The struggle, though brief, was desperate and bloody. The outlaws never thought of begging mercy. They knew that it would be denied them, and so, fighting, they died. An hour—then the band was annihilated.
The next day a strange cavalcade left the Retreat. Horses and cattle were heavily loaded down with plunder. In a comfortable litter rode Lottie Mitchell. Beside her was Joe Burleson. Poor fellow, he was happy then. But his awakening came soon enough, though his love deserved better reward.
In safety they reached Fort Laramie. And then Lottie was taken ill, and only awoke to life again when winter had snow-bound all within the fort.
And, oh! the joy that awaited her then! The form that first met her conscious gaze, worn and pale with long and constant watching, was that of Burr Wythe!
This fact is easily explained.
The "pocket" of gold eventually gave out, or afforded so little reward that it was not deemed worth while wintering there. So Paul Chicot—now fully recovered—and Duplin contrived to capture a sufficient number of horses and mules from those that had escaped to the hills during the attack on the outlaws' retreat, to mount the party and convey their precious gold. Chicot guided them aright to Fort Laramie, though the most of their gold wad securely cached among the hills where it would be safe. Then they entered the fort. There they first heard the fate of the train they had abandoned, and found Lottie Mitchell, the sole survivor, besides themselves.
Burr was prepared to meet Lottie's words concerning the murder of poor Hefler. Upshur had confessed to the deed, and Chicot could bear witness to it. And then, though there was little need of the words, he confessed his love. And Lottie?
Well, she gained in health and spirits so amazingly, that long before the snow began to disappear before the warm breath of spring, there was a double wedding at the old fort, that occasioned more pure, heartfelt joy, as well as boisterous fun and jollity, than ever before marked its annals.
And then, when the green grass began to appear, a small cavalcade took its departure from Laramie, heading toward the rising sun. At nightfall Duplin and Chicot rode back and opened their cache, bringing with them its precious contents.
Never was a more delightful trip than that, but our space forbids a detailed description. They reached "the States" in safety. Paul Chicot settled at St. Joseph, Mo., and entered into the fur trade. He still lives.