Bisbee daily review., 1917-05-13
uey of the peaceful Morgan kitchen.

well-infOrmed donkey "a sad-eyed creature who demonstrated his intel hgence by lying down as often as the child got firmly seated on his back. Their laughter came clearly to the ears of the Killer. His own eyes twinkled sympatheticaIly. Then he yawned and hoped that their summons to breakfast would not be too long delayed. It bored him to walt there m the heat and dust without the sol ace of a cigarette.
 He fondled the grip of his revolver and repined that his orders had been strict that he might not shoot now. when the three offered him such fair targets, and have done with the busi- ness without delaying to take two of them prisoners if possible.
 In due time, however, the mother appeared in the doorway and called them in. The donkey was abandoned to crop his own breakfast. The door yard was left untenanted. Gomez sub. jected the surrounding landscape to one final. prolonged scrutiny, then turned, squirmed back through the un- derbrush, rose to his feet, and hurried to rejOin his fellows.
 Leading their horses. the Mexicans moved forward furtively, surrounding the home without rousing the suspi- cions of its tenants.
 To these the attack came like thun- der from the blue. They breakfasted behind doors closed and bolted-by habit of precaution; that circumstance nlone provided them with a chance for their lives.
 There came sudden rush of feet in the dooryard, and the front door was furiously battered with rifle butts. Simultaneously a window adjoining the table was smashed in. Bud Nor gan had barely time to spring to the cartridge belt and holster which hung on the wall behind them when the first shot sounded. He emptied a revolver at the window in response-meanwhile urging the two women and the child into the adjoining bedchamber. As they disappeared the front door began to give to the blows of an ax. Bud had second revolver ready for the rush that followed it's breaking in. The satisfaction of seeing two of the raiders fall was at least his before he was charged and carried to the floor by half dozen Mexicans.
 Why he was not shot outright passed his understanding. His weapons emp ty, he fought madly with his bare hands. He was a young man, and hard and powerful; the combined ex- ertions of the six could not avail to keep him down for long. One after another he struck and kicked them of. then struggled to his feet. At the same time he was assailed from be- hind; a staggering blow from a gun butt all but felled him.
 Sick with pain, he reeled out through the doorway. There others awaited him. He went down again under their assault. again fought his way to his feet, this time with a revolver which he had wrested from the grasp of one of his adversaries.
 Gomez the Killer confronted him as he rOse-weary of eye, almost difident of manner. watching his prey warily, revolver poised. It was becoming plain to Gomez that this man was not to be taken alive. As Bud caught sight of him. he fred. The Americans head jerked back sharply. there was a look of agony on his face. swiftly erased by the blankness of inconsistencies. his knees buckled. and he dropped one side of his head a mass of blood.
 It never occurred to the Killer to doubt that his bullet had penetrated Buds brain. He wasted no more thought upon the unhappy man-after irritably kicking him-and passed on into the house.
 The bedchamber door was down. Within. Bess Morgan was fighting for her life. A dead Mexican just beyond the threshold testified to the skill with which she had used the revolver which. it's every chamber discharged. she was now employing as club.
 Slender and young. a mere slip of tair-haired girl barely out of her teens, she fought with science and the desperation of one who faces, if not death, worse than death. She had no reason to anticipate any sort of mercy; her mother lay dead. bullet through her heart, in a far corner of the room her little nephew had just dropped out of the window to be ruthlessly shot down as he fled round a corner of the house.
 Lounging in the doorway. a shoulder against. it. Gomez rolled and lighted a cigarette. watching her struggles with glimmer of approbation. Gringo women like this, with such spirit and strength. were worth fighting for. The Killer regretted that he must hand her over to his superior. What woman-once he had tanned heri
 She was standing of no less than three Mexican desperadoes-one she stretched out with a skull cracked by a shrewd blow from the butt of the re- volver, even while Gomez watched. But the others were too many for her; stepping back to avoid their ruSheS she tripped over the body of one of their fellows, and went down. That was the end; in another moment she was helpless in their hands.
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