Billy the Kid, of whom I made mention before, was a noted desperado, but of quite a different stamp. He never fought fair like Thompson, and never gave the other man a ghost of a show if he could help it. He was a half-breed Indian, or at least had Indian blood in him. When he was finally killed, it was proved that he had killed more than one man for every year he had lived. He is supposed to have originated, or at least brought to perfection, the art of whirling a gun and shooting. On two occasions when arrested, he pulled out his gun and handed it butt first to the sheriff, holding it by the barrel with the butt up and with his first finger in the trigger guard. As the sheriff on each occasion reached for the gun, the Kid would whirl it on his finger, and, as the butt reached his palm, shoot. Finally, as I said before, Sheriff Pat Garrett (a product of Uvalde) and Kipp Kinney went after him. They found out a Mexican girl whom the Kid used to visit, and lay in wait for him there after tying and gagging her. Garrett stayed in the house behind a sofa, and Kipp was to stay outside to see that the Kid did not get to his horse again after the shooting commenced. The Kid rode up when night fell and walked into the house; but, like all hunted animals, his suspicions were easily aroused, for he had hardly entered the dark room when he drew his pistol and asked who was there. As he called out, Garrett rose from behind the sofa, and, sighting the Kid against the light of the doorway, fired twice, killing him instantly. This was not showing much sporting spirit in Garrett, but the man was a murderer of the worst type, killing men just for the sport of it. While I am on the subject of bad-men, I may tell a story of Luke Short, another of that ilk. Luke had been arrested by two deputies, who were taking him to the county seat, handcuffed, in a buggy. They stopped at a wayside saloon to get some refreshment, and, for security, left Luke handcuffed to the buggy wheel. While they were inside taking a drink or two, the door opened and in walked Luke Short with the wheel of the buggy to which he was still handcuffed. He went up to the barkeeper and said, "Colonel, these two snakes left me out there to die of thirst. I haven’t any money in my pocket with which to pay, but how many drinks will you give me on this?" and he slapped the wheel down on the bar. How many drinks he got, or how he got the axlenut off, the narrator did not explain.