Gen. Cook went out alone, having confidence in his ability to cope with Meyers, should he overtake him, notwithstanding that individual was a young man weighing two hundred pounds, and a desperado, as had been shown by his recent acts. He, of course, went well armed, carrying a pair of revolvers and a derringer with him, for he felt that the chances were that the man would make a desperate fight if he should not succeed in getting the drop on him in making the arrest. He argued that the man who would shoot down a defenseless man and woman, as Meyers had done, must expect to be pursued; that he must expect to be severely dealt with if caught, and that for these reasons he would resist to the last if come up with by an officer.
The trip south was almost devoid of incident. The fugitive had a day’s start of the officer, but the latter had not been long on the road before he began to pick up information as to the course the man had taken. Several persons had seen him riding along, and readily recognized him from the description which Cook furnished.
The tragedy had occurred on Thursday night, Meyers leaving on Friday morning and Gen. Cook following Saturday morning. Saturday night about 11 o’clock Cook ended his pursuit, and had the satisfaction of having his theory as to the course the murderer had taken verified by suddenly overtaking him at a place called Woodbury’s, twenty-five miles north of Pueblo, where the fellow was waiting to take the same coach that Cook came in on, in pursuance of his journey. The capture was an easy one, although Cook had prepared for a death struggle, which might have ensued if Meyers had not been “caught napping.” Previous to leaving he had telegraphed to parties at Colorado City and Pueblo to be on the alert for the escaping murderer. It was known that Meyers had chosen that route. The officer in question felt virtually assured of being able to overtake his man. Meyers had stopped at Woodbury’s, and was awaiting the arrival of the coach from Denver. He was discovered to be partially intoxicated. News of the murder had preceded him; he was immediately suspected; and when he retired, to sleep until the arrival of the coach, the caps were removed from his shotgun and he was dispossessed of his pistol. The coach brought the sheriff, and the murderer was awakened by the officer who was standing over him with a revolver, and to find himself a prisoner, instead of a passenger to Pueblo.
The accommodations at Woodbury’s were insufficient, and there was also some fear that if the prisoner should be allowed to remain there he might be lynched, as the story of his crime had gotten out. Hence Cook decided to go on to Pueblo and to take his prisoner with him, with the intention of starting on his return the next morning. Putting this plan into execution, Meyers was tied with ropes and lifted into the coach, the officer carrying a lighted candle that he might keep a close watch upon his prisoner. They had as fellow travelers a lady and a gentleman, and it may be easily imagined that the woman did not enjoy the prospect of her ride. Her fears were, however, assuaged by the assurance of Gen. Cook that there was no danger, an assurance to which his firm bearing added great weight with her.
Once in the coach, but not before, Meyers demanded to know why he had been arrested. When told of the charge that was made against him he at first denied it, but asked where Cook had gotten the information.
“From the woman you tried to kill at the time you killed Bonacina.”
“The woman! Ain’t she dead?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, it’s not my fault if she isn’t. She would have been, though, if my plans had not miscarried.”
“What were your plans?”