Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-07-11

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himself was the murderer. And when
| I blurted out the thought, told him it
was quits for us from that moment,
and demanded a settlement, he an
swered
Sure, bub, it was me-just little
me. Moseyed up to his window,
found him sittin' writin fool letter
l. to his nanny, it turned out-an'
alfowin he had no particular right in
our huntin preserves, handed him
load out Of the SIX
That was what I went over there
to do, as far as I can remember, for
got mighty het up last night thinkin'
of him poachin' in our private pre-
serves.
can now as for you, bub, if you
want to quit, reckon you'll have to-
You've done toted fair with me, an l
don't want to hurt you none-an' l
won't If you cut out your fool war
talk. You know back talk never
sounds good to Jack; an if you don't
quit it l reckon he'll have to leave you
here, feed for the coyotes.
Settlement? Sure, bub; she's due
you, an you shall get tin the morn
In. But right now I'm powerful tired.
Let's sleep few
In five minutes the red-handed
scoundrel was snoring. Several hours
I sat alone by the fireplace, struggling
with the conviction that ought to
waken, provoke, and do my best to kill
him; and ever since I have regretted
did not do so, for had succeeded
it would have rid the northern stage
roads of the most ruthless bandit OF
all who for some years thereafter In
tested them.
And when at last, won of my lone
ly vigil, I rolled up in my blankets 1t
was to sleep so heavily that when |
awakened in the morning found that
Watkins had slipped away while l
slept. Settlement? Well, l guess he
thought his refraining from turning
me into coyote meat was about all that
was coming to me in payment for my
work. Anyway, it was all the pay
ment l ever got.
At the moment l was not taking his
treatment of me in any spirit of resig-
nation. In fact I was packing my
blankets to take his trail and camp on
it, when up to my cabin came two
prospectors, the Petite boys.
+ They had seen Watkins slipping up
toward the young hunters camp in the
twilight, and, passing there In the
morning and finding him dead, had
laid the killing to him. and had started
one of their prospecting mates to ad-
wise the troops. s@
Then they passed me a lit more
news of his doings; how he had been
gambling and drinking, shooting up
Laramie and North Platte, and gen.
orally running riot there, evidently
blowing all our meat money as fast as
he got it.
So, realizing that following him
could bring me no more than my
trouble for my pains, when they plain
ly told me the troops would be sure,
finding me Watkins's partner, to take
me as an acomplice, l promptly de-
cided it better to cut loose from him
and begin anew elsewhere.
I have always felt I owe much to
the Petite brothers for giving me the
warning. Indeed for this became
convinced early, for while was en-
route to Green River few weeks later
a mail-carrier gave me news Of the Sc
uuel and also Of certain other OF Wat
kins's doings.
One evening a sergeant and trooper
of Colonel Dodges command stole
into Watkinss camp, caught him eat
ing, and covered him with their pistols
before he realized their presence.
At the order to throw up his hands
Watkins cried, Don't shoot i'm, Bill"
When the two soldiers turned to con-
front what they supposed was new
danger he dropped them both before,
in their surprise, they contrived to pull
trigger, seized their horses, and loped
away into the hills-now an outlaw
past reprieve.
And that, assassin though, he was,
he was not lacking In nerve became
mater of CORY proof few weeks
later at Laramie City, when one day
friend of his was arraigned for murder.
Just as the prisoner was brought to
the bar by Sheriff Brophy, Watkins
rode up to the courthouse door, left
his horse outside, coolly walked into
the courtroom. killed the sheriff and
his deputy, and he and his friend es-
capped, riding double on the one horse.
The terror with which he had inspired
the community was such that the pur-
suit of him was not particularly en-.
thusiastic.
From that hour to bis death, many
years later, with heavy rewards on his
head, with his description in the hands
of every peace officer and in every
military post west of the. Missouri,
marshals stage-messengers, and troops
were hunting him for the blood
thirsty beast he was, scourge of the
overland stage and emigrant travel.
And lucky indeed was l to escape
him when l did, although, to be sure,
it was not long before l had myself
managed to butt into trouble that for
a time had me on the scout to save my
own skin.
Striking westward to make sure OF
putting plenty of miles between myself
and the field of Watkins red trails, a
long, weary plod through the alkali
and sage brush of the Bad Lands,
brought me to Green River City, then
a new front" camp on the Union
Pacific.
There, / met an acquaintance just
then in from the West, who gave me
news of my friend George Cox, in the
way of sequel to the bunch of offhand