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Later, it would be said that when Dutch Miller buried his wife that cold September day, a big piece of him went in the ground with her, that his life was colored forever dark by her passing. Of course, no one really knew what happened in the days after the funeral when he left town after selling everything he had - just a whole lot of barroom gossip and wild speculation.Some said he went up into the Bitterroots east of Missoula up past the snowline somewhere, took his favorite 30:30 rifle and blew his brains out, leaving what was left to the critters and predators that lived there. Red meat, or any meat for that matter, went fast on the ground north of the Salmon River.Others said the Mounties shot him up in Canada after he had robbed Assay offices in the gold fields. That would have been one hell of an ending for Dutch Miller, a fitting sunset for the grieving widower. As stories go, those two were good ones. Too bad they weren't even close. Fate had other things in store for Dutch Miller.
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