The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1903-12-25
he did not at first see Bolande,s re.

on hint of rigor, and there was a
twang of defiance il his tone as he
tried to laugh out his Owning this
place now, are you, marshal ?"
There was too little subtility in Bo-
lande's intonation to deceive the mar
shall in it's portent, and he flung back
a sharp reply: ANY skin off you, if l
do?"
And Bolande Gained before the 9TH
er's frark resentment and struggling
himself again murmured: Nope But
thar'll be some off the man that tries
to take my gun away"
Almost pleadingly the quiescent
marshal answered: "Jesse, I'll give
you till six to put up your gun, or pull
your freight out of this"
Still more unassumingly, but still
more firmly, Bolande answered: "Ycr'E
find me right mere at six. Bring your
nerve with you, marshal. Have a
drink"
Don't mind if l do, Jesse. Here's
howl" and they drained the martyr
dom with unfiinching gustC. Then the
marshal turned to leave, and RolaDdc
sang out, with no whit of banter in his
voice:
$50 long, marshal! Six o'clock, is
it?"
six, jesse" he answered, with as
much OF tender appeal in his voice as
was possible in the throat made brass
with the raw western air, and heart
grown f1inty with years of concealed,
depressed, and thereby little-known
emotion. Better think it over,
jesse"
Bolande only answered half anolo-
getically: I'm not heavy on the
Think" and retrieved himself from
tenderness with blunt, ''but I'll be
here, six foot two in my socks" The
outer day had swaEaNed the mar
shall.
The cynosure of ali the eyes am
pushed behind heavy eyebrows and
low-brimmed hats was Bolande, who
was again at the bar, rigid and erect
as a tower. One hand played a tat
too with his half-emptied glass, the
other lowered at the butt of his pis-
toll. He was stolid, alert, grim, deadly.
The whizz and boom of the striking
clock startled everyone in the almost
noiseiess room. The fights of from
tiersmen are generally the sudden
promptings of an unforeseen rage. For
NAL, punctual duello is rare. Even Bo-
lande was a little nervous, and gulped
not infrequently stimulants to whet
his nerves and anger to the nicely of
a razor. With knowledge born of life
long experience. he had equally re-
Trained from drinking himself past the
best form.
The marshal evidently thought it
only right to give his old friend three
minutes of grace. for it was a little
after the hour when his step was
heard on the board walk outside. His
lean, strong figure was clad in his best
broadcloth-he would fight like gen.
tleman, ready for grave or triumph.
That his ready-made suit was much too
loose hardly marred the untheatric
sublimity of his erect, stern, stubborn,
Anglo-Saxon courage. In very mod
esty he pulled his broad-brimmed hat
over the panther blaze of his ruthless
glare
When the marshal entered the sa-
loon, Bolande waited calmly for his
eyes to learn the denser twilight of
the room. His hand drew a little
nearer his revolver, but forebore to
draw it or even clutch it's handle
AS the marshaPs searching look
made out Bolande's form, and hunting
further, found his pistol undethroned,
his teeth set hard upon the last plea
of friendship, and with a perfectly
level voice he said, inquisitorially
calm: you're still here, see."
I'm here" came an answer of equal
phlegm.
And though there was cry of irony
in his voice, yet it was quiet. as the
marshal declared war thus: Then, by
God, look out for yourself!"
With epic equality and speed the
weapons leaped into position. The
spectators, knowing no shots would be
wasted, kept only from the immediate
neighborhood of the fight. Two semi
CllClCS VI lolhI SldlhOui ludlh Ou luC
path of the revolvers as they flashed
from hip to aim. A splitting of quick
fire-two sharp sniacks of noise, so
twined that neither eye nor ear could
name the earlier, and the revolvers
had spoken. Neither in vain.
Bolande fought with his arm swing
ing free, his whole body exposed The
marshal's first bullet hit him in the
depth of his chest and whirled him
completely around. The next shot
lunged into his unwounded side and
thrust clean through him.
The marshal. little cooler, little
reader for battle, had crooked his left
arm into shield for his heart and
lungs, and in its elbow rested his busy
revolver. Bolandes first shot went
high and Selling on his chin, carried
away the flesh of half his jaw The
second missed, flung low and nipped
Mt his right elbow, shattering the joint
and shaking the six-shooter from his
grasp. AS he bent IL nerce haste to
seize it with his left haEa, Bolande
shot him through the top of the Shout
der, breaking his spine and paralyz-
ing the lower part of him. But even as
he Quivered to the floor he Crashed his