Nothing was said about the real object of their visit, until the horses were saddled for the apparent purpose of continuing the journey. Two only went out at a time, and the mute eloquence of the shot-guns in the corner was as effective in the morning as it had been at midnight.
When all was ready, one of the party asked who was the unknown sleeper that, at that late hour, had never waked or uncovered his face. The host said that he did not know; but upon being asked, “when did he come here?” he informed them that he had come at the beginning of the great snow storm, and had been there two days.
The man was requested to describe his person and appearance. He complied at once, and in so doing, he gave a perfect picture of Bill Hunter.
With arms prepared for instant service, the Vigilantes approached the bed, and the leader called out, “Bill Hunter!” The occupant of the bed hastily drew the covering from his face, and wildly asked who was there. His eyes were greeted with the sight of six well armed men, whose determined countenances and stern looks told him only too truly the nature of their errand. Had he been in doubt, however, this matter would soon have been settled; for the six shot-guns leveled at his head were answer enough to palsy the arm of grim despair himself. On being asked if he had any arms, he said, “Yes, I have a revolver;” and accordingly, he handed it from beneath the bed-clothes, where he had held it, lying on his breast, ready cocked for use. The old Vigilanter who made the inquiries, not being very soft or easily caught at a disadvantage, took the precaution when approaching him, to lay his hand on his breast, so that, had he been willing, he could have done nothing; for his weapon was mastered while his hand was covered. He was, of course, informed that he was a prisoner, upon hearing which he at once asked to be taken to Virginia City. One of the men gave him to understand that he would be taken there. He further inquired whether there was any conveyance for him, and was told that there was a horse for him to ride.
He rose from his bed, ready dressed for the occasion except his overcoat and hat, and mounted the horse prepared for him; but upon preparing to take the rein, his motion was politely negatived, and the bridle was handed to a horseman who held it as a leading bridle. He looked suspiciously round, and appeared much perturbed when he saw a footman following, for he at once guessed that it was his horse that he was riding, and the incident seemed to be regarded by him in the light of an omen foreboding a short journey for him. His conscience told him that what was likely to be the end of his arrest. The real reason why an evasive answer had been given to the prisoner, when he expressed a wish to be taken to Virginia City, was that his captors were anxious to leave the place without exciting suspicion of any intention to execute Bill Hunter, in the neighborhood.
The escort proceeded on their way homewards, for about two miles, and halted at the foot of a tree which seemed as if it had been fashioned by nature for a gallows. A horizontal limb at a convenient height was there for the rope, and on the trunk was a spur like a belaying pin, on which to fasten the end. Scraping away about a foot of snow, they camped, lit a fire and prepared their breakfast. An onlooker would never have conjectured for a moment, that anything of a serious nature was likely to occur, and even Hunter seemed to have forgotten his fears, laughing and chatting gaily with the rest.
After breakfast, a consultation was held as to what should be done with the Road Agent, and after hearing what was offered by the members of the scouting party, individually, the leader put the matter to vote. It was decided by the majority that the prisoner should not go to Virginia; but that he should be executed then and there. The man who had given Hunter to understand that he would be taken to Virginia, voted for the carrying out of this part of the programme; but he was overruled.
The earnest manner of the Vigilantes, and his own sense of guilt, overpowered Hunter; he turned deadly pale, and faintingly asked for water. He knew, without being told that there was no hope for him. A brief history of his crimes was related to him by one of the men, and the necessity of the enforcement of the penalty was pointed out to him. All was too true for denial. He merely requested that his friends should know nothing of the manner of his death, and stated that he had no property; but he hoped they would give him a decent burial. He was told that every reasonable request would be granted; but that the ground was too hard for them to attempt his interment without proper implements. They promised that his friends should be made acquainted with his execution, and that they would see to that. Soon after, he shook hands with each of the company, and said that he did not blame them for what they were about to do.
His arms were pinioned at the elbows; the fatal noose was placed round his neck, and the end of the rope being thrown over the limb, the men took hold and with a quick, strong pull, ran him up off his feet. He died almost without a struggle; but, strange to say, he reached as if for his pistol, and went through the pantomime of cocking and discharging his revolver six times. This is no effort of fancy. Every one present saw it, and was equally convinced of the fact. It was a singular instance of “the ruling passion, strong in death.”
The place of the execution was a lone tree, in full view of the travellers on the trail, about twenty miles above the mouth of the Gallatin. The corpse of the malefactor was left hanging from the limb, and the little knot of horsemen was soon but a speck in the distance. The purpose of the Barney Hughes stampede had been accomplished. So secretly had everything been managed that one of their four who started from Virginia did not know either the real destination of the party, or the errand of the other three. He was found to be sound on the Road Agent question; and, instead of being dismissed he rode on as one of the party.