“Hold on! hold your horses just a minute,” interrupted Quince Forrest, “I want to get that word.  I want to make a memorandum of it, for I may want to use it myself sometime.  Capias?  Now I have it; go ahead.”

“When court met, every man served with a bench warrant from the judge presiding was present, and as soon as court was called to order, a squad of men arose in the court room, and the next moment the judge fell riddled with lead.  Then the factions scattered to fight it out, and I was passing through the county while matters were active.

“They confiscated my gun and all the ammunition in the packs, but helped me to repack and started me on my way.  A happy thought struck one of the men to give me a letter, which would carry me through without further trouble, but the leader stopped him, saying, ’Let the boy alone.  Your letter would hang him as sure as hell’s hot, before he went ten miles farther.’  I declined the letter.  Even then I didn’t have sense enough to turn back, and inside of two hours I was rounded up by the other faction.  I had learned my story perfectly by this time, but those packs had to come off again for everything to be examined.  There was nothing in them now but flour and salt and such things—­nothing that they might consider suspicious.  One fellow in this second party took a fancy to my horse, and offered to help hang me on general principles, but kinder counsels prevailed.  They also helped me to repack, and I started on once more.  Before I reached my destination the following evening, I was held up seven different times.  I got so used to it that I was happily disappointed every shelter I passed, if some man did not step out and throw a gun in my face.

“I had trouble to convince the cattle hunters of my experiences, but the absence of any ammunition, which they needed worst, at last led them to give credit to my tale.  I was expected home within a week, as I was to go down on the Nueces on a cow hunt which was making up, and I only rested one day at the hunters’ camp.  On their advice, I took a different route on my way home, leaving the mules behind me.  I never saw a man the next day returning, and was feeling quite gala on my good fortune.  When evening came on, I sighted a little ranch house some distance off the trail, and concluded to ride to it and stay overnight.  As I approached, I saw that some one lived there, as there were chickens and dogs about, but not a person in sight.  I dismounted and knocked on the door, when, without a word, the door was thrown wide open and a half dozen guns were poked into my face.  I was ordered into the house and given a chance to tell my story again.  Whether my story was true or not, they took no chances on me, but kept me all night.  One of the men took my horse to the stable and cared for him, and I was well fed and given a place to sleep, but not a man offered a word of explanation, from which I took it they did not belong to the vigilance faction.  When it came time to go to bed, one man said to me, ’Now, sonny, don’t make any attempt to get away, and don’t move out of your bed without warning us, for you’ll be shot as sure as you do.  We won’t harm a hair on your head if you’re telling us the truth; only do as you’re told, for we’ll watch you.’