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Updated: June 11, 2025


The house commanded the road, and the rush of the mob into the village was checked, but only for the instant. A rickety woodshed, which formed a portion of the Skillett mansion, closely joined the "Last Chance" side of the family place of business.

Robert Skillett, the proprietor of the saloon. Both buildings were shut up as tight as their state of repair permitted. As they were furthest to the east, they formed the nearest shelter, and to them the Cross-Roaders bent their flight, though they stopped not here, but disappeared behind Skillett's shanty, putting it between them and their pursuers, whose guns were beginning to speak.

Willetts and Ross Schofield were still standing on the roof, at the edge, out of the smoke, and both fired at the same time. The fugitives did not turn; they kept on running, and they had nearly reached the other side of the field, when suddenly, without any premonitory gesture, the elder Skillett dropped flat on his face.

Once or twice I thought I might get away, but somebody hammered me over the head and face again, and I got dizzy; and then they all jumped away from me suddenly, and Bob Skillett stepped up and shot me. He waited for a good flurry of lightning, and I was slow tumbling down. Some one else fired a shot-gun, I think I can't be sure about the same time, from the side.

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