It was not long after his departure before the entire town was in an uproar. Moses Goldman, the energetic draper, had been found shot--killed in his own shop by Jim Cutler. The latter had been seen entering Goldman’s establishment by several persons, and the shot had been heard by people living above the store, who afterwards saw Cutler leaving. Sheriff Benson, accompanied by two deputies, promptly called at the Gem Saloon, but the officer was a trifle late, for Cutler was by that time some miles distant. Lest it should be thought that Cutler had made his escape through cowardice it may be best to explain at once, perhaps, that this was not the case. The man realized that should he be apprehended the name of Miss Thurloe must necessarily figure prominently in the matter. Strange as it may seem, this six-foot gambler, knowing no better, believed that by “making himself scarce” he was protecting that lady’s good name. This was a mistake, undoubtedly, but the fact remains that he made it. It happened that Rufe Benson, Sheriff of Beulah County, was a sworn enemy of Cutler’s, for the latter some years before had taken the law into his own hands and at the point of his gun liberated a prisoner whom he believed to be innocent, and who was eventually proved to be so. Benson now formed a posse of some twenty armed men, and there began a man-hunt which lasted, so far as this particular posse was concerned, for a fortnight. They were then reinforced by a body of “Rangers,” some fifty strong, who in turn found it necessary to call to their assistance a body of militia. All these officers were ably assisted by the citizens and residents of Beulah County, altogether some thousand strong, and yet Jim Cutler proved more than their match. Benson’s men trailed the fugitive to Kerry’s ranch, some six miles out; from here he had gone north-west toward the Rio Grande. He was mounted on a thoroughbred--as were all the men, for that matter--but six miles was a long start in a case like this, and should the hunted man once reach the mountains--well, there might be some trouble in getting at him. The telegraph was put into operation, and a circle some ten miles in circumference drawn around Cutler. When this cordon closed in, however, they failed to find the gambler amongst them, but they _did_ find two self-appointed “man-hunters” lying where they had fallen to the deadly aim of Jim Cutler’s repeating-rifle.