Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-05-02

| Sa1Q SJurg1S, between his teeth. NC man could play the game you did with out being one or the other. It was DarreIs discard you threw into the deadwood, and you sat between Cliff and me and helped yourself to just what you wanted out of the pack" Darrel laughed a little at that II wasn't the first time his phenomenal skill had led gambler to confound ] him with the arch fiend.
 You're bungler, Sturgis," said he. land have yet to learn the first rudi- ments of your profession. have taught you lesson and if you want to live long enough to profit by it you'll put that gun in your pocket and take yourself off"
 An exasperated cry fell from Sur gis' lips. Recklessly he threw himself forward, raising the six-shooter to level with his eyes.
 There was no blood on Nate Darrel's hands. In his whole career he had never found it necessary to protect his life by taking another's.
 His ready wit and his wonderful strength-which his slight form in a manner belied-had times out of mind been his bulwarks of elf-defense. He had horror of bloodshed and carried revolver in humble demonstration of the theory that leads great nations to build great navies-hoping to make the arbitrament of war still more remote. By coming to Sandy Bar in quest of Murgatroyd he had faced an issue at direct variance with his inclinations. He was we'll aware that fatalities were almost certain to result; if he were the victim, no aching void would be left in the world while if Murgatroyd fell the cause of humanity would be advanced.
 But he wanted no exchange of shots with Sturgis. He had threatened, but l 1t was with the forlorn hope of avoid ing clash.
 As the irate blackleg plunged for ward, Darrel threw himself to one side. At that precise moment a shot rang out from some point at DarreFs rear, bullet famed his cheek and Sturgis, with an agonized cry, tossed his hands in the air, reeled and fell face down. ward on the sidewalk.
 Darrel was stunned by the sudden ness of the tragedy. Tn second he had whirled to look back up the street, but saw no one Then he did the worst thing possible for himself by hastening to the prostrate form and I making an examination. Sturgis was already dead. The bullet had penetrated his heart and a stream of blood flowed from the wound and forYvnad a y.nol hnnoo%h ixnn The shot and the tortured cry of the 1 dying man had aroused the people. From the dance hall they came on a run, and from Hawkbilps and other resorts a half-drunken mob charged for the scene.
 Darrel was found standing over Sturgis revolver in hand. Sturgis was dead and the habitues of Hawkbill's knew that Sturgis and Darrel had l Quarreled at cards
 Only one inference was possible Darrel drew 1t as quickly as those around him.
 Where's the marshaf?" he asked, his voice perfectly steady.
 His hand frightened little on the revolver and he retreated slowly until
 
 nearest building, the half circle of threatening faces in front.
 We don't need the marshal" said | Cliff, savagely. "Jack Sturgis is dead and you're the one that killed him. Do we need the marshal, boys2"
 He appealed to the crowd A snarI- ing negative passed through the ranks of the crowd and the half circle be- gan to contract.
 You'll need the marshal or the un- dertaker," returned Darrel. His voice | was of velvet but it cut like steel. When I open my gunplay. what l miss in the original deal I try to make up in the draw. I am Nate Darrel, of l San Francisco. Some of you have ! probably heard of me and may know that my word is as good as my bond. I did not kill that man.
 His declaration was drowned in derisive jeer. He knew he would not be believed so he was not disappoint- ! ed
 T did not kill that man" he re-. peated with deliberate emphasis, "and ] if you force me to fight for my life for whatever happens you alone will be 1 responsible. I want the marshal and am willing to be put under lock and key until the coroner has chance to sift this affair. That's all you can ex- pect of me-
 Every man in the rabble carried a revolver and every revolver had leaped from pocket or holster.
 "Shootings too good for him!'' shouted some one at the rear of tho crowd.
 l The yelled suggestion was grasped on the instant It was well for parrel, since it turned the mob's attention to I a rope instead of bullet and would consume more time in the execution.
 Messengers were dispatched here and there, but before anything could be done burly, broad-shouldered man parted the ranks of the rabble left and right and reached Darrels side
 Give me that gun!" he demanded