Movatterモバイル変換

HUNTED DOWN:

OR

Five Days in the Fog.

A Thrilling Narrative

OF THE

ESCAPE OF YOUNG GRANICE

FROM A

DRUNKEN, INFURIATED MOB.

Written by himself while in jail, and respectfully
dedicated to Mr. Nicholas Breen.

SAN FRANCISCO:

WOMAN'S PUBLISHING CO., 605 WASHINGTON ST.

1875.

PREFACE.

I write this narrative while confined in the Modesto jail awaiting mytrial for the shooting of the defamer of my mother's name on the 7thof December, 1874. It will be seen by reading the following statement,that I gave myself up to the sheriff to be held to await the decisionof the law. I will here explain why it was necessary for me to betaken to the Modesto jail. There was no safe jail at Merced, and ithad been the custom for several months to take Merced prisoners toModesto, a town in the adjoining county, and a distance of about fortymiles. The cars passed through Merced about noon on the day of theshooting, five hours after the affair happened, and direct to Modesto.Why did not the sheriff improve this opportunity of taking me to aplace of safety? Failing in that, a good span of horses could haveconveyed us to Modesto during the afternoon. He knew the jail was notsafe, and instead of doing what every sensible man would conceive tobe a sheriff's duty, he chose rather to send me out handcuffed, withtwo men, on a public highway, to a lone wayside inn, seven miles fromMerced, and ten from Snellings. It seems from my brother's and severalother gentlemen's statement, that every horse was engaged at thelivery stable in Merced before eight o'clock on that night.

There is another question which will naturally arise in the thinkingmind: Where did the sheriff go, and what was he doing that night whilethe mob was getting ready? The mystery may be solved some day.

I wish to show in this simple statement that I did not fleecoward-like from justice, but that I was making my escape from adrunken infuriated mob, after being duly liberated by the deputysheriff. I understand that the mob, or a portion of the mob that nightreturned and destroyed my step-father's printing office, although thesheriff was in town.

H. H. GRANICE.

[3]

Hunted Down; or, Five Days in the Fog.

On Monday morning, at about fifteen minutes to eight o'clock, December7th, 1874, immediately after the shooting, or as soon thereafter as Icould collect my scattered senses, which was in about three minutes, Iinquired for the sheriff for the purpose of giving myself up; but henor any of his deputies were on the spot. After waiting a few minuteslonger I began to grow impatient at the delay of the officers, and notwishing to move from the scene of shooting for fear the movement wouldbe misconstrued and I be accused of trying to effect an escape, I senta messenger in quest of Sheriff Meany (I forget now who the messengerwas). In a short time thereafter Sheriff Meany arrived on the spot,and perceiving him, I addressed him thus: "Sheriff Meany, I am yourprisoner." He grabbed me in rather a rough manner by the lapel of mycoat, took me to the lock-up, thence to the El Capitan hotel, andafter remaining at the latter place for half an hour (for what reasonI know not), he conducted me back to the lock-up, thrust me in, andturned the key on me. In a short time thereafter my breakfast wasbrought to me without knife or fork to eat with. The victuals were notfit for a dog to eat. I so expressed myself to Meany, and asked him to[4]give me a decent breakfast. He answered me thus: "That has got toanswer. Can't treat you different from other prisoners." With theexception of the coffee, I set the breakfast aside.

In the meantime, quite a crowd had collected outside the jail, andMeany was inciting them to mob violence by his vindictive expressionsagainst me. I kept perfectly quiet and said nothing to Meany nor hisdeputies. Suspecting the duplicity of Meany, I despatched a courierfor my brother George, who was living some fifteen miles north ofMerced. My brother arrived in town about noon, and immediately came tome. He was searched by Meany and then admitted into the lock-up. Hehad hardly shaken hands with me when he heard Meany say something, andturning to me, remarked: "I hear Meany talking, and I think it unsafeto be in here, as I am in their power while shut up in here." Heimmediately asked to be let out, and his request was acceded to. Inthe course of the day a fellow named Packard, a shoulder-hitter ofMeany's, came skulking around the jail and, picking up a gun,attempted to get an opportunity to shoot me through the bars of thelock-up. I perceived his intention in time to hug the wall directlyunder the bars, thereby preventing him from assassinating me. Thedeputy sheriff told him to put the gun down; that he had no right topick it up. After loitering around a few minutes longer, Meany cameup, and then this Packard commenced to annoy me with insultingremarks; and although Meany was there and heard him, he said nothingto him. He left shortly after, indulging in the remarks mentionedabove, and I afterwards learned that he returned and tried to shoot methrough the bars of the jail with a pistol. I knew that my danger wasgreat, and my only hope was in my friends protecting me, not theSheriff, for he had expressed himself in such a free manner in myhearing, although he did not know that I was listening, that I knewthere was no[5] protection to hope for from that source. Knowing this, Idid not beseech him to save me; I merely asked him, when I gave myselfinto his custody, to take me before a justice of the peace; I wouldwaive an examination and go to Modesto. It was eight o'clock in themorning when I delivered myself up to Meany.

The cars would leave for Modesto at 1p. m. There were, therefore,five hours in which to allow me to do that which would take but tenminutes, to wit—take me before a justice of the peace, and allow meto waive an examination. I told him it was dangerous for me to remainin Merced, and I wanted to waive, and go to Modesto for safety. Myattorney, P. D. Wigginton, mentioned the matter to many in mypresence, about nine o'clock in the morning. One hour passed—twohours—three—four. It was one o'clock, and still Meany had donenothing, although repeatedly urged by my friends to do something.Well, when one o'clock arrived, and I still remained in thelock-up, I knew what I could expect from Meany. I then made up my mindto say nothing to him, but let matters take their course, and awaitdevelopments. He, no doubt, was surprised that I did not beg him totake me to some place of safety; but I knew it was useless to ask himto save my life. I had asked him to take me to Modesto in order toprevent violence; and one o'clock arriving, I knew what his actionmeant, on account of his expressions used in my hearing while I waslying in the lock-up. It was plain to me that he was in sympathy withthe mob, which I knew was rising. I said nothing, but kept my owncounsel.

A heavy fog came up about five o'clockp. m., and it was near dark atthat hour. Meany opened the door and ordered me, in a quick, sharp,rough voice, to put on my coat, which I had taken off in order themore easily to slip through the hands of the mob in case they broke inthe lock-up to take me out. Said Meany:[6]

"Be quick! Put your coat on. Got to take you out of this right now, asthey will be down here in less than an hour and hang you!"

I merely said to him, "Why didn't you take me to Modesto when youcould have done so with safety?"

That question was a poser to him, and he made some inarticulate reply.I put on my coat, and accompanied by Meany and Deputy Sheriff Breen,one carrying a double-barreled shot-gun, the other a repeating rifle,started towards the new court house, which lies just at the edge oftown. Upon reaching the south-west corner of the enclosure surroundingthe building, I perceived a thorough-brace awaiting us. John Hathawayhad the lines, and I was handcuffed and put in the carriage withDeputy Breen, and Meany told Breen to go as far as the Half-Way Houseand there stop. After giving this order, he started back to town. Ithen saw through the whole arrangement. He had put me into the handsof a deputy, and as he confidently expected the mob would hang me, hewould be free from blame, and could say, "Granice was not in my hands,but in the hands of a deputy."

During all this time I said nothing although I thought a great deal.Hathaway drove, according to Meany's orders, toward the Half-WayHouse. It struck me, as well as the deputy sheriff and also Hathaway(as I afterwards learned from their conversation), that the mob waslying in wait at the bridge, at the crossing of Bear Creek. I kept asharp look-out ahead, and in a few minutes the Bear Creek bridgeloomed up through the fog, about one hundred yards ahead. I kept asteady eye on the structure as we drew near, expecting every second tosee the forms of the devils.

At last the bridge was reached and crossed, and that which I mostdreaded and feared—the crossing of Bear Creek bridge—was passed insafety. While crossing the bridge, I looked behind and perceived eightmen about[7] one hundred yards behind, on foot, approaching the bridge.

The programme was not laid down quite right. They were about oneminute behind time, thanks to John Hathaway's rapid driving, who, ofcourse, together with the deputy sheriff, knew nothing of the littlearrangement to get me on the road. But they strongly suspected, as Ilearned from a word that I caught from their whispered conversation.After crossing the bridge, Hathaway whipped up his horses, and westarted off at a rapid pace for the Half-Way House. I heard DeputySheriff Breen remark to Hathaway:

"John, its strange Meany didn't tell us to keep right on to Modesto,instead of stopping so near town. But I have got to followinstructions. If the mob comes, I'll turn Harry loose, d——d if Idon't, if there is no other recourse."

I then spoke up and said: "Well, Mr. Breen, if you do, and I am alive,you will find me in the Modesto jail inside of a week."

He then remarked: "Oh, they may not come."

The above remark was the only one I passed from the time of leavingthe lock-up till I arrived at the Half-Way House, as I was deeplyengaged in thought, trying to arrive at some plan to outwit the mob,whom I felt certain would be on my tracks ere long, if they were notso already. It was half-past seven or eight o'clock when we arrived atthe Half-Way House, six miles north of Merced. I was led into thehouse, securely handcuffed. The horses were taken out of their traces;then supper was ordered. We sat down to the table and eat our supper.After finishing my repast, I was conducted to a room and put to bedwith the hand-cuffs on. I had no sooner laid down when I was agreeablysurprised to see my brother George step into the room—a young manabout twenty years of age, and brave as a lion. Like a sleuth-hound hehad scented me out. It was then between[8] eight and nine o'clock. Inpresence of Hathaway, Breen and the host, we held a hurriedconversation. George was armed and on horseback, but his horse wascompletely fagged out. He said:

"I will ride to town, and if met by the mob on the road, I will putspurs to my horse and give the officer an alarm."

I tried to dissuade him from running any risk, but he would not listento me. He said:

"I will ride towards town; if I reach there without encountering themob I will get a fresh horse and stand guard at the bridge."

He then left. I afterward learned that he reached town with his horsecompletely broken down, and applied to all their livery stables foranother, but was told that they were all engaged (doubtless to themob).

After my brother's departure, the deputy sheriff removed one of thehand-cuffs from my wrist, fastened it on his own, and got in bed withme, Hathaway and Powell, the proprietors of the house, standing guard.Shortly after Breen retired I dropped off asleep. I had slept for sometime when I heard Hathaway call to Breen in an undertone:

"Wake up, Nick, they are coming!"

I immediately awoke my sleeping bed-fellow, who, jumping up, listenedfor a moment. Breen stopped to listen again, when Hathaway exclaimed,"For God's sake, Nick, hurry up; they are right here!" Hathaway waswhite as a sheet, and held a double-barreled shot-gun in his hands ina determined manner, while Breen hastily picked up his pants from thefloor, took out the key of the hand-cuffs, and taking me by myextended wrist, loosened it (it seemed an age, while he was feeling inhis pocket for the key). At this instant I heard the fiends for thefirst time. They were then about one hundred yards from the house. Ihurriedly put on my pants, shoes and vest, and catching up my coat, Imade a hasty[9] exit out of the back door. As I did so, a terrible shoutwent up from the throats of the mob, which sounded like the yells ofdevils from the lower regions, and I thought they had discovered me asI passed out of the door. As soon as I reached the open air I got downon my hands and knees and crawled very softly about fifty yards fromthe house, when I stopped and put my ear to the ground to see if theywere yet on my track. The fog was very thick; one could not see threeyards ahead. I listened for a second; then taking off my shoes toprevent making a noise, and putting on my coat, I crawled about onethousand yards. I then stopped to think what was best for me to do tooutwit those seeking my life. I argued to myself that it was best totack back toward Merced, as the mob would be apt to pursue menorthward and eastward that night. They would imagine, so I thought,that I would flee before them and strike for the Merced river; so Iconcluded to go where they would least expect to find me. I wouldreturn and strike Bear Creek, which has very high banks and a narrowchannel, but which at that time contained no water. If I could reachthe creek (which was some seven miles off) before day-break, I knew Iwould be safe for one day, at least, provided I was very cautious.With this resolution formed, I listened for a few seconds, and hearingnothing, I started to make a semi-circle of the Half-Way House inorder to get on the other side of it. By a bright light which the fogmagnified to at least ten times its size, which kept moving to and froin and around the Half Way-House, which was either a torch or alantern, I knew that the blood-thirsty crew were searching under theporch and in the out-houses for me. I had not proceeded a quarter of amile after taking my resolve to get between the mob and Merced, when Icame to the road leading from the above houses to Cox's Ferry. Istopped and listened for a second and peered through the fog, whichwas growing denser and more dense as[10] the night advanced, but coulddiscern nothing but the bright light before mentioned, which I wasutilizing as a guide to travel by. I then crossed the road; I had nosooner done so than I discovered two horsemen going toward Snelling. Ifell flat on my face, scarcely daring to breathe, and they passed onwithout discovering me. While lying down I watched them attentively tosee if they suspected their close proximity to me, as they were ridingat that moment very slow, and were apparently on the alert for anysound which might possibly reach their ears. I saw several morehorsemen, but luckily they did not see me before I had accomplishedthe semi-circle around the Half-Way House; but after accomplishingthat manœuvre, I saw no one again that night, as I kept away fromthe roads, and was not under the necessity of crossing any more. Whenabout four miles from Merced, I altered my course slightly with theintention of striking Bear Creek; about one or two miles below town;but losing my reckoning, I reached the creek about five hundred yardsfrom the bridge.

It was now near daylight, and the fog was impenetrable to the eye, orat least all objects moving in it at a greater distance than fiftyyards. Having reached the creek, and put on my shoes (having walkedall the way from the Half-Way House in my stocking feet), I proceededup. By daylight I was opposite the County Hospital Farm, situatednortheast of town. I cautiously passed beyond it, and as there was aroad running on each side of the creek at this point, I scrambled upits banks and struck out toward the foot-hills, knowing that I wouldnot be apt to encounter the mob off from a road, within a circle offive miles from Merced. I commenced to walk around a section of landwhich was marked by a furrow, and which I think belonged to Upton. Ihad to keep walking to keep from freezing.

I was now about two miles from the Hospital grounds the hour aboutnine o'clocka. m., and up to this time I[11] had only halted once, thenfor only a second to put on my shoes. I was sick, tired, thirsty, andcommenced to feel hungry. I sat down for awhile to rest. I was veryweak and emaciated from a severe attack of bloody flux, from which Ihad suffered several days prior to the shooting, and which continuedduring the first two days of my wandering. My mouth was dry andparched; there was no water to be seen; I looked at the grass; the foghad made it damp; I will try to suck the dampness I thought; as I waspreparing to do so, to my horror I discovered that my jaws werelocked. I had doubtless clasped them firmly the night before,determined to escape, and in my eagerness had not opened my mouth; andthat, together with the cold and thirst, had fastened them vise-like.I rubbed and worked nervously for several minutes; then I bethought meof my printer rule which was luckily in my vest pocket. With this Isucceeded in prying my jaws apart, and with a few crumbs of tobaccowhich I found in my pants' pocket, I found relief. I then resumed mywalk; would walk around the section and return to my starting point;alternately walking a mile and resting for a half hour, thus I passedsome three hours.

About noon the fog exhibited indications of clearing off, and Ithought it best to hunt the shelter of some friendly creek, for thedouble purpose of screening myself from view and quenching my thirst,which was becoming almost unbearable. Sick and hungry, I started inquest of Bear Creek; and after traveling about an hour, I realized thefact that I had become lost in the fog. Previous to this discovery, Ihad passed within sight of several houses, but not knowing all theinhuman wretches who were hunting me down, I durst not apply withinfor food, and shelter from the cold, chilling fog, for fear ofencountering some one in sympathy with the mob, if not one of theactual participants. Upon finding that I was lost, I began to blamemyself for not going boldly[12] into one of the several farm houses,making myself known, requesting food and a conveyance to Fresno orModesto, to deliver myself up to a sheriff who was not an actualparticipant in the mob, much less in sympathy with the same.

But I kept up my courage, and tried to discover my bearings. I thoughtI must be somewhere near Mariposa Creek; so trudging along for abouttwo hours longer, I found that I had guessed rightly, and I struck theabove mentioned creek about a mile or two north of the railroadcrossing, and knew my whereabouts to a certainty. I clambered down itssteep banks on one side and up on the other, when I espied a man aboutone hundred yards distant, armed with a rifle. Although the fog stillcontinued to hang over the valley, I was fearful lest he had seen me.Immediately upon sighting him, I couched down in the tall grass, whichgrew quite rank on the banks of the creek at this particular spot, andcautiously raised my head to see if I had been discovered; as I didso, I perceived he had seen me. He was about sixty or eighty yardsoff, was standing with his face toward me, and had just made amovement to approach my hiding place, when with a sudden impulse Iseized a long shovel handle (which I had picked up early in themorning, for use as a walking stick), and lying flat on my stomach,brought it to bear on the man. My ruse was successful. He evidentlytook the harmless weapon for a rifle, and immediately disappeared inthe fog, going up the creek.

This man, whoever he was, no doubt, thinks to this day, that some onetook him for Granice, and that he ran a narrow risk of beingshot—with a shovel handle. As I said before, he took up the creek,and I proceeded down, and about four o'clock I struck the railroadcrossing seven or eight miles from Merced. Still keeping on the northside of the track, I proceeded toward that town, being careful to keepaway from the roads.

After proceeding two or three miles, I concluded to[13] get on the otherside of the track; and with that object in view, tried to catch a viewof the telegraph poles, in order to find the track; in a few minutes Idiscovered them. In order to change my position to the other side ofthe track, I would have to cross two roads, one on each side, whichwas a dangerous undertaking so near Merced, in the day time. But thefog gave me courage, and I started. I had just crossed over the track,meantime keeping my eyes on all sides of me, when I discovered a manriding along toward Merced. I immediately dropped flat, and he rodepast, all unconscious of my near presence. This fellow, I should judgefrom his paraphernalia—consisting of six shooter, bowie knife andgun—was one of the brave crowd whom I encountered the preceding nightat the Half-Way House. The horse was completely fagged out, and hisrider was evidently returning to Merced for a fresh movement. I knowyou, sir; I saw you, but you did not me. After the outlines of horseand rider faded away in the foggy mist, I hurriedly walked about ahalf mile from the railroad, intending to lay in one of the manylittle hollows thereabouts and await the coming of dark.

It was now about half past four. Up to this time I had not had a dropof water, although I had hunted for it in creeks and "hog wallows."The cravings of appetite did not bother me much—my thirst was tookeen. Arriving at the point just mentioned, I discovered a pool ofmuddy water, and getting on my hands and knees, I proceeded to slakemy thirst. I took one swallow, and it burnt my throat like moltenlead. It was alkali water, and the strongest I ever tasted. It was abitter disappointment, but it was near night; I was but a few milesfrom town, and under the cover of darkness I could get water and maybesomething to eat.

Night at last arrived, and under its sable folds I reached therailroad bed, and proceeded on my way—my place of destination,Merced. About seven o'clock[14] I reached the outskirts of the town, and,proceeding cautiously to Fourteenth street, through Chinatown, crossedthe railroad track below the El Capitan Hotel. Just as I stepped onthe track two men passed on their way to town—evidently men from oneof the farms beyond Merced. I was then about five hundred yards frommy home, and I determined at any risk to find out the fate of my wouldbe brother and poor dear mother, (whom I expected home on Mondaynight). Crawling on my hands and knees to within one hundred yards ofthe house (which was the last one at the west end of Seventeenthstreet), I watched for about five minutes to see if the place wasunder the surveillance of the mob. Discovering no indication of anyone on the outside, I crept along, reached the back door, andcautiously tried to get a view into the interior, but could seenothing, as the windows were covered with heavy curtains. I shudderedat the gloomy appearance of everything about the house; I wondered ifany of the family were dead within. I then opened the back door, andlooking in discovered the children and a neighbor lady, Mrs. Keogh.When I opened the door the children ran off frightened, as they didnot know who I was. I hastily asked Mrs. Keogh where the family was.She replied "all gone." "Are they all alive?" She answered "yes."

Just then I heard a noise at the front door and beat a hasty retreatout the back door. I dare not venture back where there were so manychildren, so I went to another part of town, where I knew almost to acertainty those who were thirsting for my blood. I ventured to lookinto the house of two persons whom I did not know, I saw them throughthe windows of their house, and knew that if they were not friendsthey were not enemies. Going to the door, I rapped. The door wasopened, and standing in the dark I requested a drink of water, whichwas handed to me. It was the first water I had tasted since leavingthe Half-Way House. I then stepped boldly into the room and said:[15]

"I suppose you know who I am? I am Granice."

They remarked, "Yes."

"Well," said I, "give me something to eat; I am almost starved."

Something told me there was nothing to fear from these people. Tellingthem to put down the curtains and lock the door, I sat down to thetable and commenced to partake of a lunch which they sat before me. Ifeared to eat too heartily, as I had not tasted food for twenty-fourhours. After eating and drinking and resting for about a half hour, Iasked for a hat, as mine had been left at the Half-Way House the nightbefore. One was given me, and also a blanket, and some victuals whichI strapped up in the blanket; and throwing the whole over my shoulder,I signified my intention of departing, and left them, with theinjunction to say nothing to any one about seeing me. They gave metheir promise, which they faithfully kept.

I then took up my weary march again. It had been walk, walk, since thepreceding night. After leaving my newly-made acquaintances, I struckoff into the chilling fog, hardly knowing which way to turn. I hadlearned from these people that my brother and step-father were beinghunted down by Meany and his mob, and I knew I must get away from thehot-bed of their rendezvous—Merced—as soon as possible beforedaylight the next morning.

I proceeded toward Modesto, on the railroad track, and kept up myweary tramp, tramp, tramp, scarcely able to drag one foot after theother, until near morning. At about four o'clock I reached a pointabout four miles from the Merced river and one or two from therailroad, and could proceed no farther. Spreading my blanket, a singleone, on the fog-damp earth, I laid down and slept for about anhour—the first rest and sleep for more than fifty-eight hours, unlessit be the short stop I made while at Merced. But the sleep did me moreharm than[16] good, as the cold chilled me through and through, and leftmy limbs so stiff that I could scarcely stand, much less walk. Imanaged to drag my weary body back to the railroad, and just as Ireached it I saw a hand-car coming down the track at a rapid rate. Itwas going toward the Merced river, to the section-house at that point.One white man and four or five Chinamen were in the car. Hailing theman, he stopped. I asked for a ride. He told me to jump on, and I didso, and sat right among the Chinamen. I told the man that I washunting work, but had been taken sick and was scarcely able to travel;that I was going to Modesto, where I had friends. He said I waswelcome to a ride. I watched him narrowly, and saw that he did notsuspicion anything. I rode as far as the Merced river with him, and ashe was going no farther, I was obliged to get off. He will probably besurprised to learn that that sick man hunting for a job was Granice,who at that time was being hunted down for his life, and for whomthere were large imaginary rewards offered for his capture. I wouldadvise him not to chide himself for his short-sightedness in notdiscovering whom I was, and thereby letting the reward slip throughhis hands, as I can assure him, had he captured me, he would havereceived not one dime for his pains.

Sick, worn out, footsore, not knowing the fate of my poor mother,brother and step-father, I cautiously approached the saloon at Cressystation, and peering through the window without being seen, I saw sixor seven men sitting around the stove; I recognized but one among thenumber; the rest were strangers to me. Knowing my enemies, I saw at aglance there were none among those men. Half frozen and famished, Iwalked fearlessly into the bar-room, and took a seat by the stove.Addressing the bar-keeper, I asked for a glass of brandy. He evidentlysaw from my appearance that I was very sick, and needed a strongstimulant; and filling a glass[17] half full of brandy, he handed it tome; taking it, I drained every drop. I then commenced to warm myhalf-frozen body, but during the operation I was very silent. In a fewminutes I felt revived, and I told the men that I was on my way toModesto afoot, but that I was sick, and did not think I could hardlymake the trip.

My acquaintance in the meantime said nothing, and did not even appearto recognize me. At last I succeeded in getting him to one side, andtold him I wanted to get to Modesto by some means. He said he couldnot help me, but would not inform on me. He told me he knew the menpresent, and that they would help me, if anything, to get out of theclutches of the mob. I told him I wanted to be kept out of Meany'shands; also that he was in with the mob, to my way of thinking. Hesaid they all understood that; that they, the men, would see me safelythrough. Here I eat breakfast, after which I went and hid myself in abarn. Peeping through the cracks of the same, I saw Meany and some ofthe mob, just as the afternoon train arrived, talking to one of themen I had seen in the saloon, and I thought I would be discoveredsure. But in a few minutes the sheriff and posse (?) left, going upthe river. I had guessed rightly; the men did not suspect me; if theydid, they kept their own counsel.

I learned, during the afternoon, that my mother was on that train onher way to Merced, and that some one had whispered in her ear, yourson is thus far safe. This was a great relief to me, for I had fearedfor her safety; I knew that rumors must have reached her of my beinghunted down, and of the uncertainty of my escape from the mob, and Iknew that her agony must be terrible.

I remained hid in the barn until nightfall, when I ventured forth, andwas guided by two friends to a good hiding place, their main objectbeing to keep me out of the clutches of the mob, as I informed themthat I did not[18] wish to evade the law, but wanted to reach Modestowhen I could do so with safety. I did not look upon Meany as anofficer, as he, to my knowledge, mixed with the mob, and deputizedsome of the ring leaders as his posse. I have his own word for this,because he told me, while returning with me to Modesto from myexamination at Merced, that there was not a half-dozen men out butwhat he had deputized. I laid hid in my new retreat, which was in abarn, some four or five miles from Cressy Station. This barn wasfilled with hay, and I burrowed a hole, got into it, covered it up,and lay hid all day, venturing forth at night only, to stretch myaching limbs and to get water.

While hid in this barn, I suffered from cold, hunger and thirst.

While hid here, the mob was hunting for me everywhere, and wheneverthe cowardly crew came to a thicket of willows that they feared toinspect closely or in which they thought I might be hid, they firedinto the same. The firing was distinctly seen and heard by myself atone particular point on the Merced river. In the corral of the barn inwhich I lay hid there were a dozen or so of fine horses, out of whichI could have taken my pick, had I desired to effect my escape, butthat was far from my intention. I was determined not to flee if Icould possibly reach Modesto in safety. Had I have had no opportunityto have done so, as a last resort I would have armed myself, mounted agood horse, and leading another, struck a bee line for Mexico. Knowingthe country so well, and for other reasons which I will not mentionhere, I could have reached that country without fear of arrest; andafter stopping there six months or a year, I would have returned andstood my trial.

Luckily, I had an opportunity to reach Modesto, but not withoutincurring a great risk from the mob, whom I had to dodge on every handin order to reach Cressy[19] Station, where, under the protection of fivefriends, I took passage to Modesto on Saturday morning. Arriving thereat seven o'clock, I immediately went to the Ross House, eat mybreakfast, and then sent a messenger in quest of the sheriff. He beingout of town, his deputy, Chas. Aull, came into the parlor. I wasintroduced, to him, and gave myself into his custody. That night thesheriff called out a large number of men to prevent a set ofscoundrels from Merced from mobbing me.

I have written this simple, uncolored, true statement of facts injustice to Nick Breen, as Mr. Fleming, the deputy sheriff, told mymother that Mr. Meany had ordered Mr. Breen to take me to Modesto, andthat he (Breen) had disobeyed orders. My mother went immediately toMr. Breen and asked him if what Mr. Fleming said was true. "No," saidMr. B., "I wanted to take Harry to Modesto, but Meany's strict orderswere, the Half-Way House."

The following beautiful poem was written after the authoress had spentseveral hours in jail with the prisoner in company with his mother, inwhich time they all dined together; the meal being furnished from arestaurant by his mother. Young Harry acted as host, calm anddignified, though pale from confinement and want of sun and air:

THE FATAL SLANDER; OR, HARRY'S DEFENSE.

BY MRS. L. E. DRAKE.