Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1905-03-07
William wallace cookl

O2rrel was stunned by the sudden
ness OF the tragedy. In a second he
had whirled to look back up the street,
but saw no one. Then he did the
worst thing possible for himself by
Fastening to the PROSTATE form and
making an examination.
Sturgis was already dead. The bullet
had penetrated his heart and a stream
Of blood flowed from the wound and
formed q pool beneath him.
The shot and the tortured cry of the
dying man had aroused the people.
From the dance hall they came on a
run, and from Hawkbill's and other
resorts half-drunken mob charged
for the scene.
Darrell was found standing over
Sturgis revolver in hand. Sturgis was
dead and the habitues of Hawkbill's
knew that Sturgis and Darrell had
quarreled at cards.
Only one inference was possible
Darrell drew 1t e. quickly as those
around him.
Where's the MARSHALL" he asked,
his voice perfectly steady.
His hand frightened little on the
revolver and he retreated slowly until
his back was against the wall Of the
nearest building, the half circle Of
threatening faces in front.
1--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, boys?"
He appealed to the crowd. A snarl-
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 Darrell. His voice
was OF velvet but it cut like steel.
When open my gunplay, what l
miss In the original deal try to make
up in the draw. I am Nate Darrell, Of
San Francisco. Some of you have
probably heard of me and may know
that my word is as good as my bond.
l did not kill that man"
His declaration was drowned in a
derisive jeer. He knew he would not
be believed SO he was not disappoint-
ed.
Il did not kill that man." he re-
peated with deliberate emphasis, land
II you force me to fght for my life for
whatever happens you alone will be
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 q
revolver and every revolver had leaped
from pocket or holster.
"Shootings too good for hint"
shouted some one at the rear Of the
crowd.
The yelled suggestion was grasped on
the instant. It was we'll for Darrell,
since 1t turned the mob's attention to
rope instead Of bullet and would
consume more time in the execution.
Messengers were dispatched here and
there, but before anything could be
done a burly, broad-shouldered man
parted the ranks Of the rabble left and
right and reached barrels side.
GIVE me that gun!" he demanded
CURLY. I'm the marshal"
Darrell yielded up the weapon with
out word.
Now" cried the marshal, "this fell
low goes to the lookup, without any
IFS, nor ands, nor whyevers. There
amt man Of you that packs the nerve
to stop ne and you know it. Scatter
from in front of us and clear the trail!"
There was nothing in the marshal's
hands to enforce the order. He was
known to be man of few words and
prompt action, however, and the crowd
sullenly parted.
Then, with his arm in barrels the
marshal started his prisoner for the
Jail. The rabble, muttering wild
threats and chafing with baftled rage,
tagged at their heels.
ITO be continued.