John Kloehr had heard Seaman fire toward the horses and saw Broadwell pull himself onto the saddle. Kloehr had fired a bullet then but missed him. He saw Seaman raise up his shotgun again and jolt with it and he saw the sudden stain on Broadwell’s coat as he tilted off the saddle. He saw Seaman break the gun open and pry the shells out and grope in his pocket for two others; then Kloehr saw a solemn, mustached man jerk his horse reins loose and slide his rifle into a fleece-lined scabbard. Kloehr pressed his rifle stock to his cheek while Powers danced his horse around on the ground, yanking it down to four legs when it reared. Bill was just climbing into the saddle when Kloehr fired a slug he’d split with a penknife into his back. It hurled him over the saddle and his arms and head dangled down and the horse stood off of its front legs and Powers slid off the horse in a heap. The hole in his chest looked like blood worms.

Bob squatted against the back wall of Slosson’s drugstore with his holster unbuckled and clenched in his teeth. He pushed all the cartridges out of the webs and loaded his rifle and shook the others deep into his coat pocket. He glanced left and saw the pharmacist Frank Benson bend under the rear window sash, climbing out with a gun in his hand. Bob picked up his Colt and a foot-long flame shot out. The window glass shattered and Frank Benson disappeared.

Bob buckled on his holster staring at McKenna’s roof and walked out into the middle of the alley staring up at all the other roofs. He backed up like a boy hunting pigeons. Henry Isham stood on the porch of his store and slowly raised his rifle. The rifle jerked back and Bob heard a thud and it seemed as if he’d been punched near his lungs with a fist. He sat down hard on the rock curbs piled near the jail, his right hand holding his side. There was a hole the size of a quarter in him and a rib poking out like chicken bone and he must have felt a 16c of pain because he just sat there biting his lip.

I was back with the horses. The legs of Bill Powers jiggled with death and his pants stained black with his water. Grat sagged against a barn wall and pushed away and stumbled out into the alley.