Many of the riders before me had been held up and robbed of their packages, mail, and money that they carried, but that was the only means of getting mail and money between these points. 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. I made the round trip every two days which was considered pretty good riding in that country. Remained around Deadwood all that summer visiting all the camps within an area of one hundred miles. My friend, Wild Bill, remained in Deadwood during the summer with the exception of occasional visits to the camps. On the 2nd of August, while sitting at a gambling table in the Bell Union saloon, in Deadwood, he was shot in the back of the head by the notorious @Jack @McCall, a desperado. 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 at once started to look for the assassin and found him at @Shurdy's Butcher Shop and grabbed a meat cleaver and made him throw up his hands, through the excitement on hearing of Bill's death, having left my weapons on the post of my bed.
