At the Station near the camp, the party met two friends, who told them that Red was at Rattlesnake, and volunteers were called for to go in pursuit of him. A small party of picked men started, and followed up this rapid horseman, enduring on their march great hardships from the inclemency of the weather. The open air restaurant of the main body was not furnished with any great variety in the line of provisions. Sometimes the meal was bread and bacon—minus the bacon; and sometimes bacon and bread—minus the bread. Some choice spirits did venture, occasionally, on a song or a jest; but these jocular demonstrations were soon checked by the freezing of the beard and moustaches. The disconsolate troopers slapped their arms to keep themselves warm; but it was a melancholy and empty embrace, giving about as much warmth and comfort as the dream begotten memory of one loved and lost.
In the meantime the little party of volunteers wended their toilsome way through the deep snow, and riding till midnight, journeyed as far as Stone’s Ranch. Here they obtained remounts from the stock of Oliver & Co., and then resumed their cheerless progress towards Rattlesnake, at which place they arrived, after a ride of twenty miles. One of the party afterwards confidentially observed that “It was cold enough to freeze the tail of a brass monkey,” which observation had at least the merit of being highly metaphorical and forcibly descriptive.
The ranch was surrounded and one of the party entering, discovered Buck Stinson, Ned Ray, and a prisoner, whom, as Deputy Sheriffs (?), they had arrested. Stinson, who had a strong antipathy towards the gentleman who entered first, appeared, revolver in hand; but finding that the “drop” was falling the wrong way, restrained his bellicose propensities, and, eventually, not being able to fathom the whole purpose of his unwelcome visitor, who amused him with a fictitious charge of horse stealing against Red, set free his prisoner, on his promise to go and surrender himself up, and, much moved in spirit, made his horse do all he knew about galloping, on his road to Bannack City.
The party, who knew where to look for their man, rode straight for a wakiup a few hundred yards up the creek, and surrounded it instantly, their guns bearing on it. One of them dismounted, and throwing open the flap, entered with the amicable remark, “It’s a mighty cold night; won’t you let a fellow warm himself?” Seeing Red, he further remarked, “You’re the man I’m seeking; come along with me.”
The captive seemed perfectly unconcerned; he was as iron-nerved a man as ever leveled a shot-gun at a coach. He was told that he was wanted to go to Virginia; but he asked no questions. From his arrest till the moment of his execution, he seemed possessed with the idea that it was his fate to be taken then and there, and that his doom was irrevocably sealed. They stayed all night at the ranch, Red going to bed with his boots on, “all standing,” as the sailors say.
The next morning they got up their horses, Red—unarmed, of course—riding his own. One trooper rode beside him all the time; the remainder were strung out on the road, like beads. While loping along, the mule of the leader stumbled and rolled over, making two or three complete somersaults before he fetched up; but the snow was so deep that no great harm was done, and a merry laugh enlivened the spirits of the party. The escort safely brought their prisoner to Dempsey’s Ranch, where they overtook and rejoined the main body that had camped there for two days, awaiting their coming. The demeanor of the captive was cheerful, and he was quite a pleasant companion. He asked no questions relative to his arrest, and rode from Rattlesnake to Dempsey’s as if on a pleasure excursion, behaving in a most courteous and gentlemanly manner all the time, and this, be it remembered, with the conviction that his hours were numbered, and that the blood of his victims was about to be avenged. After reporting the capture of Yager, the party took supper and went to bed.
There was in the house, at this time, the secretary—Brown—who had written the letter warning his comrades to fly from Cottonwood, and which missive Red had carried only too speedily. He acted as bar-keeper and man of all work at the ranch. This individual was the very opposite of Yager, in all respects. He was cowardly and had never worked on the road, but had always done his best to assist the gang, as an outsider, with information calculated to ensure the stoppage of treasure laden victims. He was in the habit of committing minor felonies and of appearing as a straw witness, when needed.
After breakfast, the two men were confronted. Brown—who had evidently suspected danger, ever since the arrival of the Vigilantes—was greatly terrified. Red was as cool and collected as a veteran on parade. Previously to the two robbers being confronted, the captain took Red into a private room, and told him that he was suspected of being in league with a band of Road Agents and murderers. He denied the charge altogether. The captain then asked him why—if he was innocent—should he take such pains to inform the gang that the Vigilantes were after them? He said that he came along to Bob’s, on his way to Deer Lodge, and that Brown asked him to carry a letter along to Aleck Carter and some friends, and that having said he would do so, he did it. The two men were called up to the bar, and there Red again admitted the carrying of the letter which Brown had written. Brown having told his examiners that he had seen one of their number before, and knew him, was asked what sort of a man was the one he referred to. He replied that he took him to be a half-breed. The Vigilanter, who had come in, heard the description, and ejaculating, “You ——, you call de Dutchmans half-breeds, you do, do you?” made at him with his fists; but his comrades almost choking with laughter, held him off the horrified Brown, whose fear of instantaneous immolation at the hands of the fiery Dutchlander had blanched his cheek to a turnip color.
The captain then told Brown that he must consider himself under arrest, and remain there. He was taken out to Dempsey’s house and kept there till the examination and trial of Red was concluded. Being then brought in and questioned, he testified that Red came to Dempsey’s and said that he was going to see the boys, and asked if Brown had anything to tell them, offering to carry the letter. He said that Red was Ives’ cousin, (this was untrue;) that he wrote the letter advising them to leave, for that the Vigilantes were after them.
At Smith’s Ranch it had been found, on comparing notes, that the statements of Red to the successive portions of the command that he had met while crossing the Divide, were not consistent, and, as frequently happens, the attempt at deception had served only to bring out the truth. Red was incontrovertibly proven to be one of the gang. The confession of each man conclusively established the guilt of the other.