He was out after lost horses, and had to put up at a
little hotel where there were no rooms downstairs, but a bar, a
dining-room and a kitchen. It was late at night, and there was
trouble on, for he heard one or two shots in the bar as he came
up. He disliked the idea of going in, but it was cold outside and
there was nowhere else to go. Inside the bar, a cheap "bad man"
was walking up and down with a cocked revolver in each hand. He
had been shooting at the clock, and making every one unhappy and
uncomfortable.
When Roosevelt came in, he called him "Four eyes," because he wore
spectacles, and announced "Four eyes is going to set up the
drinks." Roosevelt tried to pass it off by laughing, and sat down
behind the stove to escape notice, and keep away from trouble. But
the "bad man" came and stood over him, a gun in each hand, using
foul language, and insisting that "Four eyes" should get up and
treat.
"Well," Roosevelt reluctantly remarked, "if I've got to, I've got
to!" As he said this, he rose quickly, and hit the gun-man with
his right fist on the point of the jaw, then with his left, and
again with his right. The guns went off in the air, as the "bad
man" went over like a nine-pin, striking his head on the corner of
the bar as he fell. Roosevelt was ready to drop on him if he
moved, for he still clutched the revolvers. But he was senseless.
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