A stage arrived twice a week from Sanderson, if it did not get held up on the way, and the driver usually had letters, which he turned over to the elderly keeper of a little store.
This man's name was Jones, and everybody liked him.

On the evenings the stage arrived there was always a crowd at his store, which fact was a source of no little revenue to him.
One night, so we ascertained, after the crowd had dispersed, two thugs entered his store, beat the old man and robbed him.

He made no complaint; however, when Steele called him he rather reluctantly gave not only descriptions of his assailants, but their names.
Steele straightaway went in search of the men and came across them in Lerett's place.

I was around when it happened.
Steele strode up to a table which was surrounded by seven or eight men and he tapped Sim Bass on the shoulder.
"Get up, I want you," he said.
Bass looked up only to see who had accosted him.
"The hell you say!" he replied impudently.
Steele's big hand shifted to the fellow's collar.

One jerk, seemingly no effort at all, sent Bass sliding, chair and all, to crash into the bar and fall in a heap.