The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1901-09-05
THE KILLING OF BILLY THE KID.
How the Notorious Young Outlaw Met His
End


And this is how the little tiger at last
found his end. He and the scant re-
mainder of his gang were on their way
across the line into Mexico, when Billy
finally made the fatal mistake of his life
time 1t was all about a woman. 1t be-
came known, in what way it would be
violating Pat CARROTS confidence to state
that upon a certain night Billy the Kid
would be at the ranch house Of one Max
well, far down to the south of Lincoln,
in the Rio Penasco country, it being his
purpose there to say good-by to a sweet
heart, a Mexican girl.
Pat Garrett, with two deputies, ap-
peared quietly at Maxwell's ranch house
on the evening specified. They were not
announced. 1t was a bright moonlight
night, so that objects could be plainly
discerned for some distance. Garrett left
his two deputies at the gate, close to the
door of the ranch house. He himself
slipped into the main room. He found
Maxwell in bed. Arguing that, if he
would permit q visit of this sort to his
place, he would also inform the
visitor in case he had opportunity, Gar
rett commanded the ranchman to lie
quietly in bed where he was He en-
forced this demand with an alternative
which had sufficient weight. He then
stepped back of the bed where Maxwell
lay, and in order to keep the latter quiet
he rested one arm across him, and with
the other kept his own pistol handy.
Pat Garrett was a good shot with the
heavy siX-shooter. Once, while some of
us were practicing with pistols, Pat Gar
rett, at distance of some 10 or u yards,
put five bullets from his six-shooter in a
nnEtaI card
tree. Now | will be particular" said
he, and shoot the stamp mark off the
corner" which latter he did practically as
stipulated.
Along toward midnight horseman
rode up and stopped his horse not far
from the ranch house. He came through
the gate where the two deputies were sit
ting. In order not to make any noise,
this horseman kicked off his boots. so that,
as he actually stepped over the threshold
Of the door, he stood with his boots in
his left hand. This surely was a moment
of mortal danger and of mortal terror TO
the two deputies who held guard without
They We're saved, by Providence alone
knows what of change in the mental ac-
ton of this little fiend, who was now
playing the last act of his red drama.
For the first time and the only time in
his life, Billy the Kid entertained a sus.
picion, and failed to shoot first and ask
his explanation afterward. He looked
with certain doubt upon the two figures
squatted down in the semi-darkness.
"Quien esp (Who is IT'D he asked.
amigos" (friends), one of the deputies
had strength enough left to utter. He
knew perfectly well who the little man
was, standing there at the door, with his
boots in his hand and the muzzle of his
revolver now pointing toward him hest
tatingly. 4r
Now the figure of Billy the Kid stand
ing thus, half hesitating, in the moonlight
at the open door, perhaps with some vague
softer thought of love and good-by in his
soul, just as there had been thought
of home and mother at the beginning of
his career, presented an object visible
enough at distance of q few feet to
anyone within the room. The long left
arm of Pat Garrett held Maxwell tightly
TO the bed. His own long legs slowly
uncoiled as he rose up from his place.
crowded between the bed and the wall.
The Kid heard some sort of sound be-
hind him, and quick as flash he whirIed,
hesitation no more part of him. 1t was
toe late. The aim of Pat Garrett, even
thus in the half-dark, was accurate as
ever. Billy the Kid, his face toward the
firing, fell forward into the room. Yet
so quick was his own mental and mus
cular action that he had, before receiving
his death-wound, fired his own shot in re
ply. Garrett fired again as the Kid fell.
Thus there were three shots in all fred.
but of these only two were ever located:
the first shot, which killed Billy, and the
shot from the Kids revolver, which went
high and lodged in the wall above the
bed.-Ed. Hough, In Eyerybodys Maya
zine.