With shrieks of pain, three of the outlaws threw up their hands and pitched forward.
Convulsively their bodies twitched for a few moments and then lay still, while their life blood oozed from wounds in their backs, saturating their clothes and making soggy the ground on which they lay.
With a terrible oath, the world-famous desperado hissed:
"Don't try to return the fire. Our pistols won't carry up the cliff. Into the woods! Leave the bodies!"
As they saw the desperadoes continue their flight without stopping to take their dead pals with them, a mighty cheer broke from the soldiers.
And, while it echoed, again the deep-lunged voice bellowed:
"Fire!"
Once more the rattle of the musketry rang out.
But this time no men fell.