warned that evening to be on my guard, but gave the matter little concern.  The next morning, Sunday, June 11, 1871, I went to my office as was my custom, to write my letters and attend to some other matters before going to church.  On leaving the office I was joined by a young friend, Mr. Virgil Conn.  As we proceeded down the street towards the post office I saw the brothers standing talking on the street.  One looked up and saw me, evidently spoke to his brother, and they then started toward me.  I saw at once that it was to be a fight and that I must defend myself.  Some said I could have avoided a meeting by turning in a different direction.  Probably I could, at least for a time, but I had started to the post office and there I intended to go.  As we approached the young men, one of them dropped behind, and as I passed the first one he dealt me a blow with a heavy cane.  At the same instant the other drew a pistol and fired, the bullet taking effect in my side and passing partly through.  Stunned by the blow on my cheek, I reeled and drawing my pistol fired point blank at the breast of the one who had shot me.  I was then between the men, and turning on the one with the cane, he threw up his hands, as if to say “I am unarmed.”  As I again turned he quickly drew his revolver and shot me in the back of the head, and followed it up with another shot which was aimed at the butt of my ear.  I felt the muzzle of the revolver pressed against my ear, and throwing up my head the bullet entered my neck and passed up through my mouth and tongue and lodged back of my left eye.  As I rushed at him he fired again, the bullet entering the point of my shoulder while another entered my body.  That was his last shot.

I was taken to my home in a blanket and few thought that I would live to reach it.  I was not, however, done for yet, and the next Thursday was out riding with one of my physicians.  The affair created the wildest excitement, a noted surgeon, Dr. Sharples, coming from Eugene City to attend me.  Throughout the Eastern States there was various comment by various publications, referring to the affair as “The Oregon Style.”  I refer to the matter here because of the many distorted and unfair stories that have appeared from time to time.  It is in no spirit of braggadocio, but simply to give the facts.  That I deplored the affair, and deeply, too, I freely confess, but only for the necessity which compelled me to defend my life.

On the following February 1 received an offer to take charge of the Salem Mercury.  Leaders of the party, among them three ex-Senators, the Governor of the State and many others prominent in the affairs of Oregon, purchased the paper and plant and tendered me a bill of sale for the same.  Ex-Senator Nesmith, ex-Senator Harding, Governor Grover, ex-Governor Whitaker, General Joseph Lane and many others urged me to the step.  They argued that I could unite all the factions of the party in support of a party paper at the capital of the State.  To a young man scarcely twenty-three this was a tempting and flattering offer.  I sold my paper, therefore, at Roseburg and with $4000 in money and good paper, and a bill of sale of an office costing $2500, started to Salem.  My success there as a newspaper man was all that could be desired.  A large circulation was rapidly built up, and a daily as well as weekly started.