Arriving at Rolla, we loaded the trains with freight and took them to Springfield, Missouri.
On our return to Rolla we heard a great deal of talk about the approaching fall races at St.Louis, and Wild Bill having brought a fast running horse from the mountains, determined to take him to that city and match him against some of the high-flyers there; and down to St.Louis we went with this running horse, placing our hopes very high on him.
Wild Bill had no difficulty in making up a race for him.

All the money that he and I had we put up on the mountain runner, and as we thought we had a sure thing, we also bet the horse against $250.

I rode the horse myself, but nevertheless, our sure thing, like many another sure thing, proved a total failure, and we came out of that race minus the horse and every dollar we had in the world.
Before the race it had been "make or break" with us, and we got "broke." We were "busted" in the largest city we had ever been in, and it is no exaggeration to say that we felt mighty blue.
On the morning after the race we went to the military headquarters, where Bill succeeded in securing an engagement for himself as a government scout, but I being so young failed in obtaining similar employment.

Wild Bill, however, raised some money, by borrowing it from a friend, and then buying me a steamboat ticket he sent me back to Leavenworth, while he went to Springfield, which place he made his headquarters while scouting in southeastern Missouri.
One night, after he had returned from a scouting expedition, he took a hand in a game of poker, and in the course of the game he became involved in a quarrel with Dave Tutt, a professional gambler, about a watch which he had won from Tutt, who would not give it up.
Bill told him he had won it fairly, and that he proposed to have it; furthermore, he declared his intention of carrying the watch across the street next morning to military headquarters, at which place he had to report at nine o'clock.
Tutt replied that he would himself carry the watch across the street at nine o'clock, and no other man would do it.
Bill then said to Tutt that if he attempted anything of the kind, he would kill him.
A challenge to a duel had virtually been given and accepted, and everybody knew that the two men meant business.

At nine o'clock the next morning, Tutt started to cross the street.