Friday witnessed the final act in the bloody drama begun by the three police officers, Aucoin, Mora and Cantrelle.  Betrayed into the hands of the police, Charles, who had already sent two of his would-be murderers to their death, made a last stand in a small building, 1210 Saratoga Street, and, still defying his pursuers, fought a mob of twenty thousand people, single-handed and alone, killing three more men, mortally wounding two more and seriously wounding nine others.  Unable to get to him in his stronghold, the besiegers set fire to his house of refuge.  While the building was burning Charles was shooting, and every crack of his death-dealing rifle added another victim to the price which he had placed upon his own life.  Finally, when fire and smoke became too much for flesh and blood to stand, the long sought for fugitive appeared in the door, rifle in hand, to charge the countless guns that were drawn upon him.  With a courage which was indescribable, he raised his gun to fire again, but this time it failed, for a hundred shots riddled his body, and he fell dead face fronting to the mob.  This last scene in the terrible drama is thus described in the Times-Democrat of July 26: 

Early yesterday afternoon, at 3 o’clock or thereabouts, Police Sergeant Gabriel Porteus was instructed by Chief Gaster to go to a house at No. 1210 Saratoga Street, and search it for the fugitive murderer, Robert Charles.  A private “tip” had been received at the headquarters that the fiend was hiding somewhere on the premises.

Sergeant Porteus took with him Corporal John R. Lally and Officers Zeigel and Essey.  The house to which they were directed is a small, double frame cottage, standing flush with Saratoga Street, near the corner of Clio.  It has two street entrances and two rooms on each side, one in front and one in the rear.  It belongs to the type of cheap little dwellings commonly tenanted by Negroes.

Sergeant Porteus left Ziegel and Essey to guard the outside and went with Corporal Lally to the rear house, where he found Jackson and his wife in the large room on the left.  What immediately ensued is only known by the Negroes.  They say the sergeant began to question them about their lodgers and finally asked them whether they knew anything about Robert Charles.  They strenuously denied all knowledge of his whereabouts.

The Negroes lied.  At that very moment the hunted and desperate murderer lay concealed not a dozen feet away.  Near the rear, left-hand corner of the room is a closet or pantry, about three feet deep, and perhaps eight feet long.  The door was open and Charles was crouching, Winchester in hand, in the dark further end.

Near the closet door was a bucket of water, and Jackson says that Sergeant Porteous walked toward it to get a drink.  At the next moment a shot rang out and the brave officer fell dead.  Lally