cked it off the floor an' was raisin' it when
another thunderin' shot almost tore thet arm off--so it seemed to me.
The gun dropped again an' he went down on his knees, kind of flounderin'
after it. It was some strange an' terrible to see his awful earnestness.
Why would such a man cling so to life? Anyway, he got the gun with left
hand an' was raisin' it, pullin' trigger in his madness, when the third
thunderin' shot hit his left arm, an' he dropped the gun again. But
thet left arm wasn't useless yet, fer he grabbed up the gun, an' with
a shakin' aim thet would hev been pitiful to me--in any other man--he
began to shoot. One wild bullet struck a man twenty feet from Lassiter.
An' it killed thet man, as I seen afterward. Then come a bunch of
thunderin' shots--nine I calkilated after, fer they come so quick I
couldn't count them--an' I knew Lassiter hed turned the black guns loose
on Dyer.

"I'm tellin' you straight, Miss Withersteen, fer I want you to know.
Afterward you'll git over it. I've seen some soul-rackin' scenes on this
Utah border, but this was the awfulest. I remember I closed my eyes, an'
fer a minute I thought of the strangest things, out of place there, such
as you'd never dream would come to mind. I saw the sage, an' runnin'
hosses--an' thet's the beautfulest sight to me--an' I saw dim things
in the dark, an' there was a kind of hummin' in my ears. An' I remember
distinctly--fer it was what made all these things whirl out of my mind
an' opened my eyes--I remember distinctly it was the smell of gunpowder.

"The court had about adjourned fer thet judge. He was on his knees, en'
he wasn't prayin'. He was gaspin' an' tryin' to press his big,
floppin', crippled hands over his body. Lassiter had sent all those last
thunderin' shots through his body. Thet was Lassiter's way.

"An' Lassiter spoke, en' if I ever forgit his words I'll never forgit
the sound of his voice.

"'Proselyter, I reckon you'd better call quick on thet God who reveals
Hisself to you on earth, because He won't be visitin' the place you're
goin' to!"

"An' then I seen Dyer look at his big, hangin' hands thet wasn't big
enough fer the last work he set them to. An' he looked up at Lassiter.
An' then he stared horrible at somethin' thet wasn't Lassiter, nor
anyone there, nor the room, nor the branches of purple sage peepin'
into the winder. Whatever he seen, it was with the look of a man who
discovers somethin' too late. Thet's a terrible lo