Then Faye told me of what had occurred to make necessary all these
precautions. He had come over from Fort Lyon the day before, and had
been with Major Carroll, the depot quartermaster, during the afternoon
and evening. The men had established a little camp just at the edge of
the miserable town where the mules could be guarded and cared for.
About nine o'clock Faye and Mr. Davis started out for a walk, but
before they had gone far Faye remembered that he had left his pistols
and cartridge belt on a desk in the quartermaster's office, and
fearing they might be stolen they went back for them. He put the
pistols on underneath his heavy overcoat, as the belt was quite too
short to fasten outside.
Well, he and Mr. Davis walked along slowly in the bright moonlight
past the many saloons and gambling places, never once thinking of
danger, when suddenly from a dark passageway a voice said, "You are
the man I want," and bang! went a pistol shot close to Faye's head--so
close, in fact, that as he ducked his head down, when he saw the
pistol pointed at him, the rammer slot struck his temple and cut a
deep hole that at once bled profusely. Before Faye could get out one
of his own pistols from underneath the long overcoat, another shot was
fired, and then away skipped Mr. Davis, leaving Faye standing alone in
the brilliant moonlight.
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