looked up the railroad
time-table in the daily paper. Half an hour later he removed his
coat and vest, and strapped a peculiarly constructed pistol holster
across his shoulders, leaving the receptacle close under his left
armpit. Into the holster he shoved a short-barrelled .44 calibre
revolver. Putting on his clothes again, he strolled to the station
and caught the five-twenty afternoon train for San Antonio.

The San Antonio _Express_ of the following morning contained this
sensational piece of news:

BENTON SHARP MEETS HIS MATCH

THE MOST NOTED DESPERADO IN SOUTHWEST TEXAS SHOT TO
DEATH IN THE GOLD FRONT RESTAURANT--PROMINENT STATE
OFFICIAL SUCCESSFULLY DEFENDS HIMSELF AGAINST THE
NOTED BULLY--MAGNIFICENT EXHIBITION OF QUICK GUN PLAY.

Last night about eleven o'clock Benton Sharp, with two
other men, entered the Gold Front Restaurant and seated
themselves at a table. Sharp had been drinking, and was
loud and boisterous, as he always was when under the
influence of liquor. Five minutes after the party was
seated a tall, well-dressed, elderly gentleman entered
the restaurant. Few present recognized the Honourable
Luke Standifer, the recently appointed Commissioner of
Insurance, Statistics, and History.

Going over to the same side where Sharp was, Mr.
Standifer prepared to take a seat at the next table. In
hanging his hat upon one of the hooks along the wall he
let it fall upon Sharp's head. Sharp turned, being in an
especially ugly humour, and cursed the other roundly.
Mr. Standifer apologized calmly for the accident, but
Sharp continued his vituperations. Mr. Standifer was
observed to draw near and speak a few sentences to the
desperado in so low a tone that no one else caught the
words. Sharp sprang up, wild with rage. In the meantime
Standifer had stepped some yards away, and was standing
quietly with his arms folded across the breast of his
loosely hanging coat.

With that impetuous and deadly rapidity that made Sharp
so dreaded, he reached for the gun he always carried in
his hip pocket--a movement that has preceded the death
of at least a dozen men at his hands. Quick as the motion
was, the bystanders assert that it was met by the most
beautiful exhibition of lightning gun-pulling ever
witnessed in the Southwest. As Sharp's pistol was being
raised--and the act was really quicker than the eye cou