My name is P.K. Pinkerton and before this day is over I will be dead.
I am trapped down the deepest shaft of a Comstock silver mine with three desperados closing in on me. Until they find me, I have my pencil & these ledger sheets and a couple of candles. If I write small & fast, I might be able to write an account of how I came to be here. Then whoever finds my body will know the unhappy events that led to my demise.
And they will also know who done it.
This is what I would like my tombstone to say:
Born in Hard Luck, September 26, 1850
Died in Virginia City, September 28, 1862
‘Ye are all one in Christ Jesus’ Galatians 3:28
My name is P.K. Pinkerton & I am a Private Eye operating out of Virginia City. At the moment I am in Jail in the shadow of a hangman's noose. It is all because I tried to solve the biggest mystery here in Nevada Territory and protect a girl who witnessed a terrible crime. If I write an account of what happened then maybe I can convince the jury not to hang me by the neck until I am dead.