The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1879-11-12

when che war sixteen an just como 81
age. a bit after ! got the gold fever an
went to Californy. In couple Of years
| made quite q pile, an went home fal
her. She war changed, and it warm
long before heard the stories an found
the truth, tibet she had gone wrong. He
war tine-haired chap who had come into
town while I war away. I war q
likely young Teller then, but the blow
turned me into devil. I went fur him,
but he heard of it, and slid out fur Cali
orny. Itollcred, an fur twenty years
I've bin hunting him all over this coast.
A voice of hell has urged me on, an I've
killed men, that the taste of blood might
keep fierce my hope of revenge. I've
never found HIM. During these years
I've heard about her once IN while, an
how she was drinking and ,going to the
dogs. I'd allus meant to see her when
I'd settled with him. His name was
Bill Armstrong."
The letters taken from the dead won
An, which had been looking over, were
mostly answers to inquiries regarding tho
whereabouts of her husband. An untin-
ished letter of her own to some friend in
the East, and dated few days previous
to her death, showed that to this poor
lost creature, with the grasp of death
upon her, there had come back to her
the glory of her first and only pure
love, and the unconquerable desire to
die at his feet, freed from the burden of
his curse. Strangely enough, another
letter gave information Of Bill Armstrong,
and stated that he lived near Boise City,
in Idaho. These two I read TO the des-
perate man who sat before inc, his burn
ing eyes cleaning with pain and his lips
mute with anguish. When l ceased, he
grasped my hand with, "Thsnk yer,
stranger" and left the room. watched
him mount his horse and ride out into
the black night. The Wolf was again on
the trail.
The circumstances I have related were
wildly recalled to my mind during my
present visit to Battle Mountain by casu-
ally overhearing an account of fatal
shooting affair between Bill Armstrong, a
mining Spectator, and Joe the Wolf, at
Boise City, IN 1878. The details of toe
rencontre I give in the words Of the mar
rator, who was an eyewitness:
"Joe met Armstrong on the street, and
and with the single exclamation, I'm
Aggio's husband' pulled and fired.
From some unaccquntable reason, he
missed. Armstrong returned the fire,
shooting Joe plumb through the heart.
He fell on one knee, and for a second,
swayed like a reed before the storm.
Grand in his physical strength. in the
power of his hate, he recovered himself.
As from the ashen lips rang out the old
cry, Its fourteen inches between my
eyes, and smell like I, wolff he fired,
killing Armstrong instantly, and fell up
on his face dead"
Thoughtfully, to-day, I sought the
pauper's field, and stood before the rude
pine head which bore the name OF
her whose weakness had destroyed three
lives. It was almost hidden by clumps
Of sage-bush, which, uns,ghtly and pal
lid groen, were fitting growths of unhai-
lowed ground.
The old story of shame and sorrow,
common, in all the epochs OF the world,
as the grains of sand that drifted over
her lonely, uncared-for grave. Yet rare
~ is the recompensc of sin so terribly
meted out as in the tragic end and way
ward, bitter lives Of Joe and Aggie Gar
and. -~,--- ,