ide of his shirt bosom. Before he could draw, Walton pulled on him once. This much I saw and then dived under the table. There came another shot. Bud
, but his hand shook so that the bullets tore splinters in the boarding at either side of W
ff ran in. "You see, I've done
ver. Walton was shot through the forehead and
the surrender of Jeff's gun, which was given up
d three,
the other, his gaz
. He scratched his head. Thomas turned to the bar. His nostrils wer
drink,"
imself flat, and the Fashion filled with men. They grouped
rrest, Jeff," s
ur
emen, please. The inquest'll be to-morrow morning over in Bob Turne
rds three men bore the remains of Walton out of the Fashion and laid them in an empty roo
much jostling and frantic efforts at peering over the heads of neighbors; also, requests to witn
d was monkeying with his fingers on the table-sort of playing tunes. He, the bartender, was reading a letter from a lady who lived in Silver City-a right nice, respectable lady-when Bud came in on the jump. He yelled something at Jeff and they took to shooting.
e could not say how many. Then, when the sheriff came back, he saw B
it was the man whose body lay upstairs-and yelled at Thomas that he had got him now. Thomas was alone at a table in the center of the room. He was strumming with his
e to the sheriff in the Fashion. The message was th
quested the survivor for
ton appeared at the door. He pulled a gun on him. Bud got the first shot in-he was positive of that. He fired once and
Tom Rooker, too. Tom wouldn't never harm a fly in his life. Only the day before, Bud had told some men Jeff knew, that he would get T
id you expect h
perceptibly. "Yes
made
e might be coming. I'd ra
ere did Walt
said the
ut a Bible. The crowd craned their
mine," the
d when it was opened; but the leather binding was ripped and torn, and the leaves were plowed into pulp for three-fourths of its th
e did you get
er looked ra
"and when I seen that in your office the
the court-room and b
ve killed six
nly four," Thomas correct
, "this hits me like so plain a case of shooting in self-defense,
id. "Hold on, there; I'd
like this: "Gentlemen, this was
as turned on him a quick, startled glance. Then
hat I done s
ing laughter. "Order!" the coroner cried.
muttered, half aloud, as though not al
Take a look at it. It's a .45. Bud, he was killed with a 30-30 rifle. Here's the bullet. Je