The ruffian sunk upon his blankets in despair. He felt that he was in the keeping of one who never slept on duty. Still the hope of escape was uppermost. Seeing a camp by the roadside, he naturally concluded that it belonged to a company of his comrades, and commenced shouting and singing to attract their attention. As no response followed and no rescuers appeared, he soon became silent and despondent.
This trip of three days’ duration, with the thermometer thirty-five degrees below zero, and no other food than the shank of a small ham, uniting with it the risk of assassination and personal contest with robbers, exposure to an arctic atmosphere, and starvation, while it bore ample testimony to the moral intrepidity and physical endurance of Howie and Fetherstun, and marked them for a pursuit which they ever after followed, was also rife with associations which bound these brave spirits in a friendship that only death could sever. It is no injustice to any of the early citizens of Montana to say that, not less for its present exemption from crime and misrule than for the active and vigilant measures which, in its early history, visited the ruffians with punishment, and frightened villainy from its boundaries, is the Territory indebted to the efficient coöperative labors of these self-sacrificing, heroic men. They were pioneers who deserve to rank in future history with such men as Boone and Kenton; and long after the names of many now oftener mentioned in connection with circumstances of trifling import are forgotten, theirs will be remembered and honored. Noble Howie! how short a time it seems since he was cut down in the very prime of his manhood, upon the distant shores of Guiana. Many, many years must pass before the memory of his heroic actions, his genial nature, his warm, impulsive friendship, will be forgotten by those who knew and loved him in his mountain home.
To return to the narrative. When the captors had arrived at Horse Prairie, twelve miles from Bannack, Fetherstun encamped with the prisoner, while Howie rode on to the town to reconnoitre. Fears were entertained that the roughs would attempt a rescue. It was understood that if Howie did not return in three hours, Fetherstun should take the prisoner into town. Accordingly, he proceeded with him without molestation to Sears’s Hotel. Soon afterwards Howie, meeting Plummer, said to him,
“I have captured Dutch John, and he is now in my custody at Sears’s Hotel.”
“You have?” replied Plummer with a leer. “What is the charge against him?”
“Attacking Moody’s train.”
“Well, I suppose you are willing he should be tried by the civil authorities. This new way our people have of hanging men without law or evidence isn’t exactly the thing. It’s time a stop was put to it. I’ll take John into my custody as sheriff, and relieve you from all further responsibility.”
“Not exactly, Plummer,” replied Howie. “I shall keep John until the people’s tribunal decides whether they want him or not. I’ve had a good deal of trouble in bringing him here, and don’t intend he shall escape, if I can help it.”
After a few more words they separated. Meantime Fetherstun had left Sears’s Hotel with his prisoner, and gone down the street to Durand’s saloon. Fetherstun, being an entire stranger, kept close watch of his prisoner. They sat down at a table and engaged in a game at cards. Howie came in, and warned Fetherstun to be on the alert for a rescue, promising to return in a few minutes. Buck Stinson and Ned Ray soon after made their appearance, and shook hands with John. They were followed by four or five others, and the number finally increased to fifteen. Fetherstun’s suspicions, excited from the first, were confirmed on seeing one of the men step up to John, and say in an authoritative voice,
“You are my prisoner”; which remark was followed by a glance and a smile by the ruffian, as much as to say, “I’m safe now, and your time has come.”