[Illustration: Death of Jack Strawhan.] The day of fate arrived in 1869, and under the following circumstances: Wild Bill was in Tommy Drum’s saloon, in company with a crowd of drinking characters, indulging, as was his wont, when Strawhan entered by a side door. Bill’s eyes were always on the lookout for danger, and they caught Jack the moment he stepped upon the threshold. Bill made a pretence of not noticing his bitter enemy, but quietly grasped his pistol and kept talking, unconcernedly, as before. Strawhan thought his opportunity had come, and that Bill was off his guard, but the moment Strawhan attempted to level his pistol, Bill wheeled and shot him dead, the ball from his weapon entering Strawhan’s right eye, felling him without a groan. Bill then turned back to the counter of the bar, and asked everybody in the saloon to take a drink, never giving the slightest heed to the body of the man which lay on the floor dead, with his face smothered in a pool of blood. Everyone drank. The coroner was sent for and the crowd gave their testimony. Bill was acquitted the same day, and serenaded by the authorities at night. Whitney escaped death at Strawhan’s hands, but was killed by a Texan named Ben Thompson, in 1873. BILL MULVEY’S LAST ROW. Shortly after the event just related, Bill Mulvey, a notorious rough and desperado from St. Joseph, Mo., struck Hays City, and got on what we term in the West, “a great big tear.” He paraded the streets with a revolver in each hand, howling like an enraged tiger, and thirsting for some one’s blood. He was met by the squire and constable, both of whom endeavored to make him keep the peace, but their efforts were so far futile that he turned upon them and drove both out of the town. Wild Bill, who chanced to be in a saloon in another part of the place, where he was unconscious of the disturbance, was notified, and at once started to arrest Mulvey. Approaching his man quietly, in a most amiable tone he told Mulvey that he should have to arrest him for disturbing the peace. Mulvey had his pistols in his hands at the time, and in an instant they were leveled at Wild Bill’s head, with the injunction, “March before me.” Bill fully appreciated the danger of his position, but his remarkable self-possession and coolness never deserted him. Before turning to march in front of Mulvey, Bill raised his left hand, and with a look of dissatisfaction, said: “Boys, don’t hit him.” This remark had the desired effect, for as Bill had not shown his pistol, Mulvey turned to see who Bill had spoken to, and to protect his rear. In the twinkle of an eye, Bill whipped out his pistol and shot Mulvey dead, the ball entering the victim’s head just behind the ear. The West was thus relieved of another desperate character, and Wild Bill received a vote of thanks from the citizens for his conduct. A FIGHT WITH FIFTEEN SOLDIERS.