The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1906-01-21
WESTERN TRAGEDY.
Trails of Two Cowboys Parted, But
They Crossed In Death.

From the Denver Times.
In a rough box, rudely fashioned with
few tools and quickly, the body of Butter
milk Bill Hensley, was buried In an un-
marked grave today.
None but the undertaken, his assistants
and the grave digger were there. But
theirs was no task of love. Hurriedly they
lowered his coffin into the grave and
quickly shoveled in the earth.
Not a tear was shed over Buttermilk
Bits bier No vast concourse followed
the remains to the cemetery. NO or
ganizations will pass resolutions to his
memory. Away out on the range, when
they hear the news, some one will say:
so Buttermilk Bill bumped Off, Ell
Well, / amt much surprised. He always
was a little loco"
William Wilson was buried last Satur-
day afternoon. Prominent citizens
thronged thither to pay their respects.
! Hundreds followed the hearse to the GEM
etery and stood with barred heads while
a parson murmured Dust to dust" There
was naught but reverence and real grief
A secret order, which boasts that It's
origin began with Moses, attended the
funeral in a body. Denvers most solid
business and professional men bore the
body of Mr.. Wilson to the grave.
1t is a picture of thrift, energy and So
briefly side by side with picture of reek-
lessness and debauchery.
More than a quarter of a century ago
two cowboys rode the range together.
Both were young, full of life, racing the
future with ambition and hope.
Both were Missourians, and that made a
bond between them in a country that was
full of the dangers of the frontier. Time
after time, as they punched cows together,
they talked of the future. Both wanted
to be rich. But there was this difference:
Bill Hensley couldn't wait. Bill Wilson
could.
So Buttermilk Bill put his money on
the high card" 1t went the way of all
money tossed into the lap Of Dame
Chance. Still, Buttermilk Bill played on.
Zone o. these days I'll make a winnin'
and then for abunch of CATTLE he said
time after time to Wilson. The latter only
shook his head and told Hensley the sur
est way to get rich was to save his earn
ings.
Then Wilson secured his first steer. He
fattened it and sold it for a. profit. The
next time 1t was two, then three, then a
dozen. then hundreds, and finally great
herd.
And tickle Dame Fortune which Hens
ley had wooed so long over the green
cloth. smiled at Wilson. probably because,
womanlike, he gave her no attention.
Bill HenSley was Stlll r1ufnB tne range
when Bill Wilson left off the strenuous
life of stock raising and came to Denver
to live In ''house on the hill"
AS Wilson waxed richer Hensley's envy
and bitterness grew. Buttermilk Bill saw
the man whose bread he had broken,
whose silver he had taken. whose fire had
warmed him, living life of easy activity
in his declining days. Rage, such as
moves wild beasts to battle over their
prey, filled him. And the whisky he
poured down his throat to drown remem-
brance fed the flame of envy.
Buttermilk Bill remembered the days on
the range with Billy Wilson. n There re-
Cured to him the many kindnesses they
had done each other. He thought of the
time he had homesteaded some Western
Kansas land as favor to Wilson. Then
there grew In his mind the idea that he
had been defrauded So his hate grew
bitterer and bitterer against Wilson.
Finally came the day when Buttermilh
Bill. possessed of hate and whisky, met
| his old friend face to face The cowboy
and the stockman read each Others
| thoughts In flash. The stockman. un.
armed. turned to fee. The cowboy pur,