Turner and his men found protection against the wall between these openings.

When the “Kid” and party returned to the port-holes they were hailed by Turner, who demanded their surrender, as he had warrants for their arrest.

The “Kid” replied: “We, too, hold warrants for you and your gang, which we will serve on you, hot from the muzzles of our guns.”

About this time Lieut. Col. Dudley, of the Ninth Cavalry, arrived from Ft. Stanton with a company of infantry and some artillery.

Planting his cannons midway between the belligerent parties, Col. Dudley proclaimed that he would turn his guns loose on the first of the two, who fired over the heads of his command.

Despite this warning, shots were fired back and forth, but no harm was done.

Now Martin Chavez, who at this writing is a prosperous merchant in Santa Fe, rode up with thirty-five Mexicans, whom he had deputized to protect McSween and the “Kid’s” party.

Col. Dudley asked him under what authority he was acting. He replied that he held a certificate as deputy sheriff under Brady. Col. Dudley told him that as Sheriff Brady was dead, and a new sheriff had been appointed, his commission was not in effect. Still he proclaimed that he would protect the “Kid” and McSween.

Now Col. Dudley ordered Chavez off the field of battle, or he would have his men fire on them. When the guns were pointed in their direction, the Chavez crowd retreated to the Ellis Hotel. Here he ordered his followers to fire on the soldiers if they opened up on the “Kid” and party with their cannon.

Toward night the Turner men, who were up against the McSween residence, between the port-holes, managed to set fire to the front door and windows. A strong wind carried the blaze to the woodwork of other rooms.

Mrs. McSween and her three lady friends had left the building before the fight started. She had made one trip back to see her husband. The firing ceased while she was in the house.

In the front parlor, Mrs. McSween had a fine piano. To prevent it from burning, the “Kid” moved it from one room to another until it was finally in the kitchen.

The crowd made merry around the piano, singing and “pawing the ivory,” as the “Kid” expressed it to the writer a few months later.

After dark, when the fiery flames began to lick their way into the kitchen, where the smoke begrimed band were congregated, a question of surrender was discussed, but the “Kid” put his veto on the move. He stood near the outer door of the kitchen, with his rifle, and swore he would kill the first man who cried surrender. He had planned to wait until the last minute, then all rush out of the door together, and make a run for the Bonita river, a distance of about fifty yards.

Finally the heat became so great, the kitchen door was thrown open.

At this moment one Mexican became frightened and called out at the top of his voice not to shoot, that they would surrender. The “Kid” struck the fellow over the head with his rifle and knocked him senseless.

When the Mexican called out that they would surrender, Robert W. Beckwith, a cattleman of Seven Rivers, and John Jones, stepped around the corner of the building in full view of the kitchen door.

A shot was fired at Beckwith and wounded him on the hand. Then Beckwith opened fire and shot Lawyer McSween, though this was not a death shot. Another shot from Beckwith’s gun killed Vicente Romero. Now the “Kid” planted a bullet in Beckwith’s head, and he fell over dead. Leaping over Beckwith’s body, the band made a run for the river. The “Kid” was in the lead yelling: “Come on, boys!” Tom O’Phalliard was in the rear. He made his escape amidst flying bullets, without a scratch, although he had stopped to pick up his friend Harvey Morris. Finding him dead he dropped the body.

McSween fell dead in the back yard with nine bullets in his body, which was badly scorched by the fire, before he left the building.

It was 10 P. M. when the fight had ended. Seven men had been killed and many wounded. Only two of Turner’s posse were killed, while the “Kid” lost five,—McSween, Morris and three Mexicans.

CHAPTER VII.

“BILLY THE KID” KILLS TWO MORE MEN. AT THE HEAD OF A RECKLESS BAND, HE STEALS HORSES BY THE WHOLESALE. HE BECOMES DESPERATELY IN LOVE WITH MISS DULCUIEA DEL TOBOSO.

After their escape from Lincoln, “Billy the Kid” got his little band together, and made a business of stealing stock and gambling. Their headquarters were made in the hills near Fort Stanton—only a few miles above Lincoln. The soldiers at the Fort paid no attention to them.

Now Governor Lew Wallace, the famous author of “Ben Hur,” of Santa Fe, the capital of the Territory of New Mexico, issued a proclamation granting a pardon to “Billy the Kid” and his followers, if they would quit their lawlessness, but the “Kid” laughed it off as a joke.

On the 5th day of August, “Billy the Kid” and gang rode up in plain view of the Mescalero Indian Agency and began rounding up a band of horses.

A Jew by the name of Bernstein, mounted a horse and said he would go out and stop them. He was warned of the danger, but persisted in his purpose of preventing the stealing of their band of gentle saddle horses.

When Mr. Bernstein rode up to the gang and told them to “vamoose,” in other words, to hit the road, the “Kid” drew his rifle and shot the poor Jew dead. This was the “Kid’s” most cowardly act. His excuse was that he “didn’t like a Jew, nohow.”

During the fall the government had given a contract to a large gang of Mexicans to put up several hundred tons of hay at $25 a ton. As they drew their pay, the “Kid” and gang were on hand to deal monte and win their money.

When the contract was finished, there was no more business for the “Kid’s” monte game, so with his own hand, as told to the author by himself, he set fire to the hay stacks one windy night.

Now the Government gave another contract for several hundred tons of hay at $50 a ton—as the work had to be rushed before frost killed the grass.

When pay day came around the “Kid’s” monte game was raking in money again.

The new stacks were allowed to stand, as it was too late in the season to cut the grass for more hay.

During the fall the “Kid” and some of his gang made trips to Fort Sumner. Bowdre and Skurlock always remained near their wives in Lincoln, but finally those two outlaws moved their families to “Sumner,” where a rendezvous was established. Here one of their gang, who always kept in the dark, and worked on the sly, lived with his Mexican wife, a sister to the wife of Pat Garrett. His name was Barney Mason, and he carried a curse of God on his brow for the killing of John Farris, a cowboy friend of the writer’s, in the early winter of 1878.

On one of his trips to Fort Sumner, “Billy the Kid” fell desperately in love with a pretty little seventeen-year-old half-breed Mexican girl, whom we will call Miss Dulcinea del Toboso. She was a daughter of a once famous man, and a sister to a man who owned sheep on a thousand hills. The falling in love with this pretty, young miss, was virtually the cause of “Billy the Kid’s” death, as up to the last he hovered