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lows would do to him, and as he and I had been friends I didn't want to see him get hurt. It seemed funny while we were sitting there that he didn't make a break to get away, knowing that thirteen men who were looking for him were just inside the house and believing in his heart they meant to kill him. But he didn't make a move; didn't seem the least disturbed; just went on talking quietly.

"When the gang got through eating dinner, they walked out the front door and in a moment here they all came around the corner of the house, Charlie Bowdre in advance. Roberts rose in a leisurely sort of way from where he had been sitting in the door and stood facing them at a distance of not more than fifteen feet. As soon as Bowdre saw Roberts he cracked down on him with a six-shooter.

"'Throw up your hands, Roberts,' he said, 'or you're a dead man.'

"'Not much, Mary Ann,' replied Roberts, still as cool as you please; and he brought his rifle to a level at his hip.

"Bowdre and Roberts fired point-blank at each other and at the same time. Bowdre's bullet struck Roberts in the chest and went clear through him, giving him a death wound. Roberts' shot cut Bowdre's gun belt from around his waist so it fell to the ground, and Bowdre jumped back around the corner. The others opened fire now. But wounded to the death, Roberts did not retreat an inch. There were a dozen of the most desperate fighters in the Southwest blazing away at him at close range; but the little man only staggered up against the wall and went on pumping lead.

"He bored Middleton through the body just above the heart; Middleton stumbled around the corner and fell unconscious. Another bullet tore off George Coe's trigger