A guard was placed over the two men and the remainder of the Vigilantes went out on the bridge and took a vote upon the question as to whether the men should be executed or liberated. The captain said, “All those in favor of hanging those two men step to the right side of the road, and those who are for letting them go, stand on the left.” Before taking the vote he had observed to them, “Now, boys, you have heard all about this matter, and I want you to vote according to your consciences. If you think they ought to suffer punishment, say so. If you think they ought to go free vote for it.” The question having been put, the entire command stepped over to the right side, and the doom of the robbers was sealed.
One of the party, who had been particularly lip-courageous now began to weaken, and discovered that he should lose $2,000 if he did not go home at once. Persuasion only paled his lips, and he started off. The click! click! click! of four guns, however, so far directed his fears into an even more personal channel, that he concluded to stay.
The culprits were informed that they should be taken to Virginia, and were given in charge to a trustworthy and gallant man, with a detachment of seven, selected from the whole troop. This escort reached Lorraine’s in two hours. The rest of the men arrived at sun down. The prisoners were given up, and the leader of the little party, who had not slept for four or five nights, lay down to snatch a brief, but welcome repose. About 10 P. M., he was awakened, and the significant, “We want you,” announced “business.”
The tone and manner of the summons at once dispelled even his profound and sorely needed slumber. He rose without further parley and went from the parlor to the bar-room where Red and Brown were lying in a corner, asleep. Red got up at the sound of his footsteps, and said, “You have treated me like a gentleman, and I know I am going to die—I am going to be hanged.” “Indeed,” said his quondam custodian, “that’s pretty rough.” In spite of a sense of duty, he felt what he said deeply. “It is pretty rough,” continued Yager, “but I merited this, years ago. What I want to say is that I know all about the gang, and there are men in it that deserve this more than I do; but I should die happy if I could see them hanged, or know that it would be done. I don’t say this to get off. I don’t want to get off.” He was told that it would be better if he should give all the information in his possession, if only for the sake of his kind. Times had been very hard, and “you know, Red,” said the Vigilanter, “that men have been shot down in broad day light—not for money, or even for hatred, but for LUCK, and it must be put a stop to.”
To this he assented, and the captain being called, all that had passed was stated to him. He said that the prisoner had better begin at once, and his words should be taken down. Red began by informing them that Plummer was chief of the band; Bill Bunton second in command and stool pigeon; Sam Bunton, roadster, (sent away for being a drunkard;) Cyrus Skinner, roadster, fence and spy. At Virginia City, George Ives, Steven Marshland, Dutch John (Wagner,) Aleck Carter, Whiskey Bill, (Graves,) were roadsters; Geo. Shears was a roadster and horse-thief; Johnny Cooper and Buck Stinson were also roadsters; Ned Bay was council-room keeper at Bannack City; Mexican Frank and Bob Zachary were also roadsters; Frank Parish was roadster and horse-thief; Boon Helm and Club-Foot George were roadsters; Haze Lyons and Bill Hunter were roadsters and telegraph men; George Lowry, Billy Page, Doc Howard, Jem Romaine, Billy Terwilliger and Gad Moore were roadsters. The pass-word was “Innocent.” They wore a neck-tie fastened with a “sailor’s knot,” and shaved down to moustache and chin whiskers. He admitted that he was one of the gang; but denied—as they invariably did—that he was a murderer. He also stated that Brown—his fellow captive—acted in the capacity before mentioned.
He spoke of Bill Bunton with a fierce animosity quite unlike his usual suave and courteous manner. To him, he said, he owed his present miserable position. He it was that first seduced him to commit crime, at Lewiston. He gave the particulars of the robberies of the coaches and of many other crimes, naming the perpetrators. As these details have been already supplied or will appear in the course of the narrative, they are omitted, in order to avoid a useless repetition.
After serious reflection, it had been decided that the two culprits should be executed forthwith, and the dread preparations were immediately made for carrying out the resolution.
The trial of George Ives had demonstrated most unquestionably that no amount of certified guilt was sufficient to enlist popular sympathy exclusively on the side of justice, or to render the just man other than a mark for vengeance. The majority of men sympathize, in spite of the voice of reason, with the murderers instead of the victims; a course of conduct which appears to us inexplicable, though we know it to be common. Every fibre of our frame vibrates with anger and disgust when we meet a ruffian, a murderer or a marauder. Mawkish sentimentalism we abhor. The thought of murdered victims, dishonored females, plundered wayfarers, burning houses, and the rest of the sad evidences of villainy, completely excludes mercy from our view. Honor, truth and the sacrifice of self to considerations of justice and the good of mankind—these claim, we had almost said our adoration; but for the low, brutal, cruel, lazy, ignorant, insolent, sensual and blasphemous miscreants that infest the frontiers, we entertain but one sentiment—aversion—deep, strong, and unchangeable. For such cases, the rope is the only prescription that avails as a remedy. But, though such feelings must be excited in the minds of good citizens, when brought face to face with such monsters as Stinson, Helm, Gallagher, Ives, Skinner, or Graves, the calm courage and penitent conduct of Erastus Yager have the opposite effect, and the loss of the goodly vessel thus wrecked forever, must inspire sorrow, though it may not and ought not to disarm justice.
Brief were the preparations needed. A lantern and some stools were brought from the house, and the party, crossing the creek behind Lorraine’s Ranch, made for the trees that still bear the marks of the axe which trimmed off the superfluous branches. On the road to the gallows, Red was cool, calm and collected. Brown sobbed and cried for mercy, and prayed God to take care of his wife and family in Minnesota. He was married to a squaw. Red, overhearing him, said, sadly but firmly, “Brown, if you had thought of this three years ago, you would not be here now, or give these boys this trouble.”
After arriving at the fatal trees, they were pinioned and stepped on to the stools, which had been placed one on the other to form a drop. Brown and the man who was adjusting the rope, tottered and fell into the snow; but recovering himself quickly, the Vigilanter said quietly, “Brown we must do better than that.”