not absolutely dear that I have purchased in the United States.

On sunny afternoons the rank, fashion, and beauty of Kansas City come out in gala attire. Rank and fashion of the male sex is a little monotonous in its dress, being, as already hinted, addicted to shirt-sleeves and feet up a telegraph-post. telegraph-post. But female beauty, here as elsewhere, is not to be coerced into déshabille by any exigencies of weather. Between four and five in the afternoon is the fashionable hour for the Kansas belle to go shopping, or to take the air, and then, indeed, Main Street presents a dazzling kaleidoscope of beauty, ever shifting, but always rare. Some of the dress materials worn seem a little out of place at 80° in the shade. But then, passing visitors know nothing of the normal condition of Kansas City in summer time, with the thermometer at 140°. As it is "too cold for water-melons," it is warm for velvet and plush of cool refreshing purple or brilliant red. But white dresses are chiefly in vogue-not the simple white muslin frock which English girls too rarely wear, but a thick white material made heavier with embroideries and with ribbons and laces sewn on wherever, on completion of the costume, it had been found that a few square

not too

inches of the material have inadvertently been left plain. The hat is usually of straw, almost absolutely flat, and secured on the top of the head by a combination of pins and ribbons. This flat shape is designed with the object of displaying the coiffure a wonderful arrangement, whether regarded from the rear, where it bursts out in a series of unexpected and unaccountable knobs, or gazed upon from the front, where it is combed and trimmed over the brow in a kind of sublimated fringe.

The Kansas girl has heard that in Paris and London, which, owing to the accident of elder birth, are perhaps a little ahead in the matter of fashions, crinoline has partially resumed its empire. But if Paris and London have been first in the field, it does not follow that they shall keep their place when Kansas City enters into competition. A Kansas girl does not do things by halves. It is understood that in Europe crinoline is worn only at the back, a cage being, as it were, cut in two and attached. A Kansas belle takes a whole crinoline, hitches it on behind, and, serenely conscious of a fluttering at the hearts of eligible young men with their coats off and their feet up the lamp-post, sails slowly up and down Main Street till it is time to go in, take off the finery, and "fix up supper."

VOL. I.

4

CHAPTER IV.

LIFE AND DEATH IN THE FAR WEST.

THE boarding of a railway train at Coolidge, an attempted robbery, and an accomplished murder, have awakened the West out of a pleasing dream of security. These attacks upon railway trains are by no means of frequent occurrence, though when they happen they are talked of so much and for so long a time that they grow to be familiar. To stop and rob a train, is an exploit that obviously demands united force, well-ordered plans, and desperate courage. It is the Waterloo of the rowdy's campaign, which works its level way through the year by petty larceny, horsestealing, gaming, and an occasional shooting. In 1874 the Union Pacific Road was the scene of the first of these outrages, when the train bound East was boarded by seven men, who got clear off with £2000. A few years later this same Santa Fé line, on which Coolidge

stands, was the scene of an attempted robbery by a famous gang which takes its name from its leader, "Big Mike Rourke;" and only last year, the anniversary within a day of the Coolidge affair, the Santa Fé train was captured by four men, who compelled the express man to open the safe, and robbed it of its contents, which did not happen to exceed £1000.

The fame of Jesse James's exploits filled England at the time that they aroused the United States. They were marked by an audacity, a resource, and a ruthless barbarity which placed their leader on a pedestal where even now he is regarded through the West with a kind of sorrowful admiration. Jesse James was hanged, and his body now rests in the little front garden before his mother's house. His brother is in jail, the gang is broken up, and people had grown into the belief that they might go about their business along the great high-roads to the West with the assurance that they were in a civilized and law-abiding country. Then comes this affair at Coolidge, and all is excitement and apprehension. It was curious to note on leaving Kansas City this morning (October 4, 1883), the tearful groups bidding farewell to friends going out West. It is a far journey, and the average of accidents on a run of 634

miles must be taken into account. But over and above this is the new terror of the night journey, and the possibility of being wakened up by pistol shots and ruffianly demands for your portable property.

The scene of the murderous outrage of Saturday was admirably chosen. Coolidge is a small village, a few miles distant from the border line of Colorado and Kansas. There is a roadside station with a telegraph office, and a shed that passes for a refreshment bar. The village itself consists chiefly of a drinking saloon and a gaming house, neither held in favour by the police. The train reached Coolidge about one in the morning, and made a brief stoppage. The conductor was about to start it when he noticed a man climbing up behind the express car. He thought it was a tramp engaged in the not unfrequent enterprise of securing a free ride. He called out to him to come off, but the fellow pressed forward and entered the express car. This was in charge of a man named Peterson, who is the hero of the day wherever the story has reached. Peterson was lying on his back upon some sacks, and was just dropping off to sleep when he was awakened by the conductor's challenge of the supposed tramp. He looked up and saw by the dim light of the