They turned their horses suddenly and fired at Mr. Bates, the ball crashing through the plate glass. There were other men at the bank firing down the street. The next he saw was Mr. J. S. Allen running down the street from the bank, and two shots were fired at him. Mr. Manning, of Mill Square, whose store is adjoining the block in which the bank is, next came upon the scene. He ran out of his store with a breech loading repeating rifle, and took a deliberate aim and fired from the corner, Mr. Bates calling out: “Jump back now, or they’ll get you.” Next Mr. J. B. Hide came up with a double-barrelled shot gun and discharged the two barrels, and retired to re-load. Mr. Phillips also took a turn at the scoundrels, and L. Stacy delivered a cool, deliberate aim. Mr. Bates next heard a report over his head and saw one of the desperadoes fall from his horse. The horse made a faltering plunge forward and then suddenly stopped and the man pitched over with his face to the ground and in a few moments was dead. This shot was fired by Henry Wheeler from an old carbine from out one of the windows of the Dampier House. Mr. Manning was still firing, and as he crept to the corner Mr. Waldo called out: “Take good aim before you fire.” Immediately after this shot one of the horses started up the street and the rider began to reel and swing to and fro and suddenly fell to the ground just opposite Eldridge’s store. Another horseman immediately rode up, dismounted, and spoke to the prostrate man, who was stretched out at full length, supporting himself on his outstretched arms, when he rolled over on his back. Then the other man took from him his cartridge belt and two pistols, and, remounting his horse, rode off. Another horseman, finding Mr. Manning’s fire too hot, dismounted from his horse and got on the opposite side of it for protection, when an unerring ball from the breech loader brought the horse down, the man running behind some boxes which were piled beneath the stair-case before mentioned, and now ensued a LIVELY FUSILADE between this fellow and Manning, the scoundrel keeping himself well under cover, but a ball from Wheeler’s musket struck the fellow in the leg, half way above the knee. He at once changed his pistol to the left hand and grasped the wounded limb with the right, still trying to get at Manning. Finding himself getting weak, he turned and limped off up the street, but, seeing Bates with a pistol in his hand, he sent a ball whizzing toward that gentleman, grazing the side of his cheek and the bridge of his nose, and burying itself in a collar-box in the store. Mr. Bates says he feels the ring of that ball in his ear still, and the ball, he says, he will ever keep as a souvenir of the hottest day Northfield ever saw. The man limped away, and when he got opposite to Mr. Morris’ store, he cried out to his retreating companions, “My God, boys, you are not going to leave—I am shot!”