A Cowboy Detective; a True Story of Twenty-Two Years with a World-Famous Detective Agency; Giving the Inside Facts of the...

A Cowboy Detective; a True Story of Twenty-Two Years with a World-Famous Detective Agency; Giving the Inside Facts of the...
ISBN-10
1230353542
ISBN-13
9781230353548
Pages
132
Language
English
Published
2013-09
Publisher
Theclassics.Us
Author
Charles A. Siringo

Description

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1912 edition. Excerpt: ... A Cowboy Detective CHAPTER I The Anarch1st R1ot 1n Ch1cago--My F1rst Work For The D1ckenson Agency--In Ja1l For Slugg1ng A Slugger. The writer was born in Matagorda county, Texas, in the extreme southern part of the State, in 1855, and was reared on the upper deck of all kinds and conditions of cow-ponies scattered throughout the Lone Star State, Kansas, Indian Territory and New Mexico. I spent fifteen years continuously in the saddle, seldom ever sleeping in a house or a tent. In these early days of the cattle business when the southern half of Texas was overrun with wild, long-horned cattle, the cowboys used the ground for a bed and the sky for covering. I first started out as a full-fledged cowboy in 1867 when only eleven years of age. Of course, I naturally became an expert at riding "bad" horses and roping wild cattle. Besides, this strenuous, open-air life gave me health and a longing to see the world and to learn the ins and outs of human nature. The chance came when the spring of 1886 found me in Chicago with a pretty young wife and a sweet little girl baby on my hands. We were boarding and rooming with a private family on Harrison avenue on the night of the Haymarket riot, when an anarchist's bomb killed and maimed over sixty of the city's police officers. We went to bed expecting a riot before morning, so we were not surprised when we heard the explosion of the bomb, and, soon after, the shooting which followed. A young lawyer, Reynolds by name, ran to our room to tell me to get ready and go with him to the riot, but my frightened girl-wife held on to me and wouldn't let me go, though I sent a representative in the shape of my silver-plated, pearl-handled "Colt's 45" pistol, which had been my companion on the cattle range and...

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