With Farley and Green, who were close at
hand, I took my prisoner three miles down the Platte. There we
dismounted, and began preparations to hang our prisoner to a limb. We
informed him that he could escape this fate only by telling us where
his partner was hidden.
He at first denied having any partner, but when we gave him five
minutes to live unless he told the truth, he said his pal was in an
unoccupied house three miles farther down the river.
We took up our journey, and, coming in sight of the house, saw a number
of animals grazing near it. As we rode to the door, another of our old
packers, whom I recognized as Bill Bevins, stepped to the front door. I
instantly covered him with my rifle and ordered him to throw up his
hands before he could draw his revolver.
Looking through the house, we found saddles, pack-saddles, lariats,
blankets, overcoats, and two Henry rifles. We returned with the whole
outfit to Denver, where we lodged Williams and Bevins in jail. The next
day we tied each man to a mule and started on the return journey.
At the hotel where we had stopped before making the arrests, we were
joined by our man with the pack mule. That night we camped on Cherry
Creek, seventeen miles from Denver.
It was April, and the weather was cold and stormy. We found a warm and
cozy camping-place in the bend of the creek. We made our beds in a
row--feet to the fire.
Pages:
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180