ly for amusement. A friend of
the author, a New Mexican sheriff who happened to be in San Antonio, saw
and talked with both men that afternoon. They were both quiet and sober
then.

Simms' heart was in his mouth, but he made up his mind to die game, if
he had to die. Slowly he walked up the stairway. Such was Thompson's
vigilance, that he quickly arose and advanced toward Simms, who stood at
the top of the stairs petrified and unable to move a muscle. Before
Simms could think, his partner, Foster, appeared on the scene, and as he
stood up, Thompson saw him and walked toward him and said: "Hello,
Foster, how are you?" Slowly and deliberately Foster spoke: "Ben, this
world is not big enough for us both. You killed poor Jack Harris like a
dog, and you didn't as much as give him a chance for his life. You and I
can never be friends any more." Quick as a flash and with a face like a
demon, Thompson drew his pistol and jammed it into Foster's mouth,
cruelly tearing his lips and sending him reeling backward. While this
was going on, Simms had retreated to the next step, and there drew his
pistol, not having his shotgun in hand then. He stepped forward as he
saw Foster reel from the blow Thompson gave him, and with sudden courage
opened fire. His first shot must have taken effect, and perhaps it
decided the conflict. Thompson's gun did not get into action. Simms kept
on firing. Thompson reeled back against King Fisher, and the two were
unable to fire. Meantime the big Mexican, Coy, showed up from somewhere,
just as Foster had. Both Foster and Coy rushed in front of the line of
fire of Simms' pistol; and then without doubt, Simms killed his own
friend and preserver. Foster got his death wound in such position that
Simms admitted he must have shot him. None the less Foster ran into
Thompson as the latter reeled backwards upon Fisher, and, with the fury
of a tiger, shoved his own pistol barrel into Thompson's mouth in turn,
and fired twice, completing the work Simms had begun. The giant Coy
hurled his bulk into the struggling mass now crowded into the corner of
the room, and some say he held Ben Thompson's arms, though in the melee
it was hard to tell what happened. He called out to Simms, "Don't mind
me," meaning that Simms should keep on firing. "Kill the ---- of ----!"
he cried. Coy no doubt was a factor in saving Simms' life, for one or
the other of these two worst men in the Southwest would have got a man
before he fell, had