for shooting Sheriff Clark, etc. Now Houston offered me parole, or amnesty or whatever
after
this shooting. As you know there were no real witnesses of any murder on my part after that incident. But the fact is that the Clark shooting took place during the Lincoln County war—when EVERYBODY was shooting. I mean no one brought charges against those who shot McSween or Tunstall. Now Houston when he spoke to me admitted that, while he couldn’t condone what was done during those three days, he understood that both sides were guilty, and like a state of war there was no criminal punishment that could be genuinely brought against me without bringing it against everyone connected with that war. Two wrongs make a right, right? Now they find that because they cannot charge me with anything else that’ll stick they charge me for something that happened during a war. A fact that your Governor Houston realises and I’m sure privately admits and still won’t do anything about.
I: Why do you suppose he doesn’t do anything to pardon you now?
B: (Snorting) Well I suppose he’s been wished into thinking that I’ve been pretty nasty since. But the point is that there is no legal proof to all this later stuff. The evidence used was unconstitutional.
SLIP ME A GUN
I: Do you have a lawyer, I mean working on an appeal now?
B: Slip me a gun and I will have— don’t print that.
I: Mr. Bonney, or may I call you Billy …
B: No.
I: Mr. Bonney, do you believe in God?
B: No.
I: Why not, and for how long haven’t you?
I PRAYED EVERY DAY
B : Well I did for a long time, I mean in a superstitious way, same way I believe in luck for instance. I couldn’t take the risk you see. Like never wearing anything yellow. So before big fights, or even the most minor as well as the really easy ones. I used to cross myself and say, “God please don’t let me die today.” I did this fast though so no one would see me, see what I was doing. I did this pretty well every day from the age of 12 till I was 18. When I was 18, I had a shooting match with Tom O’Folliard, the prize was a horse. Now it was with rifles and Tom is excellent with them and I wanted that horse very much. I prayed everyday. Then I lost the bet with Tom. I: Do you worry about what will happen after death now you don’t believe in God?
B: Well I try to avoid it. Though I suppose not. I guess they’ll just put you in a box and you will stay there forever. There’ll be nothing else. The only thing I wish is that I could hear what people say afterwards. I’d really like that. You know, I’d like to be invisible watching what happens to people when I am not around. I suppose you think that’s simple minded.
I: Are you happy, or at least were you happy? Did you have any reason for going on living, or were you just experimenting?
ABOUT TO GET MARRIED?
B: I don’t know whether I’m happy or not. But in the end that is all that’s important—t hat you keep testing yourself, as you say— experimenting on how good you are, and you can’t do that when you want to lose.
I: Is that all you looked forward to?
B: Yes I suppose so.
I: Is it true that you were going to get married and move east when you were arrested?
B: As I say I don’t want to cause trouble, and though I’m not saying about the first part of the question, I
had
intended to leave the area cos people kept coming up to me and saying I was going to get it for what I had done to their friends. Bob Ollinger who’s worked his way into being my jailer. He had a close friend who was killed in the Lincoln County war.
I: Who do you consider your friends now, now that Bowdre and O’Folliard are dead?
B: Well I have some. Dave Rudabaugh wherever he is. I guess he’s locked up too somewhere. They won’t tell me. A couple of guys here and there. A couple of ladies.
I: Garrett?
B: Well Pat’s right now a…. head. We used to be friends as you probably know. He’s got senile. He’s getting a lot of money for
after
this shooting. As you know there were no real witnesses of any murder on my part after that incident. But the fact is that the Clark shooting took place during the Lincoln County war—when EVERYBODY was shooting. I mean no one brought charges against those who shot McSween or Tunstall. Now Houston when he spoke to me admitted that, while he couldn’t condone what was done during those three days, he understood that both sides were guilty, and like a state of war there was no criminal punishment that could be genuinely brought against me without bringing it against everyone connected with that war. Two wrongs make a right, right? Now they find that because they cannot charge me with anything else that’ll stick they charge me for something that happened during a war. A fact that your Governor Houston realises and I’m sure privately admits and still won’t do anything about.
I: Why do you suppose he doesn’t do anything to pardon you now?
B: (Snorting) Well I suppose he’s been wished into thinking that I’ve been pretty nasty since. But the point is that there is no legal proof to all this later stuff. The evidence used was unconstitutional.
SLIP ME A GUN
I: Do you have a lawyer, I mean working on an appeal now?
B: Slip me a gun and I will have— don’t print that.
I: Mr. Bonney, or may I call you Billy …
B: No.
I: Mr. Bonney, do you believe in God?
B: No.
I: Why not, and for how long haven’t you?
I PRAYED EVERY DAY
B : Well I did for a long time, I mean in a superstitious way, same way I believe in luck for instance. I couldn’t take the risk you see. Like never wearing anything yellow. So before big fights, or even the most minor as well as the really easy ones. I used to cross myself and say, “God please don’t let me die today.” I did this fast though so no one would see me, see what I was doing. I did this pretty well every day from the age of 12 till I was 18. When I was 18, I had a shooting match with Tom O’Folliard, the prize was a horse. Now it was with rifles and Tom is excellent with them and I wanted that horse very much. I prayed everyday. Then I lost the bet with Tom. I: Do you worry about what will happen after death now you don’t believe in God?
B: Well I try to avoid it. Though I suppose not. I guess they’ll just put you in a box and you will stay there forever. There’ll be nothing else. The only thing I wish is that I could hear what people say afterwards. I’d really like that. You know, I’d like to be invisible watching what happens to people when I am not around. I suppose you think that’s simple minded.
I: Are you happy, or at least were you happy? Did you have any reason for going on living, or were you just experimenting?
ABOUT TO GET MARRIED?
B: I don’t know whether I’m happy or not. But in the end that is all that’s important—t hat you keep testing yourself, as you say— experimenting on how good you are, and you can’t do that when you want to lose.
I: Is that all you looked forward to?
B: Yes I suppose so.
I: Is it true that you were going to get married and move east when you were arrested?
B: As I say I don’t want to cause trouble, and though I’m not saying about the first part of the question, I
had
intended to leave the area cos people kept coming up to me and saying I was going to get it for what I had done to their friends. Bob Ollinger who’s worked his way into being my jailer. He had a close friend who was killed in the Lincoln County war.
I: Who do you consider your friends now, now that Bowdre and O’Folliard are dead?
B: Well I have some. Dave Rudabaugh wherever he is. I guess he’s locked up too somewhere. They won’t tell me. A couple of guys here and there. A couple of ladies.
I: Garrett?
B: Well Pat’s right now a…. head. We used to be friends as you probably know. He’s got senile. He’s getting a lot of money for
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