Death comes quickly to one in sickness or to one who gets injured here.  They lose their identity and surroundings.  We prepared to bury JAMES late in the afternoon.  Just five of us carried him all the way to the grave.  A Cornish miner had an extra suit of clothes which he loaned me for the funeral as I had no extra suit for that occasion.  After we filled the grave up I spoke to Mr. REES, the man from Scranton, Pennsylvania, who had made the mistake in pushing the truck into the open shaft, causing the accident to JAMES.  I told him to come with me to my cabin.

I looked for JAMES' money and his belongings there.  We searched the cabin in one corner.  We found the cobble stone and right behind it in a hole we found his leather pocketbook with nearly two hundred dollars in it.  Then we looked through his clothes and then searched his satchel or carpetbag.  In it we found a half-written letter to a friend in Joplin, Missouri.  We also found the photograph of a young woman on a card.  We also found a slip of paper with a name and an address on it.  Betsy JAMES, 127 Wellington St., Glamorganshire, S. Wales.  I wrote to that address the William JAMES was seriously hurt.  A few months later I received a reply from Mrs. JAMES stating that she had a son in America somewhere.

I wrote her again that William JAMES had died and was buried in Leadville and that I had some money belonging to JAMES and I would like to send it to his relatives and could she send me references that she had a son.  I enclosed the young woman's photograph in the letter.  After some waiting I received a letter informing me that she had a son here and the photo of the young woman was also verified.  As there was some little expense from the funeral which I paid and what was left I took to the bank at Leadville and received a draft from them for twenty-seven pounds and ten shillings.  This amount I sent to his mother.  Later on another letter came from her thanking me for the money sent and stating that her son had some money in a bank and could it be found out some way? Having no papers or other information, I could not find out whether he had or not.  At least there were no papers to that effect in his valise.

As I was walking the street one day in Leadville, I heard a voice say, "Hello, FRANCIS."  I looked back to see who it was and found that it came from my first partner, Frank BRISBANE, who left me back in the mountains six months ago.  He said he was bookkeeper for the Clareton Hotel and was getting along all right.  He persuaded me to come to a show with him that night, that it would not cost us anything.  My work at the shaft commenced at 11 o'clock p. m., so I thought I could go and see the show.  BRISBANE told me the play was "Rip Van Winkle".  I was not in the habit of going to shows.  I noticed as we went in we passed the doorkeeper with a nod, then we ascended a flight of stairs.  When we landed on the second floor there was a drinking bar.  The most kind of drinks was champagne.  BRISBANE led the way to a row of private boxes.  We selected one and both sat down.  I noticed that there were two rows of private boxes curtained all around on each side.  The opening could be in front to look down on the stage.  Boxes on the opposite side were all occupied by men and girls drinking.  The floor below was crowded with rough miners.

The music started with piano, violin, and cornet.  I was fond of music and I listened to the strains of music.  My partner, BRISBANE, said to me, "I am going downstairs for a while," and I said to him, "All right, will wait." As I listened intently to the music, a woman's voice said, "Don't you want company?" I noticed she was very young and was dressed as if she was a stage girl.  I said to her, "I have a partner," and she withdrew.  The play was now beginning.  I was getting interested in the acting.  There were no dull minutes.  When an actress pleased the audience there was a shower of gold pieces thrown to her and at her feet.  This would cause her to come back for an encore and to pick up all the pieces of gold.  Many of these gold pieces were ten dollars and twenty dollars.  Such men as Travor HILL would throw the money around by the thousands of dollars when they were pleased with the play.