Cantankerous Cowman Gave Montanans Courage

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"Well," said Boyd, "when this fancy

coal boy drove up to our place, there just happened to be a small bunch of my buckin' horses down by the gate. Real scruffy-looking, but damn fine buckers. Seeing we had a visitor, Anne put on a pot of coffee, which has always tasted terrible at the ranch because our water comes out of a coal seam and has sulfur in it; and she brought out the remains of an old' cake she had put together in a hurry with a mix a week before.

"Well, this sweet-talking sonofabitch started right in: 'My,' he said, 'you surely do have a beautiful place here! Look at them horses: Why, they look like sure enough thoroughbreds ... they ought to be out at the race track in Denver!' and 'Gee whiz, Miz Charter, did you make this cake yourself? It ought to win a prize!' and 'If this ain't the best coffee I've ever tasted!'

"Just about that time," said Boyd, "I figured I'd had enough. I stood up. 'Listen to me,' I said. 'If you think them horses is beautiful, your eyes is lyin' . . . if you think this cake ain't stale and this coffee is any better'n goat pee, your taste buds is lyin' . . . and every time you open up, god, your mouth is lyin'! The door swings out the same way it swung in: Hit it, you lyin' sonofabitch! '

" The son of one of Butch Cassidy's Hole-in-the-Wall Gang, Boyd Charter was born in Baggs, Wyoming and spent much of his life as a cowboy and rancher, first in Jackson, Wyoming and later in the Bull Mountains of south central Montana. As a boy, Boyd used to creep downstairs at night and listen when members of the gang were gathered in the Charter living room. One tale he remembered concerned an elderly couple whom the gang paid to keep fresh getaway horses ready at their ranch. After a bank robbery or similar piece of action, the gang could count on being able to change mounts on the run if the getaway happened to be in the direction of that ranch.

One time they robbed a bank and headed for the old couple's place. When they arrived, they found the man and his wife very upset, and learned that the bank was about to foreclose on the ranch and turn them out.

"How much do you owe the bank?" asked Butch. "Three thousand dollars," answered the old man. "Okay, here's the three thousand," said Butch, counting it out. "Don't forget to get a receipt." The gang mounted the fresh horses and took off.

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