K.Y. got it over in Elko, on the west side a town at the end a the yards. Him ‘n Boxcar Jan was on the back of a lumber car ‘n K.Y. fell off. Fell right b’tween the cars. They was on that westbound mainline. Train run over K.Y.’s arm ‘n leg; cut ‘em clean off, like a pair a scissors cuttin’ through paper. Never come to. Went inta shock ‘n died. It’s a damn shame. Me ‘n K.Y. got along real good. He took up with Jan, ‘n the two of ‘em was always tagether. Ya’d hardly ever see one ‘thout the other. K.Y. kept a good eye on her. Was afraid she’d run off with some other tramp.

She’s travelin’ by herself now. She gits drunk ‘n raises all kinds a hell. I seen her over in Bend.  A guy was helpin’ her inta a boxcar ‘n he give a shove on her ass ‘n pushed her inside. I was lookin’ for a car myself, so I sez, “Hey Jan, mind if I ride along?” ‘N she got mean all of a sudden, ‘n tells me ta go find another car. Said she’s ridin’ alone. When she’s drunk, she kin be mean as hell, but catch her when she’s sober, ‘n she’s OK. Right after K.Y. died, Jan was over at the mission in Oroville, ‘n right b’fore dinner Jan stood up, n’ got ev’rybody quiet, ‘n gave a toast ta K.Y. Gave a toast to him right there in the mission.

92.