“Old Tex” was standing near by at the time, and the leader turning to him, said,
“I believe we shall want you, too.” The ruffian made an impudent reply, to which the leader simply rejoined,
“You must consider yourself under arrest,”—words whose fearful import he understood too well to disobey.
The other men now emerged from their blankets. They were Alex Carter, Bob Zachary, Whiskey Bill, and Johnny Cooper, and two inoffensive persons who had fallen in with them the evening before, and craved permission to pass the night under their protection. Fortunately, these confiding persons had no money, and escaped assassination; but when told of the character of their entertainers, one of them, pointing to Carter, remarked,
“There’s one good man, anyhow. I knew him on the other side of the mountains, where he was a packer, and there was no better man on the Pacific slope.”
Just at this moment, the leader saw some movement which indicated to him that a rescue of the three prisoners would be attempted by their comrades, and in a loud tone of command, said,
“Every man take his gun and keep it.”
Five men were ordered to search the wakiup, and the others, meanwhile, to keep off intruders. The searchers soon came out with seven dragoon and navy revolvers, nine shotguns, and thirteen rifles, as the fruit of their spoil. Among other weapons was the pistol taken from Leroy Southmayd at the time of the coach robbery described in a previous chapter. Having completed the search and broken up the nest of the marauders, the scouting party started with their prisoners on the return to Nevada. At Dempsey’s they found George Hilderman, who, after offering various excuses, consented, under the mild persuasion of a revolver, to accompany them. The prisoners were disarmed but not bound, nor prevented from riding at pleasure among their captors. A stranger, on seeing or joining with the cavalcade while in motion, would never have supposed that it was an escort with four murderers in charge; nor, from the merry, jovial conversation and song singing of the company, as it rode gayly and rapidly onward, have distinguished the accusers from the accused. Whenever the subject of his offence was mentioned, Ives asserted his innocence, and declared that he would be only too happy to have an opportunity to prove it. With a fair trial by civil authority in Virginia City, he had no fear of the result; but as he once had the misfortune to kill a favorite dog in Nevada, he felt that he would have the prejudices of the people against him if put upon trial there. This idea was elaborated, because if adopted, Plummer, being sheriff, would have the selection of the men from whom the jury would be impanelled. Ives affected great amiability and a ready compliance with every order and request made by his captors. One subject suggested another, and many of the rough and pleasant phases of mountain life passed in review, until that of racing, and the comparative speed of their horses, was introduced. On this theme Ives was specially eloquent, and being mounted on his own pony, which had some local popularity as a racer, he ventured finally to propose a trial of speed with several of the guard, and even challenged them to race with him. After one or two short scrub races, in which he suffered himself to be beaten, the spirit of the race-course seemed suddenly to animate the company, and, one after another, all were soon engaged in the exciting sport. It increased in interest and excitement for several miles, and until within a short distance of Daly’s ranche. At this point, Ives’s horse, which had been kept under before, was now pressed to his utmost speed; and when the party were least prepared for it, they saw him not only as the winner in the race, but leading the cavalcade, and bearing his master away at a fearfully rapid rate over the level stretch towards Daly’s. Instantly, every horse was urged into the pursuit. On rode the desperado, and on followed the now broken column of scouts, two of whom pressed him so closely that he could not stop long enough at the ranche to exchange his pony for his favorite horse, which, by order of some of his friends who had pushed on from the wakiup in advance of the scouts, had been saddled and was standing ready for his use. His pursuers, more fortunate, found a fresh horse and mule standing there, which had come down from Virginia City. These they mounted, and resuming the pursuit, when three miles away from the main road near the Bivans Gulch mountains, they saw the hotly pressed fugitive jump from his exhausted pony, and take refuge among the rocks of an adjacent ravine. Quicker than it can be told, they alighted, and, fresher on foot than the jaded steeds, they were soon standing on the edge of the sheltering hollow. Ives was nowhere visible. Certain that he was near, Burtchy and Jack Wilson plunged into the ravine, and commenced a separate search among the rocks. It was of brief duration, for Burtchy soon discovered him, crouching behind a large bowlder, and directed him to come out and surrender himself.
Ives laughingly obeyed, and in a wheedling manner was approaching Burtchy, who was separated from his comrade, evidently with the purpose of wresting his gun from him. Burtchy understood the movement, and with his eye still coursing the barrel, now but a few feet from the heart it would have been emptied into in a moment more, he said,
“That is far enough, Mr. Ives. Now stand fast, or I shall spill your precious life-blood very quick.”