An utterly fearless man, this Ranger Dick Ware, worthy exponent of all the heroic traditions of the service. Odds of three to one might well have sent a genuinely brave officer back indoors to fire from cover. But Ware ran toward them, his .45 flipping up. There was a hitching post on the sidewalk and bullets from Bass’ gang knocked splinters from it that struck Ware in the face. But he came on, firing rapidly. A bullet struck Sam Bass’ cartridge belt, broke two shells, and mushrooming, tore his right kidney to ribbons.
General Jones, at this moment coming up-street, heard the staccato rattle of the firing and came on the run as Bass and the others backed toward their horses. Jones had but a small-calibre double-action Colt, but he entered the duel blithely, joining Dick Ware. The other two Rangers who had come to Round Rock with Ware now ran up also, while from doorways up and down the street appeared armed citizens to open fire upon the trio by the horses.
Barnes was shot dead, Bass was mortally wounded. Only young Frank Jackson now stood erect, and, with bravery equal to Dick Ware’s, he kept up the outlaws’ end of the firing while with left hand he unhitched Sam Bass’ horse. Bullets fairly rained around him from all directions as he helped Bass into the saddle, then sprang upon his own animal.
Out through Old Round Rock galloped the two frightened horses, Bass reeling in the saddle, Frank Jackson holding him up. Jim Murphy, the traitor, pale, shaken, stricken by we know not what torture of remorse, or, perhaps, none at all, saw the two escaping.
For the rest of that day Bass and Jackson vanished from sight. Posses and Ranger detachments scoured the vicinity, but not until Saturday morning did Rangers find Sam Bass, alone, near death, lying beneath a large oak. He admitted his identity and made no resistance.
Jackson had insisted upon remaining with his dying leader, but Bass—game, unselfish to the last, the cowboys’ ideal now as he had been in brighter days—was equally insistent that Frank save himself. So, having made Bass as comfortable as possible, unwillingly Jackson escaped.
Taken into Round Rock, Bass received the best attention local medicos could administer. But he died on Sunday, July 21st, his twenty-seventh birthday, steadfastly refusing to give the names of associates or friends. Upon the tombstone set to mark his grave was carved the inscription:
SAMUEL BASS
Born July 21st, 1851
Died July 21st, 1878
Frank Jackson, after Sam Bass’ death, asked only for an opportunity to meet the traitor, Jim Murphy. But the latter evaded him and finally committed suicide. So the famous Bass Gang was finally broken up, but the memory of Sam and Frank Jackson, of Sebe Barnes and Arkansas, and of the traitor Murphy, is green today in Texas.