In the middle of the afternoon, the party reached Henderson, where the owner of the team stayed with friends, while the four horsemen rode rapidly on to Shakopee, which they reached late in the evening.
The news of the outbreak had already reached the town and the people were much excited, although no hostile Indians had been seen in the neighborhood.
On the following day, Wednesday, August 20th, the four horsemen saw no hostile Indians. There were no telegraph lines in those days west and southwest of St. Paul, but the news of the outbreak had reached St. Paul by special messenger, on Tuesday, the day after it started.
Barker and his party did not follow the usual road from Shakopee to St. Paul, but traveled along old Indian trails and by-paths with which Barker was well acquainted. Near the old inn which stood just west of the Bloomington bridge across the Minnesota, they rested in the woods until evening, for it was Barker’s intention to reach St. Paul after dark.
“I doubt not,” explained the trapper to Tatanka, “that Hicks, if he is alive, is already on our trail. He is certainly going to look for the boys and myself at St. Paul, and he will most likely strike the road between this place and St. Paul. If we travel on this road in the daytime, we shall meet so many people that it would be an easy thing to follow us. Everybody would remember you and me and the small boy with the raccoon, so we must stay here, until after dark.”
It was shortly after midnight on Thursday morning, that the travelers reached St. Paul. Old Joe, the hostler, at one of the outlying taverns, was not a little surprised to see his friend Barker appear at this hour of the day.
“Hello, Sam,” he exclaimed, as he shook the old man’s hand, “I’m powerful glad to see you. Only last night I was saying to the boys, ‘This time they surely got Sam’s scalp.’ Mighty glad I am, they didn’t.”
The horses were soon put in their stalls and Meetcha was locked up in an empty grain-box with some kitchen scraps and a pan of water.
“He will wash bones, wash bones, until daylight.” Tatanka laughed.
“Now, Joe,” said Barker, as the men were seated in the small lobby of the tavern and after the boys had gone to bed, “here is a chance for you to show that you are my friend. Don’t tell anybody that we are here. A lanky, squint-eyed cuss with a scar on his forehead may show up inquiring for us. Don’t put him on.”