I don’t have so many friends I can afford to drop one just because he tried to kill me.

Now came details of Goldby's adventures with the Cooks and their band. "Chicken, Dynamite Dick, The Verdigris Kid. I wish these fellows read something other than Ned Buntline's Own. Why haven't I heard of this Goldsby before this?

Without question, his picture did not do him justice, but again, he was dead when it was taken

These days, however, gentlemanly status seems to be more a question of appearance than conduct.

An execution carried out in secrecy is no better than lynching from a dry branch.

Cherokee's American, Ned. It don't get more American than that.

What did I think of him? I, who'd worked with him hand-in-glove longer than all the rest, and who knew him better than anyone -- including Mrs. Blackthorne? He was a first-class son of a bitch. But how many men have you known who were first in their class at anything?

As I write these words, it occurs to me that the story is in fact a timely one, in that it demonstrates the evils which a science left to itself may inflict upon an unsuspecting mankind