The bigger a man's gun the smaller his doodlewick.

While in El Paso, I met Mr. Clinton Burk, a native of Texas, who I married in August 1885.

We remained in Texas leading a quiet home life until 1889.

It was considered the most dangerous route in the Hills, but as my reputation as a rider and quick shot was well known, I was molested very little, for the toll gatherers looked on me as being a good fellow, and they knew that I never missed my mark.

We were ordered out to quell an uprising of the Indians, and were out for several days, had numerous skirmishes during which six of the soldiers were killed and several severely wounded.

I was in Deadwood at the time and on hearing of the killing made my way at once to the scene of the shooting and found that my friend had been killed by McCall.

I left Montana in Spring of 1866, for Utah, arriving at Salt Lake city during the summer.