The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1904-01-14

Course the stupid fool" ragged Vasquez.
Il should have killed him" The reck-
less, devils mood was on him
Following close after Haley came
George Redford another teamster. he
was quite deaf and did not hear Vas
queZs command to prostrata/ himself.
but be saw that trouble was afoot and
ran toward the stage stable. As be ran
vasQuez's two companions began to
fire. Their shots went wild, however,
and Redford had almost gained the
door Of the stable when the leader
turned and killed him with bullet
through the back.
The shooting Of Redford had been
seen by Scherrer, the blacksmith,
whose shop stood near the stable. he
thought there was to be wholesale
slaughter and determined to warn the
hotel keeper, Davidson, Of bis danger.
Leaving his shop, be made dash for
the open door Of the hotel with the
Mexicans firing at him. But be gained
the shelter OF the hotel unharmed, cry-
ing to Davidson, Shut the door Quick!
vasquez, too, had seen the open door
OF the hotel and had called out, with an
oath, to have it closed shut that
door," he shocted, "and keep it shut!
Then you won't be hurtY' But there
was some delay, and as Davidson
came forward to obey the order Vas
ouez rushed across to hasten the action
by firing through the panel The bul'
let tore through the thin wooden door
and strucS the hotel keeper square In
the breast, killing him instantly.
The death Of Davidson ended the
awful carnival Of murder. The plum
derers in the store finished their work
The outlaws then made their escape.
In a short time, however, Vasquez
was hunted out Of Monterey county.
and late in 1873 the tax collector Of
Los Angeles met him on a mountain
road Now. Maddigan, the collector.
was an efficient man despite his in
formal methods. In the matter Of poll
taxes It was his custom to gather them
when and where he could. AS Vasquez
came up to him, complete stranger to
the collector, Maddigan held DIP his
hand to stop him.
"Good morning." began the collector.
II don't seem to remember your face.
SIR. Maybe you've not paid your poll
tax. Is it so?'
The outlaw, surprised at the ques-
ton, admitted that the little Irishman
was right, after returning civil safu-
tation.
Then maybe you'll pay the tax to
me now," said the collector, peremp-
tory note in his voice. 'Is it so? It'll
be g."
~very we'll, friend" vasquez an
swered, smiling. He gave over the
money, and Maddigan scrawled on a
receipt blank the date and amount,
signed it, then looked up to. ask:
"What was the name you said, sir"
"vasquez," came the smiling answer.
'Tiburcio Vasquez. Shall spell it for
you, senor? For Maddigan's hand had
fallen limp from the book, and his eyes
had opened to a wide, terrified stare.
But he recovered his nerve, filed in the
blank and gave over the receipt. Vas
quez laughed at the little mans terror
and, with q cheerful "Adios, senof," I"
rode on. {
From Los Angeles Vasquez in De-
cember, 1873, led a party Of twelve
outlaws north into Fresno county,
where they pillaged the little mining
town Of Kingston. Then followed 9th
er raids not so successful. The sher-
If Of Los Angeles county took up the
chase In grim earnest, and Vasquez
fed early in 1874 to his old retreat near
Monterey.
The fight south was discovered, and
the Los Angeles sheriff was notified.
It was learned that Vasquez was quar-