was trying to skin under the table. He turned his head sideways
to keep from scratching his nose, and just then Les got into action. He
leaned on his left hand over the middle of the faro layout, put the
muzzle of his gun against the eye of the dealer as he was sliding down
and fired. As Les was doin' this Sam Tupper was busy, but Les had his
eye on the lookout, who dared not move his hand for fear Les would git
him first. As quick as Les made his play at the dealer, Sam reached for
a drawer about six inches from his hand and grabbed a pearl-handled,
silver-plated gun. As Les turned with uplifted arm, cocking his weapon,
Sam stepped to the edge of the drygoods box on which the lookout's chair
was placed, his weapon pointing straight at Les's heart. Before Les
could fire there was a flash--a report. The smoke from the pearl-handled
gun wreathed around Les's head as he turned convulsively, frantically
trying to get the muzzle of his pistol on a line with Sam, who stood
with the least perceptible smile waiting for the eye of his opponent to
catch his own, but as Les's body slowly swayed and pivoted the gambler
knew that in a moment more all would be over. The fingers which tightly
gripped the murderous firearm now slackened, gripped again, then the
pistol dropped to the floor; a body straightened up its full height, the
head thrown back in defiance and with eyes rolling upward, Les McAvoy
fell prone to the floor backwards. As he fell that man standing there
stepped off the box with the pearl-handled gun cocked for a second shot,
and hissed between those white teeth of his, 'You got it that time.' The
jury heard no evidence of any shots but Lillis' and the one Les
fired--no bullet was found from a Colt's navy, round ball. A conical
ball rested just beneath the skin in the small of the back. The jury
said, 'Justifiable homicide at the hands of Bert Lillis,' and I heard
that Lillis died the next day."

"And that is the man who did the deed?" asked Jack, as he gazed at a
real bad man; "one of those who make the history of every country black
with their infamous deeds, which they plan and then inveigle innocent
people to execute."

"Yes," said Cal, "and these redskins are not much to blame for goin' on
the warpath the way they are bamboozled about. The trouble is, them
cusses in Washington, who never see an Injun and who don't know what a
real live one is, pass laws and send commissioners and army officers and
agents out here