Uncle Billy was that he went north as an escort to some party and died
there. Uncle Billy was a gambler all his life but not a drinker. His
heart, his hand and his pocket were ever open and ready to respond to
the relief of the distress of others. The writing of the above calls to
mind another meeting with Uncle Billy of which I had lost sight, the
date of which I cannot fix. I think it was in the first half of '60 I
met him on the street in San Francisco and our meeting was most cordial.
We had a very pleasant street visit and he said to me, "Woolley, I am
going home, I shall take the next steamer for New York." I said to him,
"How are you fixed, Uncle Billy?" He said, "I have eleven thousand
dollars and I am going home." I congratulated him for his courage and
good luck and wished him a pleasant voyage and a happy reunion with his
old friends. About a week later I met Uncle Billy on the street again
and said to him, "How is this Uncle Billy, I thought you were going home
on the last steamer?"

"Yes," said he, "I thought so too; at the same time, I thought I would
just step into a faro bank and win just enough to pay my passage home so
that I would have even money when I got home. But instead of that I lost
every dollar I had and I am going back into the mountains again. My
readers know the rest."

My friends this is only one of thousands who had the same experience.

In 1868 "the girl I left behind me" went East on a visit of six months,
taking with her our two children.

In the fall of that year (1868) I went to White Pine in Nevada. It was a
very cold trip for me and I came home in June "thawed out," sold out my
grocery business and went into the produce commission business and