Prominent among the group was Wal.; each had his theory to advance, and each expressed it freely.
The barkeeper said: "Don't yer understand,"—a favorite expression when excited—"don't yer understand, the —— rascals don't live a great ways from this camp, and I wouldn't wonder if a few of them—don't yer understand—are right in sight of this shebang now, don't yer understand. I hain't got no sympathy for any such work—don't yer understand—and would help hang every mother's son of 'em, don't yer understand!"
Old Sam Bartlett expressed it as "his opinion that Reub. Jones, of Ute creek, knowed all about it, and was at the head of the gang."
Wal. put in his oar occasionally, but from his remarks it was apparent that his sympathy was rather in favor of that style of robbing than "stealing it through a —— old faro-box."
Words waxed high, and it was evident there "was going to be a difficult," as Kit Carson used to say.
The proprietor saw that trouble would ensue if the conversation was not dropped; so, desirous of putting an end to it, he turned to Wal. and said: "Wal., we've had enough of this—so come on and have a drink and go home."
Wal. accepted the invitation, and with a closing remark that "he considered the robbers were a —— sight better than some of the genteel thieves who lived right in camp," he walked up to the bar, while the owner from behind said, "Wal., what will you have?"
"I'll take whisky in mine," answered Wal.
Glass and bottle were set out, and while the proprietor was mixing a toddy beneath the bar for himself, Wal. seized the bottle, poured his glass full to the brim, then deliberately emptied it on the counter with the remark, "If you don't like that, why, then take your change anyway you want it," at the same instant putting his hand on his hip as if in the act of drawing his pistol.
As quick as thought, the proprietor, knowing the desperate character of the man he had to deal with, seized a pistol from behind the bar, leveled it, fired, and Wal. fell dead; then, immediately stepping from where he was to the front, pistol in hand, he emptied the remaining chambers of his revolver into the prostrate body.