e. It looks
as big to him as the Mississippi River. That's just the way with the
passenger. He thinks there are a hundred men yelling and shooting
outside, when maybe there are only two or three. And the muzzle of a
forty-five looks like the entrance to a tunnel. The passenger is all
right, although he may do mean little tricks, like hiding a wad of
money in his shoe and forgetting to dig-up until you jostle his ribs
some with the end of your six-shooter; but there's no harm in him.

As to the train crew, we never had any more trouble with them than
if they had been so many sheep. I don't mean that they are cowards;
I mean that they have got sense. They know they're not up against a
bluff. It's the same way with the officers. I've seen secret service
men, marshals, and railroad detectives fork over their change as meek
as Moses. I saw one of the bravest marshals I ever knew hide his gun
under his seat and dig up along with the rest while I was taking toll.
He wasn't afraid; he simply knew that we had the drop on the whole
outfit. Besides, many of those officers have families and they feel
that they oughtn't to take chances; whereas death has no terrors for
the man who holds up a train. He expects to get killed some day,
and he generally does. My advice to you, if you should ever be in a
hold-up, is to line up with the cowards and save your bravery for an
occasion when it may be of some benefit to you. Another reason why
officers are backward about mixing things with a train robber is a
financial one. Every time there is a scrimmage and somebody gets
killed, the officers lose money. If the train robber gets away they
swear out a warrant against John Doe et al. and travel hundreds of
miles and sign vouchers for thousands on the trail of the fugitives,
and the Government foots the bills. So, with them, it is a question of
mileage rather than courage.

I will give one instance to support my statement that the surprise is
the best card in playing for a hold-up.

Along in '92 the Daltons were cutting out a hot trail for the officers
down in the Cherokee Nation, Those were their lucky days, and they got
so reckless and sandy, that they used to announce before hand what
job they were going to undertake. Once they gave it out that they
were going to hold up the M. K. & T. flyer on a certain night at the
station of Pryor Creek, in Indian Territory.

That night the railroad company got fifteen deputy marshals in
Muscogee and