Custer County, Nebraska - The whole text, 1901 (part 3 of 9)

While the stranger had been eating his keen eye had taken an inventory of the furniture of the house, which consisted of but a single room. The objects which most interested him were a long needle gun and a belt containing a quantity of loaded shells, which hung upon the wall. John had been gone but a short time when the stranger stepped across the room, coolly took down the belt, buckled it around his waist, picked up the gun and walked out of the house, Mrs. Downey looking on in open-mouthed astonishment at the impudence of the fellow.

No sooner had he started for the main road than Mrs. Downey rushed out and gave the alarm to her husband, who was at work a short distance away. Securing a handy pitchfork, he went after the bold thief and demanded the return of his proi)erty. But the stranger stood him off and advised him to go back about his business, which would save him from having any trouble, and i)erhaps from having his head blown off. With this grim hint he resumed his journey.

Two days later a man could have been seen standing upon a high point of land near the Plum Creek road, about thirty-five miles north of that town, leaning on a long gun and gazing intently to the northwest.

"Well, this is bucking the tiger with a vengeance, and I am going to lose, unless my luck changes soon. I haven't tasted water nor food for two days and I can't hold out much longer. If I could run across Milton or some of his boys, I could snap my fingers at Dick James and his hellhounds of the law."

Had we looked closely we would have recognized the stranger who had breakfasted with the Downeys some two days previously. He had a rather refined appearance, was fashionably dressed in a dark suit, with Prince Albert coat, altogether unlike the popular conception of outlaw, and horsethief of the wild plains of the West. He was about thirty-five years of age, of rather stout build, dark complexioned, and possessed a pair of glittering black eyes through which the devil that was in him could be discovered at a glance.

The reader will have guessed by this time that this man is none other than Jack Nolan, the notorious outlaw and gambler, who had recently shot and killed a Mexican at Sidney, and who had broken out of the jail at Plum

Creek as recounted above. While the news item at the head of this article would seem to indicate that Milton or some of his men had been imidicated in the jafl delivery, such was not the case. Had Milton been the agent through whom Nolan had been liberated the fugitive would have been provided with a horse on which to get away, and not have been compdled to adopt the slow and unprofessional method of ''hoofing it" - and unarmed at that.

Continuing his solilo<iuy: ''Jim said that Milton was up in Powell canon, wherever that is. But there is the Plum Creek road; 111 drop down to that, rest awhile and try to think up some scheme to get a horse."

He descended, almost sliding, to the base of the steep bluff, and threw himself down on the short grass by the side of the road, keeping a sharp lookout up and down, however, to prevent anyone from approaching him unawares. But tired nature soon asserted herself, in spite of his fears, and in a short time the fugitive fell into a heav}* slumber, where we will leave him while we proceed to Olive's ranch, in Custer county, on the bank of the Sonth Loup river.

The ranch building is of cedar logs, and consisted of two parts, with a door and a small window in each. The roof is of split logs and pedes overlaid with several thicknesses of sod. It stands upon a gentle incline abont twenty yards east of- the river, which flows past in a southerly direction, almost hidden from view by a thick growth of timber which lines the bank on both sides. Corrals for cattle and horses are located in dose proximity to the ranch house, and in the gray light of the early morning a few deepj cowboys are moving about preparing for the duties of the day.

''Come, hurry up, Kid; breakfast is almost ready, and if you're going to Plum Creek to-day you've got to get a move on you," exclaimed John OatUn, the foreman, as he i>oked a drowsy lad in the ribs. The boy turned over in his bunk, rubbed his eyes lazily and wished the head push was in Jericho or some other seaport. However, he was soon up and storing away plate after platB of hot cakes and molasses while the cook wondered where on earth the boj was putting all the ''chuck." The meal over, the lad is soon in the saddle headed for Plum Creek, driving four saddle horses ahead of him necked together in pairs. The attention of the reader is directed to one of these animals. He is a large, clean-limbed bay horse, with light-colored flanks^ the private saddle horse of I. P. Olive, and famous all over the range as "Old White Flank." He is richly caparisoned with saddle and bridle of exquisite workmanship, made to order for the noted cattle king. The lad is J<An Finch (at this writing a popular and prominent business man of AmoU, in this county,) ajid he is on his way to Plum Creek with some horses that have been ridden by some men from that city to the ranch. The rim of the morning sun is just beginning to appear over the low hills that skirt the valley of the Loup as John hears the voice of Gatlin shouting after him: "Be on the lookout, boy, or you are likely to be held up by horse thieves."

"^Vll right," shouted back the boy, and with a whoop he urged the horses through the river at the old ford and was soon out of sight and hearing.

"I don't feel just right about letting that boy go alone, but Wheat can't be spared, and there's no one else to send. I hope nothing'll happen to the kid."

The boy had proceeded on hi« way some fifteen miles without incident, and is jogging leisurely along with nothing to be set»n on any side except an endless expanse of undulating prairie covered with short buffalo grass, without a tree or even a shrub to break the monotony of the landscape. Far behind him, rising up like an impassable barrier, the hazy blue bluffs that hem the valley of the South Loup shimmer in the warm sunshine, while far ahead he can discern the divide from which he will descend into the broad valley of the Platte. Eternal silence reigns over this vast solitude, except for the occasional twitter of some little bird and the tramp of the horses' feet as they patter along the dusty trail. The boy has not seen a habitation nor a human being since leaving the ranch, nor does he expect to see either until he catches the first glimpse of the city towards which he is traveling. It might be supposed that the parting admonition of the boss would cause the lad to pursue his journey with some degree of nervousness, but John Finch knew not what fear was. Consequently when he discovered a dark object lying on the prairie a little ahead of him he did not retreat, but advanced near enough to make out that it was a man - dead, he supposed. The tramp of the horses awakened the sleeper, who sprang wildly to his feet and looked excitedly around, prepared to retreat into the draw behind him if necessary. Taking in the situation at a glance, he motioned the bo\' to come on, but young Finch, realizing his danger, sank his spurs into his horse, lashed the ones he was driving and tried to get away. But Jack Nolan was not the man to let an opportunity like that slip by unimproved. He leveled his gun at the boy and shouted: "Haiti" John knew enough about wild west life to make him understand that halting was the proper thing to do under the circumstances, and he halted. Nolan ordered him to round up the horses, which John at first declined to do, but finally complied at the solicitation of the needle gun.

"This is the horse I want,'' and vaulting into Olive's finely chased and decorated saddle, Nolan detached *'01d White Flank" from his fellow and rode off. At a short distance be shouted back to the boy: **Yoiing man, if jou Hoe Dick James, just tell him to come and get me if he wants me/'

Finch wasted no time in completing his journey, and as he rode into a livery barn at Plum Creek driving three horses ahead of him he was met by Jack Woods, an employe of Olive, who inquired:

This nettled the boy, and he retorted hotly: '*Say, Jack, if you want to find Jack Nolan, get me a fresh horse and I'll put you onto his trail.''

The result of this confab was that after a hasty meal the daring lad, on a fast horse, was galloping over the Plum Creek road like a whirlwind. Jack Woods at his side.

This man Woods was a regular dare-devil - small, wiry, active as a cat, about thirty years of age, and afraid of nothing. He subsequently became sheriff of Kearney county and was killed by Zimmerman and Belmont, two desperadoes, who he was trying to arrest at Minden. The two men were eating their dinner at a certain hotel and Jack attempted to capture them by going in at one door of the dining room while hii< deputy was to enter at the other. At the last moment the nerve of the deputy failed him and Woods was killed. The murderers were pursued. Belmont was shot and killed in the chase, Zimmerman was captured, tried and sentenced to be hanged, but was subsequently released on some legal technicality.

But we are digressing. Woods and Finch headed for the Durfee ranch, near the mouth of the Cottonwood, in Custer county, about three miles from the present site of Callaway, supposing that Nolan would go there to stay that night. They an*ived at the ranch about 2 o'clock in the morning. Woods held the horses while Finch called out Jim (Jray and inquired if he had any strangers stopping with him. Receiving a negative reply, they proceeded to the Olive ranch, a few miles down the South Loup river, where they saw a dim light shining through one of the small windows. Finch was stationed at this window, while Woods, with his finger on the trigger of his gun, opened the door, fully intending to kill Nolan if he found him inside. But Nolan was not there. John Gatlin and John Wheat, the only men at the ranch, informed Woods that during the afternoon of the day before, while they were out, some one had come into the house, ate up their dinner, exchanged a long needle gun for a short one of the same make, a Prince Albert coat for a short riding coat, stok-n a pair of fine blankets, and vamiiosed. Uy the time they Lnd learned this miii.-li about the niovemeutii of the man lliev were liunting it was almost i o'clock in the moruinfr, and havinf: eaten a Iiinih and warmtHl their ehilled limbs at a blazing: fire uf tedai- wood, the lired boy. who had ridden over a linndied miles in iweniy-fonr lionis. Wiiw yotm fast asleep, and did not awaken nniil s o'clock, when he fonud tliac Woods, tiatlin and Wheat were gont-. Ijeavinj: John to look after iln- nincli, \\i- will follow the three men in their chase after Noian.

Thev followt-d his nail norlh as far as S|iiiii;; ("ruck, where they came njK)n the outlaw jnst as ht- was strikioj; lamp and [in-jiaring to mount "Old White Flank." As so<tn as Nolan observed the bovs he coolly threw down

(ratlin grabbed him by the sli.nilder and pulh-d him back iijio the saddle, saying: '-You fool, he will kill you befc.io you touch ilii- ;;roiind."

-Boys," said Nolan, "iiiy life and llbcriv ilepend npon this horse, and I will die before I give him op. One uf yon mav <ome op and talk with mp. but the otiier two must stay back."

And Short Sketcbes Of Early Days In Nebraska

-'That horse von have there is I. P. Olive's saddle horse, and that saddle and bridle were made for him to order. Olive is now being tried for his life and it isn't likely that he will ever use them again himself, but they will be relics that his family would not like to lo«e. Let me have them, and you may have mine, which will serve your pui-pose just as well.''

Gatlin pleaded in vain and tinaly proposed that they go to Van Sickles' ranch, on the Middle Loup, above the mouth of the Dismal, where he thought he could procure Nolan ju«t as good an outfit. He was so persistent that Nolan finally agreed to these terms, and promised to surrender '^White Flank" just as soon as Gatlin got him another horse as good. Gatlin rode back to his companions and reported the arrangement, instructing them to make a show of returning home, but to follow at a distance so as not to be observed by Nolan, to Van Sickle's ranch, where he thought Nolan could be captured.

The reader, who is unacquainted with the West as it was at this time, and who is a stranger to the habits, customs and accomplishments of the cowboys and outlaws who infested the region, might supj)ose that it would be an easy matter for these three men to capture or kill the single individual of whom they were in pursuit. But it is not a question of main strength. Like all frontiersmen they were adepts in the use of firearms. The Winchester and the six-shooter were their inspearable companions, and were handled with a dexterity and rapidity that meant death at every move. Ilad either Woods or his partners made the slightest motion that suggested a resort to their weapons, that move would have been anticipated by the ever-alert Nolan, who would have had the "drop" on his enemy quick as a flash of lightning.

Gatlin rejoined Nolan, and the latter, suspecting that all was not right, said: **See here, Gatlin; don't you put up any job on me or you'll be sorry for it."

Gatlin explained that everything was on the siiuare; that he had gone back to tell his companions of the arrangement that had been made, and that they were returning to the Olive ranch.

The two men then set out for Van Sickle's, fifty miles away, a ride which would stagger the most experienced horseman of a later period, but which in those days of magnificent distances was considered a mere trifle. They had proceeded northwest about twenty miles when they entered the Muddy valley. Nolan proposed that they turn out their horses to graze and rest awhile.

Oatlin knew that Woods and Wheat were foHowinjr a few miles in the rear. through the hills, and that they were likely to ride right into the vallev and be discovered by the watehful Nolan. It was therefore the policy of Matlin to keep on the move to pi'event any such catastrophe. He tried to dissuade his companion from losing any time, as they had a long jannt ahead of tlieni and the day was wearing away.

**Xo," replied the outlaw. "I am going to h*t White Flank have sonic* grass. I may have to ride for my life yet, au<i must take good care of him/*

Gatlin was afraid to insist further, for fear of arousing Nolan's suspicions, so he turned his horse out with Whitt- Flank and lay down in the grass, keeping his eye on the trail behind thnm, t^x[HM-ting every moment to see Woods and Wheat make th<*ir appeara ur«\ and praying that they would be delaved. Minut<*s seemrd hours to him. but hr bi-eatlies easier as Nolan prepares to mount and resume the journey.

Just as they start (latlin gives a fuitiv** glaure behind and discerns two dark obje<'ts (Mui'rging from the hills. He kee])s close ahmgside of his companion, chattering glibly to prevent Xolan fnuu bM>king around. Droppinp a little behind he tuins his ln»ad bark and discerns that the two men have entered the vallev and are now in full view. Tliev have discovert^l that thev have been too hastv and liavi* com*- \o a standstill, being too far in the valler might hide. It is a moment of awful suspense to < latlin, f(u- should Nolan chance to turn around and catch a glim])se uf the men in the rear, and learn that Gatlin had been playing false with him. \\u' conse:iiien<M»s might be t?eriou8. Hut he trusts to luck that before this hap]»ens they will pass around a projecting spur of a low blulY a hundred yards ahead which will shut off the view to the rear. There is sai<l to Im- a subtle intlin*nce of mind n\)on mind, a s(u*t of wireless telegraphy fiom biiiin to brain, by the uiysttnious power of which a thought that is uppermost in one person's head is transmitted to that of another near or distant. It may hav** b«*«Mi this unseen psychic for<*e which prompted Nolan to do the very thing which < latlin was praying hi* would not do. At anv rate. Nolan turned his head just as thev were roimding the promontory and his eagle eye* detected the two horsemen silhouetted against the horizon. Turning to (latlin he said fiercely:

"That can't be," replied Oatlin. putting a bold fac** nu the matter; "they went back to the ranch: let us hurry on and get to the end of our journey/'

Nolan was not fullv assured of the houi^stv of his traveling mate. He rode moodily along for some tiuie without utteriug a word, and then, suddenly reining up his horse, he said:

<iatlin conld do nothing but acquiesce, for he knew that further expostulation would be fiuitless. He did not dare to rejoin Woods and Wheat as long as Nohin was in sight, so he switched otf and went over to Victoria creek fo slay all night with (Jeorge Carr. As he was riding through the hills south of the creek he saw a man driving a small team of miUes directly across his path, evidently attempting to head him off. The man was standing up in his buggy and had a Wim-hester in his hand. It being almost dark by this time, tiatlin did not recognize the man until he came (juite close to him, and then found himself face to face with Dick James, sheriff of Dawson county, who had been following Oatlin for some time, mistaking him for Nolan, of whom he was in pursuit.

The two 1m iiijr old frirnds, proctM'de tl to Can's to^tMher and passed tli** nifjht tli(*n\ T1h» next niornin;: thry sent a man ovn* to Isaac Merchant's to find out if Jack \ohin was there. The nu^ssenjrer returned with the information that h(» was. How to ca]»ture the outhnv was the n<»xt question.

"(latlin. are vou arnnainted with tlie lay of Merchant's buildings and the country around there? Is there anv way we can jzet to the house without heinjj: J^^^'^^n l>v anyhndy inside or about th(^ yard?"

They succeeded in arminplishiiij^ this, l»ut discoyered at the same time that Nolan was otV on lh«* prairie about three-quarters nf a mile holding the lariat of Old ^Vhit^ Flank, wlio was niunehinjr the butValo ^rass with jrreat relish. It is needli'ss to sa\ that .bmirs did not j::et his liands on the slippery outlaw that day.

Woods and ^^ Inat had seen ihr separation of tlatlin and Nolan and had exptMMed to bi» i-rjoin<Ml l>y the fornur: but as hf failed to put in an appearance they proreeded on to \'an Sickle's, as had brm ajrreed upon. They stayed then* all niizhi, rod( do\yii thr Mid«lh* Loup as far as the Smith and Tee ranch, of which KobiMt Farlry was formian, whri<* they remained over the followin^^ ni«:hi. Tln^ next niornini:: they s<t out for the Finch-FIatton ranch. Shortly after tluMi- departure Nolan rodr uj) to the Smith and Tee lanch, and learuf^d that tin* boys w<*re on his trail. He remained there aU day. About sundown Mr. Farl(*y saw Woods and Wheat returning, and knowing; that Nolan was a des]K*iate man and a <lt*ad .shot and that Woods and Wheat would surt^ly Im* killed if they atteuipted to rapture him, thought it best to tell Nolan, so that In* rould jret out of the way. But Nolan did not appear anxious to jro. lie simply stepp(*d out of the house, rested his ritle on top of a post, took d«*liberate aim at the approaching cowboyt*, who were now within easy ran<je. ridinjr leisurely alonjr, unsusp(*ctinjj any danger- Farley expected eyt^ry second to hear the report of Nolan's rifle and to see one of the boys drop, but W was spared that ex])i*rirnr«-. Jack Nolan was a murderer and an outlaw, and a prire was set upon his head: he \va8 a fiigitiye from ayenj^injr just ire, but with all his de]»rayity there ^yas a little spark of manhood yet aliye within his breast whirh reyoltt-d at the idea of takini; the life of a fellow-bein«r without giyinjr liini a chance to defend himself. Acting upim this impulse of his better nature. In* walked out into the open and nu't the two horsenn-n with ]ires«*nti'd ;:un. Tht-y wt*re completely taken by surprise. Wi»ods was a braye man, but Nolan had ih»* drop on him and he knew that lu* would shoot to kill upon tin* Irasi [nov.uation. He retreatt^d as gracefully as he could undor the cireuinstanci*s and ]»ut out for the hills.

"Then go and hunt up that other felloYv and get out of this country an fast as your horses will carry you, and thank your utars that I didn't kill hotb of you when I had a good chance."

Wheat did not wait for a second invitation, and while he is liunting for his companion among the hills south of Victoria creek we will return to the Smith and Tee ranch and follow the fortunes of Jack Xolan, the outlaw.

Supper had beeu eaten, and night, with her sable mantle, had cnvelopi'd the valley of the Middle Loup in darkness, when the fierce barking of the dogs startled the inmates of the ranch house. Nolan rushed out, Winchester m hand, to investijfate the cause of the distiirbanee. The nijjht wa» still and calm, and as the hunted num listened intently he heard a j^reat splashing^ in the river near by, interniinjrled with (-ui*>m^s and angry exelamations, indicatinj? that the stream wa^ being forded by a body of men on horseback. Thinking that the Victoria militia were after him, he rushed to the corral, mounted White Flank and rode rapidly up the river. At the same time Dick Milton and his gang rode up to the ranch and imiuired who the man was that had just gallojH*d away. I'pon being informed that it was Xolan. Milton said: '*He is just the man I have Ihhmi looking for." lie and Smith dashed awav after Nolan as fast as their hors(*s could carrv th(*m. shoutinj; out for him to stop, as they were friends: but tlu* faster they pursued the faster the outlaw flew. They had to give u]) the chase and return to the ranch. Wheat and ^^'oods also returned to the lauch at the same tiuu* and left for Plnni rreek the next morning. Nohni disap]>eared. luit turned up some time after at the (Mia[Hn sheep ranch. n(*ar tlu» present village of Arnold, which is now the property of ex-Sheritt' i\ T. Ilolliday. A ]»hotograph of the old log ranch house* app(»ars in another part of this work. One day a stranger rode up on a fine bay horse with white flanks. He canieil a netMlle gun and made arrangements to get his meals foi- about a week. Mr. Chapin siiid the man " ould come in pr(un])tly at m(*al times, eat with his gun across his lap. then mount his horst* and ride away, generally in the direction of Powell canon. Re represented that he was waiting for some friends whom he expected ahuig in a short time. Mr. Thapin and his wife were not very favorably impressed with the actions of their board«M\ but as he appearinl to be a perfect gentleman and paid promptly, they asked no (piestions. One day while the stranger was eating his dinner Mrs. ('ha])in was rt^ading a paper which contained an item whicli greatly int»*r»*sted her. and she arose and passed out of the room, beckoniug her htisband to follow her. This little incident did not escape the watchful eye of Jack Nolan, and when he peered out of the door he saw Mr. and Mis. Cliapin carefully examining his horse. He stepped up to them, remarking: **1 see yoti hav«* discovered who I am and I want to give you a little advice. I want my meals and 1 am willing to pay for them. If you keej) still, it will be all right: but if you try to make me trouble it will be the worse for you. 1 want you to und(*rstaud that 1 will not be taken alive. He then told them the whole story of his pursiiit by the cowboys and the sheritt, laughing heartily at the way in whicli he had discomfited them. As the ranchmen were at that tim«* more or less at the mercy of such characters, it was considered good policy to tieat them well and not get mixed up in their quarrels: therefore Mr. Chapin and his good wife are not to be censured if they kept the secret of the identity of tluMr guest safely locked within their own breasts. Dick Milton freqnontly stopped at the Chapin ranch and at one time presented Mr. f'hapin with a gray horse that was somewhat ridden down, but which proved to be an excellent animal. He kept it abont two years and sold it for a good price. This transaction came very near getting him into trouble, as it turned out that the horse had been

Stolen and Chapin was threatened with arrest as an accomplice of Milton. Nolan next api)eared at the North and ('ody ranch on the Dismal river, near its mouth, remained there about three days, and then went up into the Niobrara coutrj.

In the meiintinie Sheriff Dirk James had returned to Plum Creek and sent his depnty, Valentine, to continue tlie hunt for Nolan. Valentine, it is said, told everybody he met that he was « great detective; that it was through his skill that the Olives had been pat behind the bars, and that he intended to take Nolan back with him. One day while riding up on the Running Water he met a ranchman to whom he explained his business, embellishing the narrative with a very glowing description of Valentine's prowess as a thief catcher. Valentine was not yet out of sight when Jack Nolan rode up to the ranchman and iiii|uired who the man was that had jnst left him. The ruuchnian related the conversation, after which Nolan put spurs to Old White Flank and 8wo«[M>d down on the unsu8i)ecting detective. He held him up, took his horse and weapons and turned him loose in the middle of the desert, horseless and uarmed. Nolan, however, allowed the detective to retain his waddle, which he recognized as the proiR-rty of Gatch Hughey, a boy who carriod "clnick" to tb(* prisoners in the Plnni CriM»k jail. It was hinted that Hughey had been instrumental in effecting the eseai>e of Nolan from the jail, but nothinjj of the kind was ever prov<*n. Gatch. it appears, was quite a totalist. and the nijrht that Nolan escaped had broujrht the prisoner his supper, and returned to the jail ofhoe. Nolan called out after him: ''Gatch, can't yon jiive us a song?" Gatrh. who was a good-natured fellow, who would rather sing than work, launched out into a roaring ditty that lasted for some time. Nolan had previously sawfd s*ncral bars of iiis cHl nearly in two. and taking advantage of tlu* noisr thai (latch was making with his song he wrenched the bars vf\\ slipped through and made his esra]>e. At the conclusion of his vocal ]>erformance (iatrh exp«Mied to hear some ap]>lause from Nolan, but a dead sileiice ensuing he made an examination and found the cell empty. A« a mark of a]>pnM:iation for the service rendei*ed to him in his hour of need, Nolan returned to the detective Gatch's saddle which had been borrowed by the thief catcher when he set out <»n his hunt for th(^ outhiw.

Nohni finally f(*l] in with Milton, but they did not get along very well togethf'r. Milton lecognized White Flank, traded Nolan out of him, and sent word to Olive where he cnnld ttnd him. nlive at onc(^ sent a man after the horse, which was in due time restored lo his rightful owner. J^ome time after this Nolan robbed the r»one Creek postotlice and tied to Minnesota. Later he was captured, but what i»ecame of him your historian is unable to say, as he has not been able to trace further the career of one of the most daring outlaws that ever infestt^d central Nebraska.

Judge William Gaslin was i»orn in Kenneb«M- county. Maine, Jidy 29. 1827. His parents and ancestors wei*e among the hardy pioniMMs of the forests, whose mt*ntal and physical ]K>weis wrre fully devt-loped by exposure, frugality and the hardest kind of manual labor. His grand parents and parents lived to be very old. most of them to an age between ninety and one hundred. The judge, during his boyhcod. lived with his parr*nis on a sterile, rocky farm, on which he labon d when not working out l»y the month for small wages cutting lumber, part of the time taking trips at sea. after he was old enough to do so, at first serving as co(»k. When a child he attended a countrv school.

S Of Eaklv Days In Nebraska

biit only in the winters after lie got large enough to work on the farm, the s<;hool house being about a mile distant; he had a love for study and was soon a good scholar. After he was able to earn money to pay his way, he attended an academy and fitted for and entered Bowdoin college in 1852. from which he graduated in 185(J, having paid his own way by teaching school and earning money at anything he could do. Shortly after graduating he entered the office of Judge Samuel Titcomb in .\ugu8ta and commenced the study of law. Being without money he taught in the graded schools of Augusta, continuing the study of law during the spare time he had, hiring a house and moving his mother and young brother and siister into the city, the younger children attending the school he taught. After thus teaching nearly two years he had waved enough to enable him to continue his law studies, and 80 left school. After being admitted to practice law he opened an office in Augusta, the capital of the state, where there were fine lawyers, ajid took an active part in politics with his neighbors, among whom were the immortal James O. Blaine and Lot M. Morrill, and frequently coming in contaci with Hannibal Hamlin and other eminent men of the state.

From money earned in teaching school and the little he could save from his salary as city clerk and other official positions, he fitted up an office in his native city with such books as he was able to get and commenced his law practice, walking four milen night and morning to and from his father's farm and so continued for two or three years.

Jt was V41-V littlr l»iisiiirss he had until a poor old widow, being robbed of her faun :>nd honi«\ ranie to him. Some of the hi-st lawyers in the city told (laslin in a friendly way that a jrreat wronjr and ontrajre was beinjr done, but as the ])arti<'S had a tie«*d there was no ehanre for the old lady. Oaslin got the ease put over nearly all summ<*r while he was examining and copying the reeords, when away haek Ik- found a void levy on which the title adverse to the widow r«'st<*d. and so won the rase settlinjr title in her and beat a collateral suit for possession a*rainst the old lady on the jrround that the courts of the state h»'ld thai an action of tr«'spass on real estate could not be maintaiiied where it had r(»ntinued for more than six vears. All he ever «rot from the old lady, who was nimty years old, was ^2.50. which a long time after she insisted on payin^^ fhou;:h he asked lier nothinj;. After winning: these cases h(* did not want foi- business, which was owiuj]^ as much to his indomital»l(- «'ner«;y as to his lejral lor»\ he left for the West, landinjr in nmaha over \]w Chicago & Northwestern railroad from Mirhijran. that bein^ the oidy road across Iowa at that time; crossed the Missouri on the ferrv Marrh lM>s. Omaha was then a small. straggling: place, most of the hotels and business places being on lower Farnam and Douglas streets.

Though the building of the I'nion l*aeiii<- railroad had passed that hell on earth, Jtdesburg. and got well into the mountains, and many of the worst characters had moved on in the procession of desperadoes and cut-throats. Omaha was still infested with a fearful gang: .seventy five men were killed the first year (iaslin was there, for which verv few were even arrested or known. After remaining in Omaha tintil the spring of ISTl. in Jime or the first of Jidy. with a party of two or three others, with a span of hardy horses and wagon and camping outfit, struck for southw**stern Nebraska, the B. & M. K. K. being then completed as far as Crc^e. They stru<k across the country to the Ke[>ublican valley in Nuckols county and then up the valley to ('olorado. The country was then little settled and west of Webster county no settlements of any conse^juence - two log buildings at Ked Cloud and nothing worth nientioniug beyond until th«* following year. (Jreat herds of butfalo. bands of wolves, elk, deer and ant«'lop«' and fiocks of wild turkeys and grouse greeted the eye on all sidc^s. On their return the party crossed the monotonous prairie on the divide between the Republican and Platte livers, all totally uninhabited, and visited the northwesterly part of the state, whirh west of Hall county was very little settled. He returned to Omaha in August, when he took a homestead in Harlan county, tiling his papers at the land office in Beatrice; lie spent tln^ fearful winter of 1871-2 on bis homestead, coninniting the same next spring and taking a pre-emption on which he made the requisite improvements with his own hands.

In June. 1ST2, he went to Lowell, where the United States land office was opened in July, and opened an office and commenced the practice of law, to which place the B. & M. R. K. reached that fall and was its terminus for quite a while. Fvowell was the terminus of the Texas cattle trail, vast herds reaching there in late spring or early summer, where the cattle were marketed and shipped east. The town was full of cowboys and cattlemen; saloons and gambling places were run wide open seven days and nights each week; little regard was [mid to law; money was plenty and all kinds of business booming; thousands of settlers poured into the country, bringing their families, and took up chiims and settling thereon, this being the outfitting place to southwestern Nebraska and for a long distance into Kansas. In a short time after the land office was opened seven men were shot and not one was punished for the crimes, and but one was tried, and he acquitted. About 1874 the land office was removed to Bloomington, in Fi^anklin county, and the railroad extended to Kearney, and like Carthage, Babylon, Ninevah and Sandusky, Ix)well fell.

In 1875 a constitutional convention was called. The convention divided the state into six judicial districts and created an independent supreme court. When the time approached for nomination of district judges, though not a candidate, Gaslin was urged to go before the Republican convention at Plum Creek, now Lexington, as a candidate, which he reluctantly consented to do. The campaign was lively and spirited, but Judge Gaslin was elected. When he ran for the second term, after civilizing and clearing the county of desperadoes and establishing law and order for four years, he had five votes more than the Republican and Democratic vote combined. When he w^as first elected bis district embraced W^ebster, Adams, Buffalo, Sherman, Custer, the unorganized county of Sioux, extending north to the Dakota line, attached to Cheyenne county for judicial purposes, and all the state west of these counties, comprising at least one-half of the territory of the state. Adams, Kearney and Buffalo counties, reached by the B. & M. R. R., and Buffalo, Dawson, Ivincoln, Keith and Cheyenne counties, traversed by the Union Pacific, were the only counties crossed by railroads when the judge first entered upon his judicial duties in January, 187G, there being thirteen counties besides the unorganized territory whose courts were held a long way from the railroad. At the end of his first term in 1870 he was nominated by the Republicans and indorsed by the Democrats, and was therefore elected with no opposition whatever. In the fall of 1883 he was again nominated by all parties and re-elected again without opposition, and apiin in ISST he was triuni[>hant]y re-elected. When lie entered upon the diseharjre of his oftieial duties as judjro his district was infested with murderers, thieves. drsiKMadoes and cut-throats of all grades and kind, and especially in Cheyenne, Lincoln and Kearney counties, and in fact, thoufrh the settlers on the public domain were first-class pcK)ple, there were scattered all over the district the worst kind of criminals, and in almost all the counties tliere were the worst kind of murders and crimes committed, and on the cattle ranjres, amonjr thf* employes. w(^re a larjre number (>f murdeiers and outhiws under assumed names who had tied from the South and extreme southwest part of the Tnited States and Indian territory. The district was full of horse and cattle thieves. Sidnev, in Chevenne coiintv. then the oulfittin<r and ship])in<: ]>oiiii on the Tninn Tacitic to and from the niack Hills, and where ther«* was a miltary post, was a very t<mp:h place, infested hv manv of the verv worst characters, aiul evervthiuir was run wide open without restraint.

Ojrallala. whik- it was tlie lerniiims of ilie sunt hern cattle trail, was another place wher(^ the worst kind of criminals c(ni^qe^ated. and North Platte was well represented \>\ a similar class. .Iiid^e (laslin's experience in his younjrer days with teii^hs and criminals, ci.nunji in contact with them as he went to sea and in kno( kinjr around the worhl. ami tlie way he had seen justice dealt out in raihhla and <lreat r»ritain. caused liim to profit by his observations and to put a stop to crinn^ by dealing out speedy, sure and severe punishment to contirmed and al»andoned criminals, (nmtending that the way to eradicate crime was to severely ]Minish it, and he had the courage and nerve to fearlesslv execute the law without fear or favor of anv one. Uein<i: a man in his prime, and of iron will, untiiinjr industry and application to the dischar^re of his judicial duties, and jk ssessed of a strong constitution and physi(|Ue of steel and perfectly feailess. runnin«r his courts from early morn until late at ni;;ht. dis]»osinji of tlie business without any frills or delays and doing it as fast as it couhl i)e well don«* and im]M>sing severe sentences on those who <leserved them, lie sonn rid tlie countrv of the worst of the criminals and inaugurated a reign of law and order, making life and proi>erty safe. It was indeed fortunate* that sncli a man was elected at that time. The people of the state, and «*specially those living in the old Fifth district are jnuch indebted to him and owe him a debt of graiituch* for what he did for them. His clean-cut. unsophisticated, blunt, crisp way of running his court and dispat<-hing business made him many enemies among the lawyers, none of whom had any ]»ull on him. as. indtMd. no one else. The first three years he was judge he i»resided over twenty-six murder trials, during the first six y(»ars forty-six. and during the sixteen years he was judge he presided over sixty-eight and other eases of felony would have to be numbered by the hundred - in fact, during his term as judge, the warden of the penitentiary regarded him as one of his most reliable patrons.

Though Judge Gaslin's district embraced about one-half of the state, and he traveled by wagon to reach two-thirds of the counties of the district, and had more criminal business than there was in any two districts in the state, yet he disposed of it all by holding court less than one-third of the time.

Judge Gaslin, hale and hearty, is now residing at Kearney, where he has been quietly practicing law since he left the bench in 1892, sx>ending the winter of that year, just prior to settling in Kearney, traveling in Old Mexico.

The writer of this sketch was born in Virginia in 1843. At the close of the Rebellion the state was so heavily laden with debt that every kind of business was at a standstill, and there were few openings. In the fall of 1873 1 was at Richmond attending a horticultural and pomological fair, where I was greatly struck by a grand display of the products of Nebraska. I there made up my mind that the great fertile west was the place for me, and from that time until I set my foot on this side of the Missouri I had a bad case of western fever.

In the spring of 1874 I helped to organize a party of eleven to go to Nebraska. The party consisted of C. R. Mathews, Amos Broughan, Wat Sifford, H. B. Andrews, George Snyder and wife, William King, W. P. Tolley, Henry Lemon, J. H. Withers and a man by the name of Circle, whose first name I have forgotten. We arrived at Omaha on the 4th day of April, 1874. From Omaha we proceeded to Kearney, and thence to Loup City. At this place we hired an outfit for the purpose of exploring the unorganized territory in the Middle Loup country, fording that river at a point near where the village of Wescott now stands. There were no roads of any kind, and we pushed on over hills and across valleys, through thickets of plum brush, not knowing what moment we would meet with some obstacle that would compel us to retrace our steps. When we reached Lillian creek it commenced snowing furiously. The banks of the creek were high and steep and the channd was full of raoQing water. Xot being able to find any better croBsiag iriace, we went to work and shaved the bank down, carried our load over a little at k time, and succeeded in landing our outfit safely on the opposite side of the creek. The storm increased to a regular blizzard and we concluded to camp there for the night. The wagon box was taken off and braced up on its side to afford us some protection from the fnry of the blast that now howled ot^ the prairie driving the blinding snow into our faces with stifling force. Andrews climbed a large cottonwood tree, cut off some dead limbs, and soon bad a blazing fire around which we lay wrapped up in our blankets, taking tnms keeping up the fire through the night. The following morning waa dear and bright and after a hasty breakfast we proceeded up the Middle Loop valley through big drifts of snow that made our journey both slow and tiresome. Near the mouth of Victoria creek we met some trappers who described the beantiefl of Victoria vnlh^v. wiili pure, cold springs gushing from its sides here and there. We followed up thr rreek until we came out on the hill jtist east of the present site of Xew llelcuji. We descended to the creek, but fonnd the banks so steep that we had to bring into play a couple of long cedar p<^es that had evidently been used by Indians or trappei-s. We laid these across the narrow channel, pushed our wagon over on this frail bridge and resumed our journey in a northwesterly direction about two miles and a half until we struck what is known in CuHter county as iht; Big Cedar canons. The one which we entered was a dense forest of cedar and other trees, with as onder- growth «o thick that it could hardly be penetrated. Pushing our way along this canon we emerged into a small clearing in the center of which stood an Indian wigwam. A cold chill ran over the party, but we soon discovered that the wigwam was empty, and took possession, spending a very comfortable night therein. After looking the country over a day or two we returned to Loup City, procured the necessary equipments for starting improvements on the claims we had selected, and were soon located in our new homes in the wilderness. This little settlement consisted of H. B. Andrews, Edward Nelson and the writer. Our nearest neighbors were at Loup City, a little village of about 100 inhabitants, where we did our trading. It was sixty miles from us. In the month of May, the same year, I met, at Loup City, George E. Carr and O. A. Smith, who had just arrived from Pennsylvania, and whom I induced to locate near us. The next settler was Ezra A. Caswell. Thomas Ijoughran took a claim further down the creek near the Middle Loup river. About the first of June Jacob Ross, with a large family of grown-up daughters, made quite a welcome addition to our little community. About this time the grasshoppers came along and devoured everything in the way of crops all over the state, a calamity which bore particularly hard on us, as our first crop in the county was completely destroyed before it was ready to harvest.

In September, 1874, 1 had the honor of being a delegate to the representative convention which met at Plum Creek. This representative district at that time embraced seventeen counties and was entitled to one member. M. V. Moudy of Lowell, Kearney county, received the nomination and was elected.

During the winter of 1874-5 I circulated a petition asking the authorities at Washington to establish a mail route from Kearney via Loup City, Arcadia and Douglass Grove, to New Helena, and we received the first mail over the route on April 15, 1875. I was appointed postmaster at this place, my commission bearing the date February 9, 1875. Aaron Crouch, the mail carrier, received the mail at this office every Saturday.

In May, 1876, there was a general uprising of the Sioux Indians, who resented the intrusion of parties who were at that time pushing through to the Black Hills. Most of the settlers in this county packed up their goods and hastened to Loup City. We rallied a few of the settlers and built a fort of cedar logs. I applied to Governor Garber for fourteen stands of arms

Isaac Merchant, George Carr, Jacob Ross, W. O. Boley, Samuel Wagner and his son, William, and the writer remained in the settlement while the other male members were removing the women and children to a place of safety. Our fears proved to be groundless, however. No Indians came to molest us, although a hunting party of Sioux camped for some time a few miles north of us. Most of the settlers came back that fall, a few only remaining away until the following spring.

In the fall of 1877 the Olive brothers came into the county with 15,000 head of cattle and established a ranch near the mouth of the Dismal river. Their cattle spread all over the western half of Custer county, causing untold trouble to the settlers. The cattlemen employed a lot of rough men from Texas, who had no respect for the rights of anybody. The writer has spent many a long night in keeping cattle out of his cornfield. One incident will serve to show the annoyance to which we were subjected by these lawless characters.

I had been contemplating a trip to Douglass Orove late in November, and had gathered ten or twelve bushels of corn to leave at the house to feed my stock while I was gone. It was in sacks in a wagon and I intended to start the next morning. That evening Bob Olive, alias Stevens, rode up with about a dozen of his cowboys and twenty-five or thirty ponies. He walked into the house without going through the formality of knocking at the door, and remarked that it was "awful d - d cold." He kindly told me that if I would give him enough corn to feed his herd of ponies that he would not turn them out to help themselves. I told him that I hoped he would not turn the horses out, as they would tear down my stacks and that he could have all the corn he wanted if he would go out in the field and husk it.

He made no further remark, but deliberately emptied the corn out on the ground, where it was soon eaten up by the horses. The outfit concluded to stay with me all night without asking my permission, helped themselves to my coffee and anything else they could find, wrapped themselves up in their blankets and went to sleep. Olive was taken sick during the night with cholera morbus and routed his men out to see if anything for his relief could be found in the settlement. There was no doctor within eighty miles, so they went to Mr. Boley's and came back with a bottle of camphor. Mrs. Ross also let them have a bottle of camphor, and Mrs. Forsyth, for a change, sent another bottle of camphor. Mrs. Longhran and Mrs. Merchant, having no other kind of medicine in their houses, also sent a bottle of camphor apiece. As the men came in one after the other with the camphor. Bob got as mad as a hornet and smashed the bottles on a saddle that hung in a corner of the room. During the same night our neighbor. Smith, had the honor of entertaining two or three of the cowboys. They piled into the bed alongside of him, with their clothes on, and enjoyed a good night's rest. When I got up the next morning I found one of my stacks of grain torn down and five or six horses on top of it.

At one time Judge Holbrook of Kearney county, and the Sutton brothers of Kearney, Buffalo county, went up on the Dismal on a hunting excursion. They did not return, and the next spring their bodies were found pierced with bullets. Robbery did not appear to have been the motive for the mnrder, as nothing had been taken from their camp and their money and valuables were found on their persons. Two of the bodies were found lying near the camp and the other some distance away, and it is not known to this dav who committed the horrible crime.

In the year 1878 the little settlement on Victoria creek raised good crops and as a better class of cattle men began to establish ranches in the country the settlers got good prices for all the grain and produce they had to sell. Henry Smith and Ernest Tee located a ranch on the Middle Loup river about fifteen miles from New Helena, and the Finch-Hatton brothers one up near the mouth of the Dismal in the fall of 1878. About this time the settlers in the northern part of the county became dissatisfied on account of the great distance to a polling place, which practically disfranchised them. The Legislature was asked to enact into law a bill which I drafted and which passed. Following is the bill:

"Each board of county commissioners shall divide the county into convenient precincts, and as occasion requires subdivide precincts or erect new precincts, alter precinct lines and whenever any portion of territory containing in the aggregate not less than one township of land nor more than four townships lying contiguous shall contain not less than fifteen voters, it shall be the dutj' of the board of county commissioners, upon receipt of a petition signed by a majority of such voters, to constitute such territory a new voting precinct."

In the spring and summer of 1879 the crops gave promise of an abundant harvest and the settlers looked forward to a good return for their lab<^. They were celebrating the Fourth of July in the most approved style, eating.

drinking and making merry, when a cloud no bigger than a man's hand was observed in the northwest, which grew with alarming rapidity nntil it overspread the whole heavens, and out of it came one of the most destructive hail storms this county ever experienced. The crops were literally beaten into the earth. Not a bushel of grain was harvested in Victoria valley that year. A few turnips sown after the hail storm were the only crop produced in that section. The log school house where the settlers were gathered to celebrate the Fourth, had three windows on the north side. The glass was broken into fragments by the hail, after which George Carr attempted the impossible feat of keeping out the storm by covering the three windows at one time with a blackboard long enough only to cover two. Men, women and children crowded into the building, terror stricken, some crying, some praying, and, I am sorry to record it, a few swearing. The hail streak was about four miles wide and passed down Clear creek, cleaning out the crops completely in its course. The settlers had to haul their feed and seed for the next year from Grand Island and Central City, 120 and 130 miles distant. In 1880 we had good crops, but the hardships and privations of these pioneer days have been lived through, and while some have fallen by the wayside and still others gone to "the land beyond the river," many of us remain to enjoy the fruits of our early trials, proud of our noble county and its splendid citizenship^ and confident of its continued growth and development.

The word "outlaw" sounds harsh to the average individual, and the thought at once presents itself to the mind that the person to whom it is applied must be a desperate character, and one having no right to life or liberty. This is altogether an erroneous idea. An outlaw is a man who in some way has violated the law of our land, and a very trifling thing may put one outside the pale of the law. The history of the individual whose name heads this sketch proves that the force of circumstances, rather than any inherent bad disposition, often causes men to lead lives which with other surroundings would be very much different. And while in his time Milton was accounted one of the most depraved outlaws that infested the plains, he has since reformed and rendered important service to the oflBcers of the law.

And Short Sketches Of Kablt Dats In Nebraska

Dick Milton, which is not his true name, but which will suffice for this narratlTe, was bom in Texas and came to Nebraslia in 1875 over the trail of the immense herds of cattle as a cowboy. In 1876, during the Black Hills excitement, he worked for a big freighting outfit, Pratt & Ferris, He was night herder. It was his duty to take the mules or oxen belonging to the outfit at night to some convenient ft'cding ground near the trail, herd them ilnring the night and have them ready for a start in the morning. He slept in the wagons during the day as they traveled along. Roving bands of Indians infested the plains at this early day and they resented the encroachment of tlie white man, following wagon trains and watching for a chance to pillage and murder. This made the duty of night herder extremely dangerous, and it took a man of iron nerve to serve in that capacity. The wages were high. Milton performed his work faithfully and to the entire satisfaction of his employers. It is on one of the return trips of this freighting outfit, at Sidney, Nebraska, that the career of this man, as an outlaw, begins. And, as far as we know, n'hat transpired at this time and place laid the foundation for his many wild and daring deeds of outlawry.

At tliat time Sidney was an important station on the overland trail. It was an outfitting station for Black Hills freighters, a favorite resort for gamblers, desperadoes and the shifting and heterogeneous population of the border. It was also a military poet. Among the many saloons and gambling houses that ran wide open in this lively frontier city, one of the most popular was Joe Lane's dance hall, known in early days as the Saratoga house. On the night ujwn which the Pratt & Ferris freighting outfit struck the town, as mentioned above, this resort was filled to overflowing with a mixed crowd of freighters, mule skinners and others who had just come in for loads of freight for the Black Hills, watching for opportunities to flirt with the feminine portion of the crowd. This diversion was a great change from the monotony of their lives, traveling for days and weeks at a snail's pace over the long, dusty trail, sleeping in wagons at night with a Winchester for a pillow and expecting to be awakened at any moment by the blood-curdling war whoop of a band of savages. On this occasion they were determined to throw care to the winds for one night and have a good time. The place was full of gamblers, cowboys and bad men galore, seemingly from all parts of the earth. Some were gathered in groups in front of the bar drinking, others were singing snatches of ribald songs, while still others were watching the dancers who were whirling around in the giddy waltz. It was soldiers' night, and no one was allowed to participate in the dance unless he wore the uniform of blue. The hours glided by and the crowd became more mellow and the dance wilder. White-aproned waiters were kept busy rushing to and fro with drinks that were called for with increasing frequency by soldiers who were anxious to show their gallantry to their fair companions, even to the extent of blowing in their whole month's pay in a single night. The crowd around the bar grew more boisterous as the hours passed by, and drunken men wrangled and boasted of deeds that would bring the blush of shame to even their cheeks in their soberer moments. Milton and a friend were standing near a soldier and his fair companion. The soldier wore the straps of a sergeant. As the dance stopped for a moment the girl turned to Milton and, shaking her blonde curls saucily, taunted him about being out of luck in not wearing a uniform that he might join in the dance. The sergeant was greatly displeased with this familiarity upon the part of his companion with a common herder of mules and oxen, and at the next pause in the dance he tried to force a fight with the young man, who tried to avoid any trouble. We have it from an eye witness that what followed was entirely the fault of the hotheaded sergeant, who forced the fight which ended his career. In a moment everything w^as confusion and uproar in the place and the two men were locked in a fierce struggle. The music ceased and a stampede was made for that part of the room in which the fight was going on. It was a mob of drunken and liquor-crazed men and women. Milton was getting the best of his antagonist when the other soldiers in the room took a hand in the fight and kicked and beat the herder unmercifully. The sharp report of a revolver was heard in the melee and the sergeant fell back into the arms of one of his friends. The lights were suddenly extinguished, leaving the great hall in total darkness and pandemonium indescribable. The trampling and fighting of the mob to reach the open air can be better imagined than described, and we leave the reader to imagine the scene that followed. The i)oor herder escaped in the darkness and confusion. A price was set upon his head. Friends offered to furnish money to defend him if he would stand a trial. He avoided his pursuers for a time, was finally captured and escaped to the wilds of northern Nebraska, which was at that time, to a great extent, unorganized territory, where bad men roamed at will knowing no law but the six-shooter and the bowie knife. Whenever he tried to work the bloodhounds of the law would get on his track and he was compelled to move on. At last he gathered a band of daring outlaws around him and it is said did a wholesale business in running off whole herds of ponies belonging to the Indians, and becoming a terror to law-abiding citizens. Milton fell in with a young man about twenty-five years of age, five feet ten inches tall, a fine looking fellow with dark hair and eyes, the last man on earth that one would have taken for an outlaw. This man and Milton took a liking to each other and naturally fell in as pals. For convenience we will call the young man Ed Smith. He and Milton seemed to be natural leaders and planned many daring raids which were carried out by the band. The Sioux Indians had thousands of ponies in the southwestern part of Dakota and the northwestern part of Nebraska, and this band would go up into that country, four or ^ye strong, find a bunch of ponies ranging in the hills, wait until night and then drive seventy-five or a hundred of them south, traveling night and day until they were beyond danger of pursuit by the Indians. They would strike the North Platte river west of the town of North Platte, find a certain well known ranchman, sell the bunch, turn them across the river between the two forks, then come back and drift down the South Loup river. They soon became very well known all over the central portion of the state. Milton and Smith were both men of good address, pleasant sort of fellows, and assumed great credit to themselves because they never stole horses except from the Indians. In the degenerate days of the present, the code of morals by which these men regulated their conduct would appear a trifle lame, but in the wild days of which we are writing the aborigine was considered a common enemy who- had no rights which white men were bound to respect or even consider. It is said that at one time Milton and Smith, with three men, made a dash on a bunch of horses and succeeded in getting about 140 of them. The Indians had lost so many iwnies that they had become cautious and night-herded them, making it more difficult for the thieves to get the start of them. There was a short time, however, between the watches in the even- iiifj when thf iH)iik'fi were um j;iiar(ifd. Tiikinfi iidvaiitac"* of this. Milton and his uicd hukIl' a IhjIQ dai^li. knowing iliat tli<-y were takinjr desperate chances. They crowded tlie herd at full speed all night, not knowing how soon ther would have in turn and fight the pursuing owners of the horseB. They headed for the I'lalte river, .is uxnnl. keeping their booty on the move night and day until they crossf^'d the Middh- Loup river, keeping a sharp lookout all the time for the savages. Not having swn anything of them, after crossing the Middle Loup they were lulled into security, and as men and beasts were alike worn out by their rapid and ceaseless flight, they concluded to stop in a small valley for a liirle needed rest and refreshment, and to let the ponies feed. Turning all their saddle horses loose with the herd of ponies, with the exception of one which they put on a lariat, they lay down to take a nap. They little dreamed that savage eyes were watching then) from a high bluff a short distance in the rear. When they awoke they found themselves afoot and alone, many miles from any habitation, with very little provision and no horses, except the one that had been picketed near their camp. .\ man was put in the saddle and sent in hot porsait of the horses, which they supposed had gone off of their own accord, but when he came in sight of them he was thunderstruck to find that they were being driven back by a score of Sioux warriors. It is a mystery to this day why the Indians did not kill and scalp the men while they slept. Perhaps they had heard the old saw: "It is best to let sleeping dogs alone." When the man returned to the camp with the new® of this alarming discovery a consultation was held, and one of their number was dispatched for provisions and a new mount of horses.

A short time after this adventure Milton and Smith, with two or three others, were reconnoitering a large Sioux camp on the Niobrara river. Just as they had reached a jwsition southwest of the camp a band of Sioux came dashing upon them from the southwest with a war whoop. They were on a ridge. To go west or south meant death at the hands of the savages, who were closing in on them from both of these i)oints. To go east would take them into the Indain camp, which waa now all confusion, with the savages running to and fro, catching their ponies and securing weapons, having been aroused by the war whoop of their companions. All the show for escape was to the north towards the river, which they proceeded to make for as fast as their horses could carry them, the savages only a little behind them in full pursuit, rending the morning air with their blood-curdling yells. In a few minutes the flying white men were on the bank of the stream, which they found to their dismay to be straight up over ten feet above the water. There was no time to look for a better crossing. The Indians, knowing the situation and feeling certain that they had the enemy at bay, redoubled their yells and rushed forward like a pack of demons. There was but one alternative open to the hapless Milton and his companions, and that was a leap for life into the boiling flood below. The leap was made, horses and riders disappearing under the icy cold waters of the river, but soon emerging and reaching a small island in the middle of the stream, covered with a dense growth of underbrush, into which they pulled themselves and horses and prepared to defend themselves in case they were followed. But the Sioux did not follow, and contented themselves by firing a few shots into the thicket which did no damage.

A funny anecdote is told of Milton when visiting a cattle ranch at one time. A cowboy was having an immensely good time by making an old man dance. Every time the old man would stop the cowboy would shoot at his feet and make him go at it again, until he was almost exhausted. Milton looked on a few minutes and thought he would take a hand in the game. He motioned the old man to one side and ordered the cow puncher to give an exhibition of his skill as a terpsichorean artist. The cowboy thought Milton was joking at first, and hesitated, but a shot from an ugly looking gun plough- ing up the dirt about an inch from his big toe set his feet to going, and he had an opportunity to quit only when he dropped down in a heap from sheer exhaustion. When he recovered his breath and his senses he was advised to take some one of his own size and age the next time he wanted any fun of that sort.

Upon another occasion Milton was riding along the Niobrara river when he discovered another hoi^eman riding along leisurely ahead of him. going the same way. He spurred up his horse and was soon alongside the stranger, who was a gawky young country bumpkin, about eighteen years of age, with a big revolver stuck in his belt, and wearing high boots with red tops. The following conversation took place:

"Yes. sir. I have been to see my brother up in Holt county, and there is a d - d old horse thief named Dirk Milton who is scaring evervbodv out of their wits. I wish I could get a look at him. He couldn't scare me."

Milton looked the looking fellow over and concluded, to use a western phrase, that he was *'windy.'' They joggc^i along chatting sociably for awhile, the young fellow taking occasion every few minutes to express his opinion of the horse thief. Milton finally became tired of this sort of thing, and drew his revolver out and said:

"Young man, you are talking to Dick Milton,'' at the same time reaching over and taking the revolver out of the young fellow's belt. "Now, yonng man, you're entirely too fresh for this cotmtry, and I'll have to ask you to turn that outfit over to me and hoof it if you are going any farther."

"Well, you have the drop on me. You are perfectly welcome to the outfit, but it's pretty tough on a fellow to be turned loose afoot ten miles from anvwhere."

"Never mind, young man: it will teach you a lesson not to be bo funny the next time you meet a stranger; so now you had better get off that horse and take to your hoofs."

The boy paid no attention to this invitation, but continued to argue the matter until it was finally agreed that he might ride until they came to a sheep camp a few miles ahead, where he was to turn his horse over to his companion. They rode along, talking about this and that, and every little while the boy would scratch his leg furiously, make a wry face and complain that the fleas were eating him up, which he said he had gotten at the ranch where he had dept last night Milton paid no attention to the actions of the boy in his fight with the fleas. When but a short distance from the sheep ranch where the boy was to deliver up his horse, Milton, who had been looking the other way, turned towards the boy and found himself looking down the barrel of an ugly looking revolver which the young man had fished out of his boot during one of his excursions after fieas.

Milton saw by the determined look in the boy's face that he had caught a bad man, and thinking discretion the better part of valor, surrendered as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, while the kid coolly divested him of his arms and also the revolver which he had taken so adroitly from the boy but a few moments before.

Then, riding backwards on his horse, rode off, leading Milton's horse and covering Milton with his own Winchester, till, reaching a small hill, he placed his fingers to his nose and disappeared. Milton was never able to locate him, but we have our suspicions that it was the same green looking youth held up by the vigilants at Games' bridge, and who found they had caught a tartar. (See Lynching of Kid Wade.)

In the fall and winter of 1878 Smith and Milton made the South Loup their headquarters, Olive's ranch being a favorite resort. The ranchmen did not care to make enemies of these men, as their stock were scattered from ten to twenty miles in every direction, and were at the mercy of such characters unless they took the Judge Lynch method of disposing of them. For this reason they were allowed to 'stay about the ranches by common consent. Milton and Smith had some amusing experiences in dodging the sheriffs, Pat O'Brien of Custer county, and Dick James of Dawson county. Both of these officers would have liked to capture the outlaws for the sake of the reward that was offered. Pat O'Brien called on several ranchmen one night to help capture them. Among the men present were Al Wise, Frank Cozad, Milo Young and Anton Abel. The men were supposed to be at the Olive ranch, which was surrounded and watched the long night through, only to find in the morning that the birds had fiown and were discovered on a high bluff near by with a field glass marking the besiegers for future reckoning. That day the two daring men called on every man who had been in the party and gave each to understand that in case the offense was repeated that they might expect trouble. They played a game of hide and seek with the sheriff for several days. O'Brien would ride up to Al Wise and inquire if he had seen Milton to-day. Upon receiving an answer in the negative he would ride away to interview the next neighbor. About as soon as he was out of flight Milton would ride up and inquire of Al if he had seen anything of Pat

And Short Sketches Of Early Days In Nebraska. J81

(VBrien that day. Upon being informed that the gentleman had just that moment disappeared over the hill, he would get off his horse, help Al with whatever work he was doing for a while, and then ride off in the wake of the sheriff. One day he was at the Olive ranch, when who ehould walk in but Pat O'Brien. Quick as lightning Milton was on his feet with a 44 Colt's almost in the face of the astonished sheriff, who, for an instant, thought his time had come, as he looked down the muzzle of the huge weapon that almost tickled his nose.

With this he made his way to the door, covering the sheriff with his revolver as he backed out, and disappeared. O'Brien remained in the house for a short time chatting, and when he went out found that Milton had taken his horse and left him to go afoot.

One night Milton and Smith were stopping at the Cottonwood ranch, near where Callaway now stands, when the mail carrier drove up and handed John Dyer a letter. Smith stepped up and said: "I wouldn't mind seeing that letter."

Dyer tried to put him off by telling him it was from his sister. Smith coolly pulled his gun, took the letter, read it and passed it over to Milton.

Phil Dufrand

The writer of the letter was foreman of the Cottonwood ranch, and at this time was in thi& Plum Creek jail as an accomplice of the Olive gang, and Dyer had been left to take care of the ranch during the enforced absence of the regular foreman.

Dufrand had a fine driving team by the name of Prank and Fox and Smith saddled Fox and the two outlaws rode away. It is needless to say that Dick James and his poese made a waterhaul. As soon as James had gone back to Plum Creek the two men returned and Smith left the horse he bad borrowed in the morning and took his own.

The last time that Milton and Smith were in Custer county was in 1879. They were stopping at the Olive ranch, and Kid Wade and Black Bill were with them. When next heard of they were at the Water Hole ranch, fourteen miles north of Sidney. They had gone from the Olive ranch to the Cottonwood ranch and took Frank and Fox with them. Jim Gray, a cowboy, who was sleeping in the barn, put up a stiff fight, but the outlaws returned his shots with interest whenever the flash of his revolver showed where Gray was. They got away with the horses just to pay off Phil Dufrand for trying to help capture them. From the Cottonwood they proceeded, first making a call at the Brighton ranch and Frank Cozad's. While at the Water Hole ranch the officers got wind of their whereabouts, and they prevailed upon a gambler and desperado, named McDonald, who was acquainted with MUton. to go ont and persuade the two men to come to Sidney. Milton was too wary to be caught in that way, but Smith (being a straugeri took the chances and accompanied the gambler back, riding Dufrand's horse. Fox. McDonald persuaded Smith not to go heavily armed, as it would arouse suspicion. As they entered Sidney they rode through a freighter's camp, when the officers sprang out and shouted: ^'Throw up your hands!" At the same moment McDonald jerked away Smith's revolver and pinned his arms to his side. Smith threw himself from his horse, wrenched himself loose from McDonald's grasp, and would have gotten away had an officer not tilled him with a load of buckshot which ended his career on the spot. Milton heard of this and made his escape to a more congenial clime. A short time after this McDonald murdered a liveryman in cold blood at Sidney, which so incensed the citizens that they took him out to a telegraph pole, placed a ladder against it, fixed a rope with a hanging noose and gave him the choice of hanging himself or having it done by them. The miserable wretch, seeing that there was no escape f<wr him, climbed the ladder, adjusted the rope about his neck, «aid "good day, gentlemen," and jumped off into eternity.

Detectives soon got on Milton's trail and determined to capture him by fair means or foul. They sent him word that they had a pardon for him, signed by the governor, which in order to become effective would have to be signed by Milton, with a promise to lead a better life in the future. Of course this was a ruse to get hold of Milton, but it appears that he took it in good faith. A meeting was had and Milton agreed to sign the document and reform. Hazen and Llewellyn, the two detectives, and Kid Wade, accompanied by Milton, started to a house to get pen and ink to sign the paper. Th^ne was a dense thicket on the road which they had to pass by on their way to the house and the detectives had previously placed a man in this thicket to kill Milton as he passed by, as it did not appear to be a part of their plan to try to take him alive. They rode toward the thicket, Llewellyn ahead, Wade next, Milton third and Hazen behind. As they got opposite the timber the man concealed attempted to carry out his part of the program, but his gun missed fire, and quick as a flash of lightning Milton saw that he was in a trap. He turned and shot at Hazen, who had dropped from his horse on the opposite side and who shot Milton very badly through the hip, causing him to fall from his horse which galloped away carrying hie Winchester with him, which no doubt saved the detective's life. With an oath Milton chased Hazen around his horse, saying: "You have given me my death wound and I'll give you yours," shooting him three times and leaving him for dead. The man in the thicket did not stop to see who came out ahead in the fight, but got away from the vicinity as fast as he could. As he played the part of a murderer and a coward we will not chronicle his name. As soon as the shooting commenced Kid Wade drew his revolver and commenced firing at Llewellyn, and it is said that an exciting running fight followed, both men firing at each other while their horses were on the gallop. The Kid's revolver became emptied first and be turned out of the road to seek safety, while Llewellyn never drew rein on his horse until he reached Fort Hartsuff twentv-five miles distant, where he got together a squad of soldiers headed by Happy Jack, a United States scout. They found Hazen still alive. Happy Jack soon located Milton, who surrendered. He was tried and sentenced to five years' imprisonment, but shortened his term a year and a half by good behavior. When he got out of prison he declared he was tired of the kind of life he had been leading and promised to settle down as a law-abiding citizen. He kept his promise and was upon several occasions instrumental in assisting to bring criminals to punishment.

Milton is at this time a business man in a neighboring state, is marshal of the town in which he lives and is doing all he can to atone for the exj^oits in which he took a prominent part in the cowboy days of central Nebraska.

The coyote whose photograph, taken from life, appears here, is one of the natural productions of Custer county, where, on account of his chickenstealing proclivities, he has been voted a pest and a nuisance.

Perhaps we can not more fittingly conclude our description of the coyote than by reproducing the following extracts from the pen of George B. Mair of

"The coyote is quite a large anima], although some of them are not bo mncb BO. They do most of tbeir rustling nights, when honest folks are supposed to be in bed, and attend to their sleeping in the daytime. Once in a while one etayB out antil after daylight. On Buch occasions he may be seoi making a sneak across the prairie in the direction of his hole, with his tail between his bind legs, looking about to see if tie has been discovered, and ttying to invent some story to tell his wife when he gets borne.

"WTiat he lacks in beauty is more than made up in ugliness. Hie knowledge that he is no beauty bas undoubtedly soured bis originally sunn; disposition and caused him to shun society and look out of the comers of his eyes.

"The crowning glory of the coyote is his magnificent voice. We have beard the roar of the fierce Xumidian iion in his den at Furepaagh's circni and the melodious yahoo of the jackass, but we never realized tbe weird and sablime power of music until we attended a moonlight rehearsal given by a pack of coyotes the first night we struck Custer county.

among him. Some day the last gray-headed ixatriarch will sit on the brow of yon beetling cliff, with his form silhouetted against the rising moon, and he will be seen no more.

"Well, colonel, the fact is that while Mr. Westbrook was digging a water main near the Globe hotel in Broken Bow a few days ago he dug up from six feet underground a rusty looking object which was circular in form and about twice the size of a silver dollar. Upon cleaning off the rust with which it was incrosted he found that it was a silver medal. Mr. Westbrook has already been offered fifty dollars for it."

"Yes, indeed; they are remarkably plain and well-preserved to be seventyfive years old. The medal weighs about two ounces and bears on one side this inscription: ^Jamee Adams, President U. S., 1825,' with a picture of the president; on the. other side are two clasped hands, one of which has a coat sleeve, showing civilization, while the other is bare, indicating that of the savage, while above the hands is crossed the pii)e of peace and the tomahawk with the words: Teace and Friendship.' There is a hole bored in the medal at the top which shows to my mind that it has been worn around the neck of some person - ^presumably a dusky warrior of the plains - and that it had been given by the President as a token of some treaty of peace. But what puzzles me is to account for its being found buried six feet under the ground i^ Broken Bow. What is- your theory, colonel?"

The colonel's eyes sparkled with their old-time fire as he answered: "Well, Mr. Historian, for once you may consider yourself a lucky man, as I believe I can solve the mystery."

Pionkek Histoby Op Cl'Steb Codntv

aHeendinj;. Now, if lliiw wci-c iinc, every precjuition iiiiikI be mkeii not to b<' dJHCOvered, for llie Sioux iti peace and Ilii' Sionx in «ai- are two entirely different propositioivji. Sinre I lie day before 1 had bnilt no lire and was anxiouBly awaiting; the return of Mike who had fjwne north abont a week beftire. I knew he was uantionH ax he wae brave, and would take caii' of himself imlees he wei-e anibnHlie<l. Al. Itnrner. alias l.liek Seymoin-, or Bloody Diek. as he waa sonietimea called, and hin brother, stayed with me all nijiht and eonttrmed the nimor. These yoniiK fellows were butTalo Itiinters and trappers and were on their way to North Platte with fnrs. il met Hloody Dick a few days ago and he tells me that he has married and has been Hviiig on the Middle Loup Bince 1882.1

Our camp was in a d(;ep ravine or dry gorjje covered completely over with a dense growth of timber or iiuderbrnsh, and amply hidden from Bight of any prowling savages that might pass up or down the valley, unless they stumbled upon us by accident. The day wore along and Mike failed to put in an appearance; the sun sunk into the western horizon in a halo of glory and the night came on apace. The little screech owl quavered out his mournful and deepy notes as if he were cold. They had hardly died away in the night air before a sharp, plaintive wail was heard, like a human being in distress, which gradually rose higher and higher until it became a shriek which then grew fainter and fainter until it seemed a mile awav. Then suddenlv the stillneas was broken by its mate answering from an adjoining tree. These bobcats had scented blood and were figuring on making a meal from the saddles of a fine black-tailed deer which I had killed the day before and hung up lemptingly on a limb just out of their reach. The darkness was so intense that it could almost be felt, and 1 did not retire until long after midnight. As I sat in the solitude of my surroundings every faculty of hearing was at constant strain to catch the first footfalls of old High-Knocker, Mike's old sorrel horse, of whom the owner was as proud as a girl of her first beau. And justly so, for he was a fine specimen of horse flesh, a thoroughbred racer, and could easily distance any pony the Indians x>ossessed, and had often carried Mike out of danger when he was hard pressed by the red devils.

The moon arose clear about 10 o'clock, but still Mike did not appear, and no sound could be heard but the sharp and angry bark of a pack of coyotes as they fought over the carcass of a horse which had belonged to a freighting outfit pushing through to the Black Hills. Finally becoming tired of watching and waiting I retired to my dugout, or cache, in the bank, rolled myself up in my blanket and x)assed the remainder of the night in fitful slumber, filled with horrid dreams wherein was mixed the little screech owl with his great eyes, and the bobcat glaring at me from his tree with balls of fire, while Mike had been killed by the bloody savages and 1 was on old High-Knocker flying for my life with the Indians in full pursuit. I was awakened by a alight crackling noise near me and I started to my feet grasping my trusty rifle. I saw Mike standing in the door of our rude little hut with a look of grave importance on his face. 1 glanced out past him and discerned the sun shining brightly and old High-Knocker standing in the bottom of the gorge with drooping head and foam-flecked sides, showing plainly that he had be^i ridden long and hard. 1 pulled myself together and said: ''Good morning, Mike; you look like you had seen the ghost of your grandmother; speak up, man; what's the news?"

"Och, sor, news is it? Sure an' there's news enough. The rid divils is all stured up for sure this toime, an' it's not the loikes of me that's goin' to be

"Well, ye see, sor, I had rached the Muddy valley, and found the shmall strarae they call a creek and picked me out a campin' place near a big hill where I could see - "

'*Beg your pardon, colonel. As I was sayin', I looked up the valley and thin I looked down the valley, an' I says to mesilf says I, ^here's the foinest valley in Nebraska for farmin', an' ' - "

"Saw any, did ye say? Now wouldn't that kill yez. Do you suppose I'd have ridden ould High-Knocker loike that just for the fun of the thing? As I was sayin', I looked acrass the valley an' I saw a sight that made me hair push me hat aff me head, so I did. I saw three big pillars of shmoke arisin' out of the bluffs on the other side. Sez I to mesilf, sez i, that ould spalpeen, Crow Dog, is up|to some of his devilmint. An' as it was near sundown I sez to mesilf, sez I, I'll see phwat the ould hay then is up^to. I gave High-Knocker some grain I had in a sack and ate some baiver tail and could potaties, not wishing to make a fire. I waited till darkness surrounded the horizon, knowing that the moon didn't rise till - "

"Mike, if you ever want to ask a girl to marry you, and you are as long in getting to the i)opping point as you are in telling what you saw on this trip, the girl would probably go to sleep and miss the half of what you said and never know how near she came to becoming Mrs. O'Rafferty."

"I see ye're pokin' fun at me now, colonel. As I was sayin', there would be no moon till tin o'clock, so, tightening the cinches on ould High-Knocker, lookin' to see that me revolvers was handy, an' takin' me . directions be the north star, cautiously - "

"That's thrue, sor, but I located the north star before sundown - ^in fact, early in avenin' - and I thin followed the direction. Foinally I shmelled shmoke and by foUyin' the scint I came to the fut of the bluffs, hobbled ould

High-Knocker, thin cautiously worked me way toward the shmoke which came down from the other side av the bluffs. Whin I rached the top and looked over it chilled the blood in me veins, so it did. But I sez to mesilf, sez I, 'Mike O'Rafferty, sure ye are no coward, an' this is not the first tight idace ye've been in wid the rid si>alpeens, an' ye've come here to find out phwat that ould Crow Dog. is up to, and yondher he sits be that big camp fire, wid 500 haythens seated in a circle if there's fifty. He is holdin' a council of some kind an' ye must hear phwat he says.' So maneuverin' to take advantage of the inimy's position, as our captain used to say, I shliped along in the darkness to within a few fate of Orow Dog, and where it would have been very awkward to have explained me business to the ould haythen without lyin' about it if a sthray dog had shmelled me out. Whin Crow Dog rose to his fate and waved his hand, I could hear the batin' of me own heart, and the war j^aint shmeared on the faces of the rid divils flashed in the fire till they looked like painted fiends."