Middleton sent it," he said. When Streeks opened the package he found it contained one hundred dollars. That was a big price for the common horse of the range in those days.

That is the way Doc. Middleton did things. And while he was an outlaw according to the statutes, there were extenuating circumstances, and the civilians of the west generally assisted him in his efforts to keep out of the clutches of that tiresome tyrant called "law."

The killing of the soldiers was the result of a brawl. They had all been drinking together, and two of the soldiers imagined they were offended at something the doctor had said, or failed to say, as is the way with drunken men. They attacked him, and had him down on the bar-room floor, pummeling him in good order. He warned them to quit, but they kept at it, and he shot them both from where he lay. Had they been civilians, it would have been self-defense, but being Uncle Sam's soldiers, it became a crime. This was the final thing that made Doc. Middleton an outlaw, in the real sense of the word.

In those days -- the days of the Texas Trail -- Ogallala, Camp Clarke, Hartville. Sidney, Antelopeville (now Kimball) and Cheyenne were the regular cowtowns. Those were the halcyon days of the cow business. Big companies were being organized, and absorbing the ranches, and buying -- book value -- 'the local institutions.

Post sold out to the Arbuckles, and several were absorbed by the big Bay State Land and Cattle Company. The Swans had Scotch millions behind them. Big Alex Swan would buy ten thousand cattle, while the most of us were quibbling over the price.