Some time in the fall of 1837, a drover (whose name I do not know) passing through the settlement, stopped for a short time at Mrs. Bastian’s house. At first sight, I supposed him to have _a large amount of money, and immediately determined to murder him_. For this purpose, before he could have time to pursue his journey, I hastened to the woods with an axe, and cut a large club, which I thought more suitable for the purpose, it being longer and more easily handled than the axe, and yet sufficiently large for the fatal execution. I then concealed myself close by the road he would pass, and not far from the scene of my last dread crime. I then waited, planning the manner of my attack. I expected he would be riding slowly and listlessly along, that I could spring upon him by surprise, knock him from his horse, and despatch him before he could make resistance. The drover was a large man and had an excellent horse. When I saw him coming, contrary to my expectation, he was riding rapidly, and consequently I could not have a good opportunity to aim a fatal blow. I then reflected that if I should miss him, or wound him slightly, he would be too strong for me, and I should be detected, and so I let him pass. But _I felt disappointed, and wished very much to kill him_, and if I thought I could have succeeded, would certainly have murdered him. I saw him afterwards pass through the settlement again, but I made no further attempt upon his life. Not long after the failure of my design against the drover, Michael Knipe, a blacksmith, was traveling from the Block-house towards Lycoming creek, and called at Mrs. Bastian’s. He had previously _incurred my ill-will_, and I felt some _revengeful feelings towards him_. I learned also that he had _some money_. I then _determined to murder him, with the double motive of wreaking my vengeance and getting his money_. For this purpose I proposed accompanying him on his way. We traveled amicably together until we came to the Six Mile Spring. There _pretending_ that I was tired, and needed a staff to walk with, I went into the woods and cut a club, with which, at a proper place, I intended to despatch my fellow-traveler. But as we traveled on, still conversing amicably together, my murderous feelings began to subside a little, and I became more irresolute, until having passed the most appropriate places for so dark a deed, I finally gave over murdering him; and so we traveled, as far as I went with him, without any thing actually occurring to show that we were not the best friends.