While on his return for trial in the Spring of 1863, leave was obtained from the proper authorities at Portland, Oregon, to confine him in the penitentiary there until provision could be made to secure him safely at Florence. There I will leave him for the present, as, after accompanying me thus far through the horrible narrative of his adventures, my readers doubtless, now that he is fairly within the sharp fangs of the law, hope soon to learn that justice has finally overtaken him, and that the world is freed from his further depredations.
Three brothers of Boone Helm came to the Pacific coast between 1848 and 1850. They all died violent deaths. At the time of the return of Boone Helm to Florence for trial for the murder of Dutch Fred, one of these brothers, familiarly called “Old Tex,” was engaged in mining in the Boise diggings, two hundred miles south of Florence. He had a good reputation for honesty, liberality, and courage. He was, moreover, a man of eccentric character. It is told of him that in one of the mining towns he threatened to shoot on sight a person with whom he had a personal difficulty. His enemy hearing of this, swore to reciprocate the intention upon the first opportunity. A chance soon after offering to carry his threat into execution, he said to Old Tex, as he presented his pistol to fire,
“Tex, I heard that you said that you’d shoot me on sight.”
Looking around, Tex replied, “Well, didn’t you say you would shoot me, too?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well, why don’t you do it then? All you’ve got to do is to pull that trigger, and that’s the last of Old Tex.”
This stoical bravery won the admiration of the man and defeated his bloody purpose.
“Tex,” said he, “I don’t want to kill you.”
“Do you mean that?” asked Tex.
“I do.”