Situated about two miles up the Platte river from Bridgeport, on the south side of the river, is a cottonwood grove. It was once the ranch of George Laing, a young Englishman who came out here for the love of adventure, and the alluring profits in raising cattle. His ranch cannot be classed as one of the early locations, but it was ahead of the grangers, and that puts it back about thirty-five or forty years ago.

The virile English are flesh-eaters, and Laing liked variety. He brought in a few hogs. They were not for profit, but merely that he might have pork as well as beef, and not rely on the old "sow-belly" of the early market houses.

In 1885, he made a trip up Pumpkin creek and stopped at Chris Streeks's place, south of Rifle Gap. He stayed all night, and sometime during the conversation, mentioned his pigs. Chris asked him where he could get a hog, that he wanted to get one for a change. George told him that the "blawsted 'awgs are increasing so fawst that they are about to run us off the place, and if you will come down and get them, you can 'ave a pair."

Laing was then a candidate for sheriff, and it is possible that his generous feelings were partly inspired by that good brotherhood spirit that gets into a man's blood when he

is running for office. Laing was defeated, and still he made good cheerfully on his proffer, so that we must say that he was a thoroughbred sport.