And the young California emigrant who was stabbed with a bowie knife by a drunken comrade: I saw the red life gush from his breast.

And the case of the rowdy young Hyde brothers and their harmless old uncle: one of them held the old man down with his knees on his breast while the other one tried repeatedly to kill him with an Allen revolver which wouldn't go off.

I happened along just then, of course.
Then there was the case of the young California emigrant who got drunk and proposed to raid the "Welshman's house" all alone one dark and threatening night.[11] This house stood half-way up Holliday's Hill ("Cardiff" Hill), and its sole occupants were a poor but quite respectable widow and her young and blameless daughter.

The invading ruffian woke the whole village with his ribald yells and coarse challenges and obscenities.

I went up there with a comrade--John Briggs, I think--to look and listen.