Two of the party went over to Tex, who was engaged in the highly necessary operation of changing his shirt. “I believe we shall want you too,” said one of them; Tex denuded himself of his under garment, and throwing it towards Tom Baume, exclaimed, “There’s my old shirt and plenty of graybacks. You’d better arrest them too.” He was politely informed that he himself, but neither the shirt nor its population, was the object of this “unconstitutional restraint,” and was asked if the pistols lying on the ground were his, which he admitted, and was thereupon told that they were wanted, also, and that he must consider himself “under arrest”—a technical, yet simple, formula adopted by mountaineers, to assure the individual addressed that his brains will, without further warning, be blown out, if he should attempt to make a “break.” Tex dressed himself and awaited further developments.
There appeared to be a belief on the part of both Tex and Ives that they should get off; but when they saw the party with Long John, they appeared cast down, and said no more.
The other men who were lying round the wakiup, when the scouting party rode up, were Aleck Carter, Bob Zachary, Whiskey Bill, Johnny Cooper, and two innocent strangers, whose prolonged tenure of life can only be accounted for by the knowledge of the circumstance that they were without money at the time. Of the fact of the connection of the others with the band, the boys were ignorant, and were drinking coffee with them, laying down their guns within the reach of the robbers, on their bed clothes. Had the Road Agents possessed the nerve to make the experiment, they could have blown them to pieces. One of the party, pointing to Aleck Carter, said to the leader, “There’s one good man among them, any way. I knew him on the ‘other side,’” (west of the Mountains.) The captain’s view of the state of things was not altered by this flattering notice. He sang out, in a tone of voice that signified “something’s up,” “Every man take his gun and keep it.” In after expeditions, he had no need to repeat the command. Five men were sent into the wakiup, and the rest stood round it. The result of their search was the capture of seven dragoon and navy revolvers, nine shot-guns and thirteen rifles. These were brought out, and in laying them down, one of them went off close to Tom Baume’s head. Leroy Southmayde’s pistol—taken from him at the time of the robbery of the coach—was one of the weapons. It was recognized at the trial of Ives, by the number upon it. About half an inch of the muzzle had been broken off, and it had then been fixed up smoothly.
All being now ready, the party started for Dempsey’s, and George, who was mounted on his spotted bob-tailed pony, went along with them. He had determined to escape and in order to carry out his design, he expressed a wish to try the speed of his horse against the others, and challenged several to race with him. This was foolishly permitted, and, but for the accidental frustration of his design to procure a remount of unsurpassed speed, a score of names might have been added to the long list of his murdered victims.
At Dempsey’s Ranch there was a bridge in course of construction, and two of the men riding ahead, saw George Hilderman, standing on the center, at work. He was asked if his name was George Hilderman, and replied “Yes,” whereupon he was informed that he was wanted to go up to Virginia City. He inquired whether they had any papers for him, and being told that they had not any, he declared that he would not leave the spot; but the leader coming up, told him to go “Without any foolishness,” in a manner that satisfied him of the inutility of resistence, and he prepared to accompany them; but not as a volunteer, by any means. He said he had no horse. Tom Baume offered him a mule. Then he had no saddle. The same kind friend found one, and he had to ride with them. His final effort was couched in the form of a declaration that the beast would not go. A stick was lying on the ground, and he received an instruction, as the conventions word it, either to “whip and ride,” or “walk and drive.” This practically speaking, reconciled him to the breach of the provisions of Magna Charta and the Bill of Rights involved in his arrest, and he jogged along, if not comfortably, yet, at all events, in peace.
In the meantime, the arch villain in custody of the main body was playing his ROLE with much skill and with complete success. He declared his entire innocence of the awful crime with which he was charged, and rather insinuated than expressed his wish that he might be taken to Virginia, where his friends were, and that he might be tried by civil authorities, (Plummer to empannel the jury,) and incidentally remarked that he should not like to be tried at Nevada, for that he once killed a dog there, which had scared his horse, and for that reason, they had prejudices against him, which might work him serious injury in the event of his trial at that place.
There is no doubt that the seeming alacrity with which he apparently yielded to the persuasions of his captors, threw them off their guard, and he was permitted to ride unarmed, but otherwise unrestrained, along with the escort.
So large a troop of horsemen never yet rode together, mounted on fleet cayuses, on the magnificent natural roads of Montana, without yielding to the temptation presented to try the comparative merits of their horses, and our company of partizan police were no exception to this rule. Scrub races were the order of the day, until, in one of them, Geo. Ives, who was the winner, attracted the attention of the whole party, by continuing his race at the top of his horse’s speed; but not until he was at least ten rods ahead of the foremost rider, did the guard (?) realize the fact that the bird had flown from the open cage. Twenty-four pairs of spurs were driven home, into the flanks of twenty-four horses, and with a clatter of hoofs never since equalled on that road, except when the deluded cavalry of Virginia rode down the valley:
“To see the savage fray;”
or at the reception given to the Hon. J. M. Ashley and party—they swept on like a headlong rout.