e than natural that the Earps should keep a sharp lookout
when the locomotive stopped at the station.

Their vigilance was rewarded. Stilwell came slipping through the
shadows just as the train was pulling out. The passengers in the
Pullman were startled by a crackling of revolver shots from the rear
platform. Directly afterward the Earps came back inside and took their
seats. And Tucson was given something to talk about that evening by
the discovery of Frank Stilwell's body riddled with bullets beside the
track.

The Earp party held council in the Pullman and determined to return to
Tombstone. Leaving Virgil to complete the journey with Morgan's body,
the other two brothers and Doc Holliday left the train at a way
station and flagged a freight which took them back to Benson. Here
they procured horses and rode to the county seat.

Sheriff Johnny Behan received telegraphic advices from Tucson to
arrest them. He found the trio sometime in the afternoon. They had got
their effects together and sent them ahead on a wagon. They were
themselves on horseback, about to set forth for Colorado.

Wyatt glanced down upon the sheriff as the latter came up.

"Listen," he said. "Don't you even look as if you wanted to arrest
us."

And with that the three rode down the main street. They passed the
saloons and gambling-houses, and men came flocking to the doors to see
them go by.

At the running walk the horses came on, three abreast; the faces of
the riders were set; their eyes swept the crowds on the sidewalks.
They went on by. They turned the corner into the road that leads to
the Dragoons. That was the last that Tombstone ever saw of them.

They stopped at Pete Spence's ranch, where the half-breed was working
who had been with Frank Stilwell on the evening of Morgan's murder,
and a cow-boy found the man's body the next morning.

They rode across wide flats and through great dark mountain ranges,
eastward and to the north, until they came into Colorado.

After the departure of these bold men outlawry took on a new lease of
life in southeastern Arizona. Cattle-rustling, stage-robbery, and
murder went on throughout Cochise County. And at last the people found
a strong man, to whom the law stood for something more than a means of
personal power. They chose for sheriff John Slaughter, who had been
waging war for years on his own account against Apaches and bad men.
But the story of how he brought the enforcement of the statut