’s son believes is one of the first to have fired his fathers’ imagination, “It cannot be doubted, in face of conclusive, evidence deduced, that it really has an existence; though in view of the numerous and unavailing effort to discover it, made during a period of years, it seems more than likely it has been forever hidden by some landslide or cloudburst.

“During the past year all the old stories (that were old stories even in 1892) have been revived and a new impetus has been given to the search, which has been conducted spasmodically ever since the settlement of the territory, by reason of the death bed disclosure of an old German, who, in his last hours confided to the woman nursing him how he and a partner worked that very mine in 1863, until the latter was killed by the Apaches.

“Old Jacob Waltz, for thus he signed his name, though he was better known as ‘Old Dutch Yoccup,’ had taken a fancy to the woman, who had, in fact, taken care of him during the last few years of his helpless life, and had given her gold nuggets on several occasion. He was morose, miserly and uncommunicative, avoiding contact with men, and always suspected of having a buried treasure, for he was known to have sold gold nuggets at various times, though he never went out to the mountains. It was only when he was convinced that he had to let go of life that he endeavored to inform the woman – his only friend – how to go to the mine. But he had cultivated the habit of reluctance and secretiveness too long, and death overtook him, even while he was struggling to make himself intelligible.”

The story goes on to relate how “Old Yoccup,” going into Sonora at the beginning of the Civil war to avoid military duty, became acquainted with members of the Peralta family, who told him that they had worked a rich gold mine in Arizona in the forties. They believed they had lost title to it because of the Mexican war, and sold it to Jacob Waltz for a trifle. Waltz left at once for Arizona, picked up a partner in Tucson, whose name also so the story goes, was “Jacob,” and went to the initial point mentioned in Peralta’s instructions – “The first gorge on the south side from the west end of the range,” and found, as Peralta had told them, a monumented trail “northward over a lofty ridge, thence down past Sombrero butte into a long canyon running north, and finally to a tributary canyon very deep and rocky, and densely wooded with a thicket of scrub oak.”

“They spied what they supposed to be two, Indians breaking rock, and shot them and 4 others who emerged above ground, and were horrified, upon investigation, to find they had killed six Mexicans, apparently former Peralta peons, who were working the mine for themselves. They feared the peons would be traced, and they themselves arrested for murder. They covered the mine and threw down the monuments on the trail, determined to work for a short time and then return at a later date when it was safer. The partner was killed by Apaches as the work got well under way and “Old Yoccup” was afraid to stay longer.

“For the remainder of his life,” says the tale, “he was a morbid, fearful and broken down old man, afraid to look his fellow men in the eye and not even daring to enjoy his ill-gotten wealth.”

An old map, apparently fitting “Old Yoccup’s” story like a glove, came into Dr. Erwin C. Ruth’s possession in 1913, also indirectly from the Peralta family. Dr. Ruth gave it to his father, and the Washington clerk’s start on the imaginative highroad to wealth was then only a matter of years of planning and collection of means.

In Mexico in 1913, Dr. Ruth renewed acquaintance with a member of the Gonzales family of Monterrey, who had been his Spanish teacher, and was once Mexican consul at Kansas City. Gonzales, descendant of the Peraltas, was caught on the wrong side during a revolutionary exchange coincident with the ascent to power of Victoriano Huerta and ended his life before a bullet-pocked adobe wall, as was customary. Before the firing squad rifles spoke, however, he gave his American friend two maps of lost mines and exacted a promise that his family should receive one-fifth of the gold should any be found. The maps Dr. Ruth said Gonzales told him had come down from his grandfather, who was wont to send a caravan of peons into southern California for gold.

One of the Gonzales maps was of the Superstition mountain area about Weaver’s Needle. The other was of a purported lost mine in San Diego county, California.

In 1923, the Ruth’s, father and son, sought the San Diego county mine. The elder Ruth broke his leg in that attempt, and found no gold.

Early this year he quietly laid plans to follow the instructions of the second map – the purported “Lost Dutchman” location. Nothing has been seen of him since he pitched his camp. Only his diary with an entry on June 15, gives a clue as to the actual date of his disappearance. Packers who had helped him with his supplies had left him some days before.

Before drawing any conclusions, I want to post the P. C. Bicknell article for comparison with Ralph O. Brown’s article.

I will add that shortly,

Garry
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Re: Bicknell's SF Chronicle 1895 Article

Post by novice »

This information was also on the LDM Documents Roots Web site. I have transcribed it and apologize for any errors. If someone has a subscription to newspapers.com they can view the actual image of the article.

The red text can be found in the Ralph O. Brown article word for word except for a few minor differences. In addition Brown has simply paraphrased one portion in particular which involved the killing of the Mexican miners. The content was retained.

The San Francisco Chronicle – January 13, 1895 (Page 12)

ONE OF ARIZONA’S LOST ELDORADOS
A mine in the Superstition Mountains
The Half-told Tale of an Old Mizer
Afraid to Return to the Source of His Mysterious Wealth


Phoenix (A. T.), January 9. – That there exists an undiscovered gold mine of fabulous wealth near a point in the Superstition mountains not more than fifty miles from Phoenix has long been an article of faith among a number of mining men in a position to sift the mass of evidence accumulated during the past twenty years. The facts and individual statements, although emanating from widely diverse sources and furnished by persons who could have had no possible communication with one another, all agree in a remarkable manner to the description of the mine, and, what is still more convincing, are unanimous in indicating a particular quarter of the mountains in question as the place of its location.
Sketch appearing in SF Chronicle (1895).JPG
Years ago Indians boasted to the early settlers—notably to the discoverers of the celebrated Antelope diggings—of the wonderful wealth of this deposit, and even pointed our vaguely the direction in which it lay. Pimas, Maricopas, Apaches—all claim a knowledge of it, though nothing can tempt one of them to disclose its exact whereabouts. Mexicans—even Mexicans of means—equipped with elaborate maps of the mysterious region, have more than once made journeys from Sonora in the hope of enriching themselves at the storied Ophir. They even name fortunate countrymen of theirs who in former years, running the gauntlet of Gringo and Apache, have surreptitiously worked the mine for a few weeks at a time and returned to the land of Manana with gold-laden burros. Lacking citizenship to enable them to claim the mine, they merely helped themselves hurriedly to what they could get and departed after covering all traces of their work.

The district designated is not extensive. It lies within an imaginary circle whose diameter is not more than five miles and whose center is marked by the Weaver’s Needle, a prominent and fantastic pinnacle of volcanic tufa that rises to a height of 2,500 feet among a confusion of lesser peaks and mountainous masses of basaltic rock. One can reach its base only after struggling through a network of boulder-choked canyons and well-nigh impregnable thickets. In its weird loneliness it seems an index finger marking the location of some hidden mystery. Owing to its resemblance, from one point of view, to a high crowned pointed sombrero the Mexicans and Indians call it Sombrero butte, or rather El Sombrero, and it is the landmark around which cluster all the tales of treasure referred to, whether Indian, Mexican or frontiersman. Americans have given it the name of Weaver’s Needle, in memory of old Paulin Weaver, the well-known trapper and pioneer of the Southwest.

In regard to the mine, it cannot be doubted, in face of conclusive, evidence adduced, that it really has an existence; though in view of the numerous and unavailing effort to discover it, made during a period of years, it seems more than likely it has been forever hidden by some landslide or cloudburst, or perhaps by the earthquake that gave this range a severe shaking up in 1887.

During the past year all the old stories (that were old stories even in 1892) have been revived and a new impetus has been given to the search, which has been conducted spasmodically ever since the settlement of the territory, by reason of the death bed disclosure of an old German, who, in his last hours confided to the woman nursing him how he and a partner worked that very mine in 1863, until the latter was killed by the Apaches.

Old Jacob Waltz, for thus he signed his name, though he was better known as ‘Old Dutch Yoccup,’ had taken a fancy to the woman, who had, in fact, taken care of him during the last few years of his helpless life, and had given her gold nuggets on several occasions. He had been a resident of the Territory for thirty years and had lived for twenty years of this time on a little reach near Phoenix, where he had a small vineyard and orchard. He was morose, miserly and uncommunicative, avoiding contact with men, and always suspected of having a buried treasure, for he was known to have sold gold nuggets at various times, though he never went out to the mountains. It was only when he was convinced that he had to let go of life that he endeavored to inform the woman – his only friend – how to go to the mine, and also , it appears, to divulge the hiding place of his buried treasure. But he had cultivated the habit of reluctance and secretiveness too long, and death overtook him, even while he was struggling to make himself intelligible.

Of course his beneficiary lost no time after the funeral in turning over with the shovel every foot of the old man’s little piece of property—which , by the way he left her by will--but there are those who have shrewd suspicious that the treasure was found by another. The only gold on the place was a few particles in the seams of four buckskin sacks unearthed from the bottom of “Old Yoccup’s” trunk. His directions, too, in regard to finding the mine were at fault, or else (which is probable, his hearer being a woman and relying entirely on her memory) she got them mixed. She made several trips to the supposed locality, taking with her experienced prospectors, but all to no purpose. Finally she made the story public, and since then scores of prospectors have scoured the “suspected district” in vain.

Here is a short outline of “Old Yoccup’s story as told by himself and repeated by his only hearer: At the beginning of the Civil War, being at that time in Arizona, he went over into Sonora to avoid military duty, and their made the acquaintance of the Peralta family, with whom he became quite intimate. Speaking of Arizona, they told him that they owned a large grant in that country, which, however, being nothing but a desert, was valueless, except for a rich gold mine from which they had drawn much wealth. They had worked it in the forties; sending up a band of trusty peons, who always returned in a few months’ time, their burros loaded with the precious yellow metal, which was obtained without mill or machinery of any kind. All that was needed was a hammer to break it out of the quartz.

Believing that they had lost title to their grant as a result of the Mexican War, the Peraltas sold to “Old Yoccup” for a trifle the information necessary to enable him to find the mine, and their description of its glittering wealth was sufficient to start him at once back to Arizona. At Tucson he picked up a partner in the shape of another German, also named Jacob, and together they set out for the Superstition mountains, which, even at that early day, enjoyed the uncanny reputation indicated by their name. Arriving at the initial point mentioned in Peralta’s instructions—“the first gorge on the south side from the west end of the range,” They found, as he had told them, a monumented trail which led them “northward over a lofty ridge, thence down past Sombrero butte into a long canyon running north, and finally to a tributary canyon very deep and rocky, and densely wooded with a thicket of scrub oak."

Here the woman is at fault. She has forgotten whether the canyon enters from the east or west. Proceeding up this canyon with difficulty, they were startled by a constant knocking a short distance ahead, as of someone breaking rock, and with rifles ready for instant use they advanced with caution. Presently on the steep slope about 100 feet above them they spied two Indians busy breaking rock. This was evidently the much desired mine; and if so, it was not time for trifling. The dd not propose to be balked of a fortune now almost in their hands by a naked Indian or two. Each picked his man, and taking careful aim, they dropped the interlopers in their tracks. The smoke had scarcely cleared away when they were horrified to see two more Indians, who appeared to come out of the earth. They began to fear that they had got into a hornet’s nest, but they were in for it now, and without more ado they dispatched these two by the same road as the others. Then two more jumped up and began running up the hill, endeavoring to hide themselves in the brush. By good luck they dropped these two also, and as no more of them appeared after they remained concealed a reasonable time the Germans climbed the dump of the shaft—for such they found it to be—congratulating themselves that the golden treasure was theirs at last.

On examination of the bodies of the supposed Indians their exultation changed to horror. The men were Mexicans—naked, it is true, but that is the way the Mexican miners prefer to work under ground. They had murdered six men in cold blood! The unfortunates were doubtless some of the Peralta peons, who had been working the mine on their own account. They probably had friends, who, on their failure to return, would come in search of them, and the matter would end in the arrest and conviction of the two Germans.

At any rate, this is what “Old Yoccup” and his partner thought, and on that account they feared it would not be safe to claim the mine and work it openly. They planned, therefore, to get what gold they could in a week or two of work, and then, after covering the mine, leave the country to return at some future time.

Their first care was to go back along the trail and throw down all the monuments that had made it so easy for them to reach the spot. The bodies they threw into the shaft, for they had found a rich cropping of the auriferous quartz lower down the bank where there was more gold than quartz. The shaft, it appears, was about seventy-five feet deep, and made in Mexican style, with flaring walls, rendering ladders unnecessary. After two weeks of work old Yoccup had to make a trip to Florence for supplies. It was a three days’ journey. On his return he found his partner lying dead—killed by Apaches. After that he was afraid to stay there alone, but before leaving the spot he dragged his partner’s body into the tunnel they had made, which he then walled up and covered over. The shaft, he thought, was not likely to be discovered, as it was high above the gulch and pretty well concealed by the brush.

There are those who believe that “Old Yoccup” murdered his partner after they had worked together covering up the mine, as they had planned. However this may be certain it is that the old man never profited by his gold. His superstitious fears always prevented him from returning to the spot. No doubt he believed it to be haunted, and it was so, for him. For the remainder of his life he was a morbid, fearful and broken-down old man, afraid to look his fellow-man in the eye, and not even daring to enjoy his ill-gotten wealth. It was believed by his neighbors that he saw ghosts, and persons passing his cabin frequently heard his voice in tones of fear and supplication as though he were addressing some menacing presence. He never told the woman who cared for him toward the last how much told he money. had brought away from the mine, but whether it was $10,000 or $50,000 as some suppose, the amount must be still nearly intact, as he was never known to spend any money. He gave her at one time $5,000 to raise a mortgage, and at other times nuggets amounting in all to about $1500. But that there is more of it somewhere is proved by the fact that he was in the act of telling her where to find it when death overtook him.

It is a curious fact that the Indians describe just such a mine, with a tunnel and shaft, in that vicinity, with Sombrero Butte as a landmark; and the also say that the tunnel has been walled up and covered over. This is also the description of it given by the Mexicans who have come in search of it at different times. The great clew for which all the search is now being made is a rock cabin in a cave, which, according to “Old Yoccup’s” story, is directly across the canyon from the mine, and not more that 200 feet from it. It was here that the two Germans lived while they worked the mine.

It is a coincidence that the writer succeeded in finding a rock cabin in a cave, very near the region referred to; but it was the work of cliff dwellers, and, besides, there was no mine on the opposite side of the canyon.

P. C. Bicknell

A few thoughts and conclusions later,

Garry
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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by cuzzinjack »

Hello Garry,

Have been anxiously waiting for your conclusion. Below is a good copy of the Bicknell article and a link, and below that is the top of the newspaper page that the 1895 article was on and a link.

Image
http://mollymarieprospect.com/greatmine/bicknellart.jpg

Image
http://mollymarieprospect.com/greatmine/pagetitle.JPG

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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by Potbelly Jim »

Quick comment...Jack, best copy of that article I've seen online, thank you! Jim
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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by cuzzinjack »

Hello Jim,

Thanks; if it weren't for that article, we might not be conversing on this site today.

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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by ThomasG »

cuzzinjack,

I share your conclusion.For me it is like falling dominos.

For without Bicknell would we have Ruth? Without Ruth would we have had Barry Storm and Thunder God's Gold? No Thunder God's Gold there would never have been the move Lust for Gold.

Given the difficulty the Ely had finding a publisher for his book one can realistically consider that Wiley and Sons may very well have passed on the book as the other New York publishers had.

Might Wiley too have passed on the book if there hadn't been a major motion picture on the Dutchman just a very few years before?

No Ely book .....

Thomas
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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by ThomasG »

cuzzinjack,

I share your conclusion. For me it is like falling dominos.

For without Bicknell would we have Ruth? Without Ruth would we have had Barry Storm and Thunder God's Gold? No Thunder God's Gold there would never have been the move Lust for Gold.

Given the difficulty the Ely had finding a publisher for his book one can realistically consider that Wiley and Sons too may very well have passed on the book as the other New York publishers had. That is, if there hadn't been a major motion picture on the Dutchman just a very few years before?

No Ely book .....

Thomas
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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by don »

and in my opinion ,for what its worth ,after reading this thread ,the newspaper article is the only real "evidence" that exists for the LDM.supporting evidence,fabricated evidence call it what you will has then been added after the event,and some backdated to appear as though it preceded the article and at first glance seems to corroborate it....it took me almost 50 years to realise that,or to form that opinion ,so im not claiming im the brightest bulb in the box ,but i think that conclusion kind of dawns on you little by little ,especially when "facts" that you thought were established facts and central to the legend werent facts at all.....doc thorne, gold receipts, the gonzalez /ruth map legacy,aged pima chiefs utterings, to name a few.instead.just the product of fevered imaginations and folk trying to make a quick buck on the back of it.its a shame really.
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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by cuzzinjack »

don,

You seem to forget that Dr. Glover found the descendants and the genealogy to back it up. His contribution is the best since Sims Ely pulled all of the stories together and found the logged-off area. I have a good? post cooking, but am short of time this evening.

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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by ThomasG »

Don,

I can't say I totally disagree. My take is that if it is in Ely's book it is about 50/50 as to whether it happened. The physical author was the editor -- he worked from Ely's manuscript and other material the Ely's had given him -- and some of that material may have come from other sources. In fact, the editor received part of the royalties from the book.

There is also the question of the two different legends -- Bicknell and Holmes. Most have followed the Bicknell/Thomas version, which is the one in question now.

Perhaps the most interesting facet is what happened just before and after Waltz died. Julia's financial survival and then turn around after Emil deserted her. Recall that Emil took all the capital out of their properties before he left. Julia as essentially bankrupt. Yet, some how she not only survived, but retained all the property she and Emil had owned, and she met the financial needs of her business. And according to her divorce record the judge noted she had done it by herself. Yet, she could not borrow monies from a bank, or such, as she had no collateral. From somewhere she almost assuredly had help.

Then there was the significant improvement in Dick Holmes' lifestyle in the year after Waltz died. To my knowledge there has been no "official" accounting for his turnaround. And there is the written account by Bark that he (Bark) saw Holmes and Gideon Roberts breaking up gold ore the morning of Waltz's funeral.

However, I certainly agree that likely 90% (or more) is questionable, if not pure bunk.

T
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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

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Julia Thomas Divorce:
Thomas1.JPG
Thomas2.JPG
Thomas3.JPG
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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by Potbelly Jim »

Last part of Julia Thomas' divorce:
Thomas4.JPG
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Re: Adolph’s Ruth’s Directions to the LDM

Post by holyground »

Back around 1985, my pardner and I were back around Bluff Springs, just sitting on some rocks and having a hot beer, when we were horrified by the most horrible site we have ever seen. Coming down the trail, was an old man that appreaed to be 80, if he was a day. He wore the tan Kaki shirt and pants with tennis shoes that looked like he worked in asphalt. His shirt was stained with ample samples of everything he had eaten for the past forty years. His hair was an unruly, uncut mess, and his beard was tobacco stained. He mumbled to himself as he walked past us, never even looking our way. Pee had bleached his pants out almost mineral white. That's when the stench hit us. As he passed, we could see that he had been pooping his pants continually and regularly, for some time. My pardner pulled his gun so I instantly grabbed his hand and told him, "NO! Don't shoot him!"
My pardner looked at me as if I were crazy!
"I ain't gonna shoot him, I'm gonna shoot me! It's the only way I can unsee that!"
I don't know why, but I suddenly thought of Adolf Ruth. Poor ole Adolf wasn't in much better shape than that old poopie guy. Actually, Adolf had no bidness in those mountains. Now you can say that this guy or that guy killed Adolf Ruth but I say Adolf killed himself.
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