The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1889-10-03

camp tonight" he asked, in strange,
hoarse voice.
"Frisco Bill he calls himself" / re-
piled. Hes frst-rate fellow. Why
didn't you come out and make his ac.
quaintanceP"
What is his full name?" asked
Smith, not needing my question.
Il don't know" / responded. s.l
only heard him called Frisco Bill.
Why do you ask?'
"No matter. Goodnight.
And the "Dominie'' turned on his
heel and re-entered his tent.
The next morning at an early hour
about four o'clock was awakened by
the noise of scuffing just outside my
tent.
Then came loud cry of mortal ag.
ony and heard the sound of a heavy
body falling upon the ground.
rushed out and in the dim light
the first faint streak of grey was ap.
pearing in the east-I saw lying by the
entrance of my tent. the body of Frisco
Bill. the blood pouring from frightful
wound in his breast, which the loose,
open shirt he wore displayed.
AS | approached he uttered a faint,
convulsive sob and died.
1 bent over his body in horror and
cried for help.
In less than ten minutes he was sur
rounded by a group of excited men.
Who did it?" was the cry which
arose from a dozen throats.
''Are we all here?" some one asked.
"All but Sam Barton and the dom
inie," was the reply; ''and Sam was
here just now"
Here he isr' shouted the voice of
Barton at that moment, land here's
the cuss that killed Frisco Bill!n
THE 'Dominier" exclaimed all, for
Barton held that individual by the
collar.
In his hand the Dominic" cIutched
a bloody knife.
His face was pale but calm.
Eyes, the Dominic, hang him." said
Barton; 81 caught him just as he was
sneaking off,"
You are mistaken. Barton,'' said
Smith, quietly; Il was not attempting
to escape
"See here, boys" I interposed, at
this juncture, "there must be some
mistake, the Dominic did not kill
this man"
Yes, Reid, did kill him!" said the
Dominic" as calmly as if he had
been making the most ordinary state
ment, rather than confessiug a fright
full crime
''What, you confess it, do you?" ex-
claimed Barton. "All right, you white
faced sneak. we'll make short work of
you. Boys" he added, turning to the
rest of US, what shall we do with
himp"
String him up."
Hang him to the nearest tree"
"Serve him as he served poor Bill. {"
These were a few of the replies
which were made to Sam Barton's de-
mands.
l ventured to interpose at this point.
Surely we are not justified in thus
taking the law into our own hands" I
began.
''Yes, we are," interrupted the stern
voice of Barton; sin this here commu-
nifty the people make the laws and
carry 'em out, too. The people have
said that this murderin' cuss shall die,
and die he must"
Il thank you for your interposition
in my behalf said Smith, addressing
me, but l assure you / care not what
becomes of me. I have wiped out in
blood a wrong which has ranked in
my bosom for years, and am ready to
die if such be the will of God"
An impromptu gallows was now con-
structed by merely throwing rope
over the stout branch of an oak tree.
Now. then, take your place here,
ordered Barton, addressing Smith, and
pointing to a spot directly under
where the end of the rope dangled.
The Dominic obeyed without hes
itation.
Have you any thing to say before
we swing you offPn demanded Barton.
Yes, l have" replied the con-
demned man, in loud, clear voice.
"Well, then, now's your time. Go
ahead, and be quick about it.
II want to say few words in justi-
fication of the crime have committed, !"
began the Dominic" ITO begin with,
let me say that my real name is Henry
Varrey.
-Four years ago was a prosperous
and happy mechanic in San Francisco.
! had a widowed mother and a sister, a
beautiful girl of eighteen. In an evil
hour l introduced Edmand Dunbar to
them. He was workman in the same
shop with me, and believed him to be
one of the best fellows living. Instead,
he was fiend incarnate. o, could l
but have penetrated his mask ere it
became too late!
''In time he became engaged to nv