It was some strange an' terrible to see his awful earnestness.
Why would such a man cling so to life?
Anyway, he got the gun with left hand an' was raisin' it, pullin' trigger in his madness, when the third thunderin' shot hit his left arm, an' he dropped the gun again.

But thet left arm wasn't useless yet, fer he grabbed up the gun, an' with a shakin' aim thet would hev been pitiful to me--in any other man--he began to shoot.

One wild bullet struck a man twenty feet from Lassiter.
An' it killed thet man, as I seen afterward.

Then come a bunch of thunderin' shots--nine I calkilated after, fer they come so quick I couldn't count them--an' I knew Lassiter hed turned the black guns loose on Dyer.
"I'm tellin' you straight, Miss Withersteen, fer I want you to know.
Afterward you'll git over it.

I've seen some soul-rackin' scenes on this Utah border, but this was the awfulest.