s too much for me, and I returned to St. Paul to enter the employ of
Edward J. and Hubert C. Schurmeier, who had been strenuous workers for my
pardon, and James Nugent at the Interstate institute for the cure of the
liquor and morphine habits, on Rosabel street in St. Paul.

There I remained several months, and then was employed by John J.
O'Connor, chief of police at St. Paul, in connection with private
interests to which he could not give his personal attention.

35. JIM GIVES IT UP

The bullet wound which Jim received in our last fight near Madelia,
shattering his upper jaw, and remaining imbedded near his brain, until it
was removed by Dr. T. G. Clark after we were in the prison at Stillwater,
affected Jim at intervals during all his prison life, and he would have
periodical spells of depression, during which he would give up all hope,
and his gloomy spirits would repel the sympathy of those who were disposed
to cheer him up.

I remember that at the time of the fire in 1884, he was in one of these
fits of depression, but the excitement of that time buoyed him up, and he
was himself again for a considerable period.

After our release from prison, Jim's precarious health and his inability
to rejoin his family in Missouri combined to make these fits of depression
more frequent. While he was working for Maj. Elwin, instead of putting in
his afternoons, which were free, among men, or enjoying the sunshine and
air which had so long been out of our reach, he would go to his room and
revel in socialistic literature, which only tended to overload a mind
already surcharged with troubles. For my part, I tried to get into the
world again, to live down the past, and I could and did enjoy the
theaters, although Jim declared he would never set foot in one until he
could go a free man. In July, he and some of his friends petitioned the
board of pardons for a full pardon, but the board was of the opinion that
it was too early to consider that, believing that we should be kept on our
good behavior for a time.

That resulted in another fit of depression for Jim. He took it to heart,
and never regained his cheerful mood, for when he was up, he was away up,
and when down, away down. There was no half way place with Jim.

In October, 1902, he left Maj. Elwin expecting to go to St. Paul to work
for Yerxa Bros.

But Sunday afternoon, Oct. 19, his dead body was found in a room at the
hotel Reardon, Seventh and Minneso