s white; so white
that his drooping mustache seemed dark in contrast. His eyes gleamed
like ice when the sun is shining on it. He had the look of a man who
has put his life behind him; a man who is waiting for just one thing
before he dies--to select the ones whom he will take with him.

The cries behind redoubled, and the crowding increased in the rear.
Some leaped on the backs of those before them. But the men in the
front ranks--some of them were bold men and deadly--withstood the
pressure. They held their eyes on that grim, white face, or watched
the two muzzles of that shotgun which he swept back and forth across
their gaze with hypnotic effect.

It was a fine, large moment. Any one of them could have got him at the
first shot. There was no chance of missing. And scores yearned to get
him. Undoubtedly he had attained that pitch where he yearned for them
to do it. And being thus to all intents a dead man,--save only that he
retained the faculty of killing,--he was mightier than all of them.

Those in the front ranks were beginning to slip back; and as these
escaped his presence the others, who had become exposed to it,
struggled against the pressure of their fellows who would keep them in
that position. Some of the cooler spirits were stealing away. The
contagion of indifference spread. The mob was melting.

In the meantime one or two members of the Earp faction had procured a
team and wagon. As soon as the lynchers had dispersed they stowed the
prisoner in the vehicle, and set out for Tucson with a heavy guard.
But there was no pursuit. The reaction which follows perfervid
enthusiasm of this sort had settled down upon the miners and cow-boys.
Johnny Behind the Deuce was tried before the district court, and--as
was to be expected--he was acquitted.

Time went on and dissensions came among the followers of the Earp
brothers. Curly Bill and John Ringo were among the first to fall out
with the leaders, and they took the path of previous exiles to
Charleston. But the country by the San Pedro was being settled up, and
not long afterward they emigrated to Galeyville over in the San Simon
valley. Thenceforth this little smelter town became the metropolis of
the outlaws. Ringo spent most of his time here with occasional trips
to Tombstone, where, on more than one occasion, he dared the Earps to
try to take him. They did not accept his challenges. Finally he died
by his own hand and his friend Curly Bill left the countr