Volume 16 , Issue 36

1895, Cupid and Bill Doolin

On page 4 of The Wichita Daily Eagle, dated 17 July 1895, we find this article concerning "Cupid and Bill Doolin." It seems The Eagle's old friend, Bill Doolin, the outlaw, was in a peculiar predicament. Doily was going through a train, dividing up his wealth with through passengers and equalizing the circulating medium of his particular part of the country, he was overtaken by a dark blue piece of hard luck. Makes you wonder, doesn't it, what this piece of hard luck was, doesn't it?

Let's see if we can give a complete account of the situation at the exact moment to properly understand Doolin's trouble. One of Mr. Doolin's friends had a large, adult weapon pressed passionately against the bosom of the engineer; another companion had the fireman locked in the baggage car; another still was sitting on the African regent of the Pullman car. Rollin himself was superintending the conductor and brakeman, they accompanying him, directly in front, and in such a position, that, if murdered, they would fall comfortably at full length in the aisle.

At the time it was impossible for Bill Doolin to be harmed, so he thought. Every point of attack was covered. He felt as safe as he would have in his own deserted cabin in the dark wilderness of Payne county, Oklahoma. As Doolin passed up the aisle scratching the seams of the passengers' pockets for free gold, he suddenly looked into the blue of eyes of Miss Bailey, a school teacher. The black heart of the desperado boiled with some pertentious change. The blue eyes before him showered a spray of violet love-light upon him, and a small naked youngster, with curly hair and dimpled chin perched himself on top of the nearest seat and bent his bow.

It was at this moment the engineer was still in close communion with the muzzle of a revolver; the porter prostrate; the fireman imprisoned, and the conductor and brakeman harmless, but the unclothed youngster stood free and unguarded and with a twang he let the arrow fly that sank deep into the heart of Bill Doolin.

No more trains had been held up since then. Bill Doolin had not been heard from until he was discovered paying attentions to Miss Bailey, a school teacher near Purcell. She was reforming him, it is said. Discovered by the deputy marshals, both have fled. The affair proved what Doolin's friends had claimed . . . that Doolin was a better man than he showed himself to be. It also proved that love was a thing that does not ask a pedigree of lineage, a certificate of morality, or an exemption form future trouble.   |  View or Add Comments (0 Comments)   |   Receive updates ( subscribers)  |   Unsubscribe

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