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rned, and his face was white and his tongue voluble. “Don’t shoot me,” he pleaded, “I am the chaplain of the Thirteenth Kansas; my name is U. P. Gardner, I have killed no man, but have pr

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  • 226 “Will you surrender?” Jesse asked, recocking his pistol
  • and presenting it again. “Never,” was the stern reply. Goss,
  • still reeling in the saddle and bleeding dreadfully. Wh
  • en the blue white smoke curled up again ther


  • e was a riderless
  • steed among the tree
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  • s and a guilty spirit somewhere out in the darkness of the unknown. It took two dragoon revolver bullets to finish this one, and yet James was not satisfied with his work. There was a preacher along who also had sat himse
  • lf steadfast in the saddle, and had fought as the best of them did. James rode straight at him after he had finished Goss. The parson’s heart failed him at last, however, and he started to run. James gained upon him at every step. When c

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