Eastern Colorado times., 1912-12-06

death with our w.hirling gun-barrels,
falling back step by step as we fought.
At last ! felt the bottom stairs with
my foot. and heard a voice shout:
"Come up. sir! We'n hold 'em now!"
Then / was above the heads of the
mob. gripping the rail. and sobbing for
breath. There followed a moments
wait. an instant Of hesitancy. ! began
to see and feel once more. Below us
the hall was jammed with men, 80
closely pressed together as to be al
most helpless. Blood streamed ffom a
cut in my forehead. nearly binding
me. but wiped 1t away. and took one
glance at their angry upturned faces,
and gained a glimpse of my own men.
There were but six of us. and one Of
these lay helpless propped against the
wall. Tom and stood alone. his face
blackened by powder. his shirt ripped
into rags; the other three were above,
pistols In hand.
"Are they loaded?" gasped
"Yes. SIR"
Stand ready then. but look out for
above: there was guard up there
Tom"
He turned his face slightly. ::
Move back step or two more;
we've got to hold them" =:
"All right. SIR" :
felt weak from loss OF blood, my
head reeling. and had to hold to the
rail. Below US. growing like wild
beasts, but seemingly leaderless. the
mob crushed forward to the foot Of
the stairs. Suddenly l saw Grant. and
the sight of him gave me new life.
"You black-faced hound" called
down aDgrily. You've kept yourself
safe SO far. Now come on"
He snarled some answer, what, I
in my belt, and flung it at him with
all the force Of my arm. He lodged.
the weapon striking the man behind.
With howl Of rage the fellows leaped
toward US, bearing Grant on the crest
Of the wave. The pistols of the ORA
goons cracked; three fell, blocking the
stairs with their bodies. We had room
now in which to swing our iron bars.
and we battered them like demons
lost sight Of Grant, the red drip Of
blood over my eyes making all before
me a mist l only knew enough to
strike. Yet fight as we would there
was no holding them. We were forced
to give way. Guns began to spit fire.
l saw the wounded Dragon dragged
down under the feet of the mob;
hands gripped my legs, and l kicked
at the faces in my effort to tear loose.
Tom reeled against the wall, his arm
shattered by a blow. and one Of the
men above came tumbling over me.
shot dead. The fall of him cleared
the stairs an instant; then the rail
broke, and several toppled over with
It L stumbled back almost to the top,
sweeping the hair and blood out Of
my eyes. What-what was the mat
ter? They were running. those fellows
down there-struggling. fighting
among themselves to get away. Oaths.
yells, cries of sudden fear, made a per
feet babel. could not understand.
could not grasp the meaning Of the
sudden panic. Who were those men
surging in through the front door.
pouring out through the library? Then
a voice roared out:
"Bedad, they're Fagin's hell-hounds,
byes-ter hell wild 'em!"
Where had heard the voice before?
l sank down, too weak to stand, my
head hanging over the edge Of the
stairs. Some hand drew me back, but
had no strength left. Only could
think-and the truth came to me.
Camden militia! Camden militia! BY
all the gods. Farrell was there! It
vas the voice of the Irish minute man
l hear the night We captured Della
vans raiders. Then closed my eyes,
and forgot. -