ng place to ascertain the result. He carried no weapon.
Immediately he was set upon by five of the wing, to which he was
opposed--Bob Cushing, J. W. Bagley, and three others, all armed with either
knife or pistol--two of them with both. Casey did not know fear; he was
game from crown to toe. One ball grazed his forehead on the right side,
another the occiput just behind the left ear, and shot off his hat. His
shiney bald head made that a conspicuous mark, but the range was too
short and the shooters were too excited for accurate aim. Casey had been
taken by surprise, but the slight creasing of the bullets, abrading the
skin and stinging, instantly impelled him to rapid and desperate action.
He rushed upon one of his assailants and wrested a knife from his grasp.
With this he turned upon Cushing, plunged it in his body just above the
lower ribs, and as Cushing was sinking to the ground, he turned the
knife and cut upwards with such power as to cleave the rib the blade
struck against. One of the five had become so nerveless at the sight,
that he dropped his pistol. Casey leaped and secured it. He shot at
Barley and the ball penetrated his breast. As he fell, Casey likewise
secured his pistol. The two others were game, but confused and shot
wildly. The bullets went through Casey's coat and vest, riddling each in
a dozen places; but not one of them did so much as to graze his skin.
The third man had been paralyzed with fright after the first clash.
After emptying their revolvers ineffectually the two others left the
ground; Casey remained the master of it. Not for long, however. A
policeman who had watched the affray from a safe distance then rushed
up, arrested Casey, took him to the City prison, and booked him for
assault with a deadly, weapon. That evening I met Colonel Baillie
Peyton, Colonel Jo. P. Hoge, and Colonel Ed. Beale on Kearny street.
They had been told of the encounter, and expressed the desire to see
Casey to compliment him for his bravery, and congratulate him upon his
miraculous escape. Accordingly we visited the prison and saw Casey, with
his clothes shot to shreds from the left shoulder pit down to his waist,
and no wounds other than the slight creases upon his forehead and
occiput, neither of these so deep as to draw blood. All of us expressed
surprise that the policeman had arrested him--attacked and fighting for
his life in clear self-defence, as he had been--and letting his
assailants go free. Colonel