Distinctly Montana Magazine

32 D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A M A G A Z I N E • W I N T E R 2 0 2 4 - 2 5 ARTIST INTERPRETATION Among innumerable scrapes, near-scrapes and misad- ventures, he had managed not to die in the Windsor Hotel fire in Havre, although he did have to be rescued from the top floor. And he had ridden hundreds if not thousands of times in the rodeo (winning many championships, even competing while injured) without being tossed off and breaking his neck. In short, he might have felt that he was more or less immortal. As concerns the law, however, he had recently been less lucky. The manner in which he had gotten caught shows how reckless he could be. Francis stole a few horses, yes. He'd been arrested for it once in 1904 but the charges didn't take. Recently, he'd sold a stolen horse to another rancher in exchange for a handsome beaver-skin coat—Long George was a clothes- horse, and a spendthrift when it came to fashion. Someone saw their horse in another man's stable, and then some- one saw Long George in his unmistakable coat. Francis thought he had enough friends that he'd shed the charges like a duck sheds water. He was mistaken. Francis had spent the last 16 months in hiding, and now, after his conviction, he was looking at 6 to 12 years behind bars. On Christmas Eve, 1920, Francis was 48 years old, and in love. His heart had been broken, long ago, when he was a young man, by a girl named Beth. Amanda Spears, a school- marm who taught at the Spring Coulee school house, had helped to mend it. She loved him too, and stayed with him despite the rumors of his criminal hobbies. She knew what kind of man he was, underneath it all. He was the kind of man who would load his 1914 Hup- mobile up with candy, toys and apples for Spears and her students. Francis, recently convicted for horse thievery, had asked the judge, please, to grant him a few days to see his lady friend. After that, he assured the judge, he'd turn himself in. In those simpler times, in which even an out- law's word might be worth something, the judge agreed. As he set off that Friday afternoon, following the road— snow beginning to cover rutted dirt tracks—and trying not to pay attention to the darkening clouds in the dis- tance, he must have reflected that these would be his last days of freedom for a long time. Prison wouldn't be so bad, maybe, probably not much worse than the purgatori- al stretch he'd just spent hiding in a dugout in the woods. But, for the next few days he would enjoy this brief pe- riod of freedom granted him by the law; at the moment, there were no demands on him, and he had nowhere to be but warm in bed with Amanda. He told those he met shopping that he was going up to her place, and he'd be back on Sunday night or Monday morning, ready to pay the piper. So, feeling as merry as he could, he set off in his borrowed jalopy. The modern driver should remember that Fran- cis operated a vehicle with no seatbelts, a rudi- AmanDa SpeARS SHE LOVED HIM, TOO, AND STAYED WITH HIM DESPITE THE RUMORS OF HIS CRIMINAL HOBBIES.

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