"It was almost 8 o'clock and 'Nigger's' was jammed. There was a big crowd at the table near the end of the bar. I sat at a table parallel to it, the big red hot stove making the apex of a triangle about the same distance as the tables were apart. The deal which old Colonel Crumpy was making came to an end. I was winner and thumbing my chips, when bang went a gun at the other table. Say, but did you ever see two hundred and fifty crazy, desperate men push and crowd out of gun play range? Well, there was lots of tenderfeet in that gang. They jumped onto the 'mustang' table and then to the hazard table and into the crowd, pell-mell, out of windows. One feller was so scar't he never stopped to open it, but went kersmash through glass and all. Durin' this I backed away keerful like to the wall between two windows. I knew if any of 'em started to run it would be in the middle of the room and I didn't feel like risking my back to that crowd. My gun hung handy in case of a free get-away, or die a doin' it. As I felt the cold green boards rub my spine I seen the rest of the show. It don't take a man a lifetime to move when guns are speakin'. "It seems a kid, with sickly taller-like face and pinched cheeks, a young feller from the States lookin' for a gold mine, who got broke and nothing to do but clean spit-kits in 'Nigger's' and tend bar, had been exercised a little with the cards, dealing faro, and they put him on watch with a big Colt's old-fashioned navy on his lap, all cocked and ready for business, with instructions that if Les did any more funny work to plug him. Les had bet his stack as high as he could pile 'em and lost, grabbed the extra chips, and to the dealer's 'You--put them chips back,' Les slid up the back of his chair. He was keepin' cases and had his back to me, reachin' fer his gun. He had on a pair of blue overalls, and the hammer of that six-shooter got caught in the corner of his pocket. I seen him tuggin' to get it out, and the dealer, whose name was Bert Lillis, had lifted the big cannon, the muzzle half way across the table, and with both hands pulled the trigger, got scared, dropped the gun and was trying to skin under the table. He turned his head sideways to keep from scratching his nose, and just then Les got into action. He leaned on his left hand over the middle of the faro layout, put the muzzle of his gun against the eye of the dealer as he was sliding down and fired. As Les was doin' this Sam Tupper was busy, but Les had his eye on the lookout, who dared not move his hand for fear Les would git him first. As quick as Les made his play at the dealer, Sam reached for a drawer about six inches from his hand and grabbed a pearl-handled, silver-plated gun. As Les turned with uplifted arm, cocking his weapon, Sam stepped to the edge of the drygoods box on which the lookout's chair was placed, his weapon pointing straight at Les's heart. Before Les could fire there was a flash--a report. The smoke from the pearl-handled