to them; and you often write to them, of course.”  His eyes glistened, and I saw pearl-like dew-drops gathering in them; his thoughts were carried over the mountains to his old home.  “Ah, my good friend,” I added “how their hearts must rejoice to hear from you.”  Then, after a short pause, I remarked, “What is the case against your prisoner?  He, too, perhaps, may have a mother and sister in the East, thinking of him as your mother and sister do of you, and wondering when he will come back.  For God’s sake remember this.”  The heart of the good man responded in a voice which, even to this day—­now nearly twenty-seven years past—­sounds like a delicious melody in my ears:  “I will do so.”  Passing from him I went to the other jurors, and, finding they were about to go back to the trial, I exclaimed, “Don’t be in a hurry, gentlemen, let us take another glass.”  They again acceded to my request, and seeing that they were a little mellowed by their indulgence, I ventured to speak about the trial.  I told them that the courts of the state were organized, and there was no necessity or justification now for Lynch juries; that the prisoner appeared to be without friends, and I appealed to them, as men of large hearts, to think how they would feel if they were accused of crime where they had no counsel and no friends.  “Better send him, gentlemen, to Marysville for trial, and keep your own hands free from stain.”  A pause ensued; their hearts were softened; and, fortunately, a man going to Marysville with a wagon coming up at this moment, I prevailed upon them to put the prisoner in his charge to be taken there.  The owner of the wagon consenting, they swore him to take the prisoner to that place and deliver him over to the sheriff; and to make sure that he would keep the oath, I handed him a “slug,” a local coin of octagonal form of the value of fifty dollars, issued at that time by assayers in San Francisco.  We soon afterwards separated.  As I moved away on my horse my head swam a little, but my heart was joyous.  Of all things which I can recall of the past, this is one of the most pleasant.  I believe I saved the prisoner’s life; for in those days there was seldom any escape for a person tried by a Lynch jury.

The expenses of the election were very great.  It was difficult to interest the miners in it; most of them had come to the country in the hope of improving their fortunes in one or two years, and then returning to “the States.”  It was, therefore, a matter of little moment to them who were chosen members of the coming Legislature.  Party lines were not regarded among them, and party questions could not draw many of them from their labors.  As I was an independent candidate, not supported by any party, I had to bear the whole expenses of the campaign.  How great those expenses were may be imagined from the following bill, one of a large number sent to me after the election.  I had told the saloon-keepers in the vicinity of the polling places in the different precincts to be liberally disposed towards my friends on the day of election.  They took me literally at my word, as this bill from the keeper of a saloon where the polls were opened in Downieville precinct will show: