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Updated: May 12, 2025
Half an hour later they were re-seated, before each of them a small pile of pamphlets, instructions, plans, blueprints. Mayer said, "I have just one more device to bring to your attention at this time. I wish it were unnecessary but I am afraid otherwise." He held up for their inspection, a forty-five-caliber bullet. Jerry Kennedy handed around samples to the merchants.
Were it not for the grim reminder of the forty-five-caliber revolver which the nature of his sworn duties did not allow of his laying aside even upon a night like this, it would have been easy to forget that he was all that which the one word sheriff connotes in a land like that about San Juan. "Can't get away from it, can we?"
He saw del Rio stagger back under the impact of a forty-five-caliber bullet which must have merely grazed him, since it did not knock him off his feet. Del Rio, his lips streaming his curses and hatred, fired again. But his wound had been sorer than Norton's, his aim was less steady, and now as he gave back it was to fall heavily and lie still. It had lasted less than five minutes.
As he heard it, he twisted about like the snapping lash of a whip and darted back for cover, three yards away. He covered that distance like a little gray streak in the shadow, but before he reached it the gun spoke, and the forty-five-caliber slug struck him in the middle and tore him in two.
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