A brief journal entry today as my arm and now my hand have been wounded. I will quickly mention that I was, once again, the victim of the bandit running loose in the hills. He stumbled out of the office to have your gold weighed and compensated for after screaming profanities to Mr. Earl. Upon turning to myself and others gathered outside, we at once recognized him. I offered him the chance to leave peacefully but as I started to aim with my sore shoulder...he opened fire and a bullet nicked my hand. Luckily, Miss Fran was able to patch me up. I might also mention two other gentlemen fell victim to this lunatic's violent ways. One, a stranger whom I didn't get his name, and another.....the gentlemen from the other day that left his poncho in the Cricket.
When will some proper folks come to town to administer law and order? That seems to be the question on most womenfolk's minds. I hope soon. On a happier note...I ran into Mr. Starsmith again today. He is on the mend from his injuries and rest assured me that the little German boy was safe too. He offered me a job as a cook at his establishment named "The Bottom's Up Saloon." Indeed it is a questionable name for an establishment and I will have to deal with drunken miners and ruffians but it is a job nonetheless...an honest living. I will have to bide my time until more families come westward and settle and they will be in need of a school. I also have Mr. Starsmith's glorious piano to play in the meantime. I also ran into my friend Mr. O'Connel again...he is mending from his wounds too and ever the rebel I know him to be. Gallivanting around town in civilian garb. I laughingly expressed to him that if the Colonel caught him, he would be facing the whip. He has a restless spirit that man....his new bride must have her hands full with him. He has become a dear friend just the same and seems to be looking out for my safety.
The town is starting to get busier than ever with more newcomers and with more new faces come also those who bid ill will towards the good, kind folks. I pray for my friends' safety and for that of my own. These are dangerous times here in the camp. I must end now , for my hand is in need of much rest. ~A.C. Abbot~
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