went
thru his back close to the spine, and a third completely tore off his
left knee cap. Harry Parker slipped over the starboard side in order to
gain the lower deck, and a rifle bullet from the vicinity of the tug
Goldfinch, along the Everett Improvement Company Dock, ranged thru his
back from left to right, just as his friend, Walter Mulholland, also
wounded, pulled him in thru a hole torn in the canvas wind shield. An
abdominal wound laid Felix Baran low. The thud of bullets as they struck
the prostrate men added to the ghastly sound caused by the firing of
rifles and revolvers, the curses of the deputies and the moans of the
wounded men.

Following the first volley the deputies who had been out in the open
scuttled into the warehouses on either side. Thru their scattering ranks
the scabs on the tug Edison poured their rifle fire toward the men on
the Verona. Lieutenant C. O. Curtis pitched forward and fell dead upon
the dock--the victim of a rifle bullet. One of the fleeing deputies
paused behind the corner of the waiting room just long enough to
flinchingly reach out his hand and, keeping his head under cover,
emptied his revolver without taking aim. Deputy Sheriff Jefferson Beard
fell mortally wounded as he turned to run, and was dragged into the
warehouse by some of the less panic stricken murderers. Sheriff McRae,
with a couple of slight wounds in his left leg and heel, was forced to
his knees by the impact of bullets against the steel jacket which he
wore, remaining in a supplicating attitude for a few seconds while he
sobbed out in a quavering tone, "O-o-oh! I'm hit! I-I'm hit!! I-I-I'm
hit!!!"

Placed on board the Verona to serve the interests of the lumber trust,
what were the two Pinkerton operatives doing while the boat was landing
and just before the first heavy firing commenced? Their actions were
shrouded in mystery. But, as if anticipating something, one was seen
directly after the first shot scurrying into hiding where he lay
shivering until long after the firing had ceased. The other, while under
cover, was struck on the head by a glancing bullet. He became so enraged
at this lack of thoughtfulness on the part of his degenerate brothers
that he emptied his revolver at their backs as they broke for cover.
From a safe position on the dock, deputy H. D. Cooley, with a pair of
field glasses, was tremblingly trying to spy for the approach of the
Calista.

Inside the waiting room and the warehouses t