call it by that name; but Chandler plausibly maintained that we were only
getting back our own, or the equivalent, from the Missourians, and as the
government was waging war against the South, it was perfectly square and
honest, and we had a good right to do it. So we didn't let our
consciences trouble us very much.

We continued to make similar raids upon the Missourians off and on during
the summer, and occasionally we had running fights with them; none of the
skirmishes, however, amounting to much.

The government officials hearing of our operations, put detectives upon
our track, and several of the party were arrested. My mother, upon
learning that I was engaged in this business, told me it was neither
honorable nor right, and she would not for a moment countenance any such
proceedings. Consequently I abandoned the jay-hawking enterprise, for
such it really was.

About this time the government bought from Jones and Cartwright several
ox-trains, which were sent to Rolla, Missouri, all being put in charge of
my old and gallant friend, Wild Bill, who had just become the hero of the
day, on account of a terrible fight which he had had with a gang of
desperadoes and outlaws, who infested the border under the leadership of
the then notorious Jake McCandless. In this fight he had killed
McCandless and three of his men.

The affair occurred while Wild Bill was riding the pony express in
western Kansas.

The custom with the express riders, when within half a mile of a
station, was either to begin shouting or blowing a horn in order to
notify the stock tender of his approach, and to have a fresh horse
already saddled for him on his arrival, so that he could go right on
without a moment's delay.

One day, as Wild Bill neared Rock Creek station, where he was to change
horses, he began shouting as usual at the proper distance; but the
stock-tender, who had been married only a short time and had his wife
living with him at the station, did not make his accustomed appearance.
Wild Bill galloped up and instead of finding the stock-tender ready for
him with a fresh horse, he discovered him lying across the stable door
with the blood oozing from a bullet-hole in his head. The man was dead,
and it was evident that he had been killed only a few moments before.

In a second Wild Bill jumped from his horse, and looking in the direction
of the house he saw a man coming towards him. The approaching man fired
on him at once, but mis