Bullets slammed through the thin walls of the stagecoach office as the frightened passengers huddled together. The man they knew as John Wells told them to stay away from the windows. Then he stepped outside and quietly faced Jim Malachy and his drunken, rioting mob, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. He told Malachy to drop the guns. Somewhere in the crowd a voice rang out, shrill with fear. "It's Bonniwell! John Bonniwell. He's alive! "