An' in a cabin gun-shots almost lift the roof.
Folsom was on his knees, dyin', wavin' his gun, whisperin' in fiendish glee that he had done for me.

When he saw Jack an' remembered he shook so with fury that he scattered blood all over.

An' he took long aim at Jack, tryin' to steady his gun.

He couldn't, an' he missed, an' then fell over dead with his head on Jack's knees.

That left the red-bearded rustler, who had hid behind the chimney.