Many persons who were attracted to the spot where this bloody
work had just taken place, looked bewildered and seemed to be asking
themselves what was to happen next, appearing in doubt as to whether
the killing mania had reached its climax, or whether we were to turn
in and have a grand killing spell, shooting whoever might have given
us offence. It was whispered around that it was not all over yet
--five or six more were to be killed before night. Reeder was taken
to the Virginia City Hotel, and doctors called in to examine his
wounds. They found that two or three balls had entered his right
side; one of them appeared to have passed through the substance of
the lungs, while another passed into the liver. Two balls were also
found to have struck one of his legs. As some of the balls struck
the cask, the wounds in Reeder's leg were probably from these,
glancing downwards, though they might have been caused by the second
shot fired. After being shot, Reeder said when he got on his feet
--smiling as he spoke--"It will take better shooting than that to
kill me." The doctors consider it almost impossible for him to
recover, but as he has an excellent constitution he may survive,
notwithstanding the number and dangerous character of the wounds he
has received.
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