On Pistol Billy's Trout Stream 



Mr. Otis Francis, somewhere in Wyoming, has 

 sent me this funny one. There are some things that 

 will interrupt one's fishing, even if fast to a sixteen- 

 inch trout. Here is such a case. I believe Mr. Fran- 

 cis* haste was not only pardonable but commend- 

 able. It reminds me of the old darky who when 

 asked if he had stood his ground in his first battle, 

 replied : " No, sah, I runs. I runs at de fust shot 

 and I would 'a' run sooner had I known it was a 



In our city of Casper, Wyoming, every sportsman 

 knows Pistol Billy, who has a ranch some six miles 

 out of town with the closest and also a very fair trout 

 stream running right out of the Casper mountains 

 through his place. The name Pistol Billy came to him 

 some years ago when he took a dislike to all fisher- 

 men, who when found on his land were run off at 

 the point of Billy's pistol. And there are few trout 

 men in Casper who cannot minutely describe Bill's 

 pistol and, furthermore, who will say that he would 

 not use it. 



On one lazy warm July day I started for Pistol 

 Billy's place with twenty-five feet of silk line in the 

 band of my hat and a half dozen Royal Coachmen in 



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