From the Archives: The Black Sheep.

Naturally, the hyperblueblooded, superaristocratic Palmers of Palmerwood have a long and noble lineage of illustrious forebears, many of whose exploits I'll be posting here. 

But every family does have its black sheep. A family tree so ancient is bound to have produced its share of bad apples--bad men and desperate, too, living by their wits, their guns, and their luck--and here's one from the Palmerwood Archives. 

We will be revisiting the archives in due course over the succeeding weeks. 

Posted below, for your consideration and edification, is my great-great-great-granduncle JUNIUS WILKES PALMER, known colloquially as "Four-Flushin'" Palmer,  who made a small fortune in Canyon Diablo, AZ, in 1882. How'd he do it? Well, he started with a large fortune. 

Here he is with notorious sharks Squinting Vulture, Mississippi Phil, and Prospectin' Pecos Pete, the alliteratin'est man west of the Rockies.

Sadly, Four-Flushin' Palmer didn't live long after this picture was taken. He was, by all accounts, a low-down dirty snake in the grass, a scoundrel, a wastrel, a rascal, a rapscallion, a shnook, a crook, a rounder, a bounder, and an all-around bad actor.

After an ill-spent life of ramblin', gamblin', carousin', womanizin', raisin' cain, and other unspecified poor behavior, he was dispatched in a manner befitting a man whose sins were many and legion. 

I don't know all the specifics, but I do know it was a rubber-tired buggy, double-seated hack, took ol' Junius to the cemetery, but they failed to bring him back.