Then they fronts each other; one in brown leather, the other in cloth as good as gold can buy. No one thinks of any difference between ’em, however, in a day when courage is the test of aristocracy.
Since one gent can’t hear, Webb is to give the word with a handkerchief. At the first flourish the rifles fall to a hor’zontal as still an’ steady as a rock. Thar’s a brief pause; then Webb drops his handkerchief.
Thar is a crack like one gun; Deef Smith’s hat half turns on his head as the bullet cuts it, while Morton stands a moment an’ then, without a sound, falls dead on his face. The lead from Deef Smith’s big rifle drills him through the heart. Also, since it perforates that gold repeater, an’ as the blood sort o’ clogs the works, the Austin folks decides it’s no use to send it on to Looeyville, but retains it that a-way as a keepsake.
With the bark of the guns an’ while the white smoke’s still hangin’ to mark the spot where he stands, Deef Smith’s hoss runs to him like a dog. The next instant Deef Smith is in the saddle an’ away. It’s jest as well. Morton’s plenty pop’lar with the Austin folks an’ mebby some sharp, in the first hysteria of a great loss, overlooks what’s doo to honor an’ ups an’ plugs this yere Deef Smith.
The Old Cattleman made a long halt as indicative that his story was at an end. There was a moment of silence, and then the Jolly Doctor spoke up.
“But how about the books and papers?” asked the Jolly Doctor.
“Oh, nothin’ partic’lar,” said the Old Cattleman. “It turns out like Old Houston prophesies. Three days later, vain an’ soopercilious, he rides in, corrals them archives, an’ totes ’em haughtily off to the Brazos.”
Following the Old Cattleman’s leaf from Lone Star annals, the Sour Gentleman prepared himself to give us his farewell page from the unwritten records of the Customs.
“On this, our last evening,” observed the Sour Gentleman, “it seems the excellent thing to tell you what was practically my final act of service or, if you will, disservice with the Customs. We may call the story ‘How the Filibusterer Sailed.’”