"The horses, saddles and bridles from the stable—quick!"
The huntsman hurried to the stable and took Wilkinson's horse.
It was two o'clock before they reached the home of James Harris on the other side of the Pottawattomie. Harris lived on the highway and kept a rude frontier boarding place where travelers stopped for the night.
With him lived Dutch Henry Sherman and his brother, William.
Brown had no difficulty in entering this humble one-room house. It was never locked. The latch string was outside.
Without knocking Brown lifted the latch and sprang into the room with his son, Owen, and another armed huntsman.
He surveyed the room. In one bed lay Harris, his wife and child. In two other beds were three men, William Sherman, John Whitman and a stranger who had stopped for the night and had given no name.
"You are our prisoners," Brown announced. "It is useless for you to resist."
The old man stood by one bed with drawn saber and Owen stood by the other while Weiner searched the room. He found two rifles and a bowie knife which he passed through the door to the guard outside.
Brown ordered the stranger out first. He kept him but a few minutes and brought him back. He next ordered Harris to follow him.