I was deputy United States marshal at the time, and at the next meeting of the council I presented a telegram from the United States marshal of New Mexico, stating that Studemeier had accepted an appointment as his deputy, thereby vacating the office of city marshal, and the city council declared it vacant. An alderman immediately nominated Studemeier to succeed himself, and Alderman Hague nominated the writer of these pages. The vote stood four and four, and then the mayor, to the surprise of many, gave the casting vote to Studemeier! One night, soon after the above occurrences, I went to a public meeting at the old Central hotel, and in the hall, in the presence of many people, Studemeier accosted and cursed and threatened to kill me, and called on me to defend myself. I was unarmed, and so informed him. He then produced two pistols, and generously offered to loan me one, but I had seen that trick played before, and I told him that as he and I were not good friends I did not feel like accepting a favor from him, and he went away. I went home and armed myself and returned to the meeting and met Studemeier, but nothing more was said or done. This was the last time, so far as I know, when I have been in any great peril from my fellow men—unless from their tongues. There are probably as many Davids as Goliaths, and this desperado was about to meet his David—and his death. Dr. Manning was small of stature, modest in deportment, devoted to his family and his profession, and as to fighting, his disposition is well described in the words of the old negro, “Mammy,” in speaking of her old master. She said, “Colonel Purdue want no man to go about hunting for no fuss, but if anybody brought a fuss to him and laid it in his lap, he would nuss it and coddle it and try to keep it from ketchen cold.” Studemeier gathered his few followers about him and announced that he was going to meet the Mannings and make peace or “have it out.” The meeting was at the old stand, Uncle Ben. Dowell’s saloon. A peace was patched up, and of course some drinks were taken, and then all left except the marshal and Dr. Manning. Suddenly Studemeier found some pretext for anger, and, drawing his pistol, suddenly fired at Manning’s heart. The bullet missed its mark but wounded the doctor in one hand (the other hand had been crippled in a former fight), yet the little man grappled the large one with one hand and with the other drew his pistol, and in an instant the giant lay dying on the ground! This shall be my last story of bloodshed. I was foreman of the jury which tried Dr. Manning, and he was rendered a verdict of not guilty without leaving the box. [Illustration] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ LONGMEIER—A CLOSE CALL.