The ebb and flow of the tide of battle from the great centres where the armies of Lee, Meade, Grant, Buell, and Bragg struggled reached this far-off frontier and drew a line of cleavage between the fiery Southerners and the steadfast Northerners who made up the population. Nevada had been made a territory and the fight was on for statehood. President Lincoln backed the party which demanded admission. The reasons were both political and financial. Later, Abraham Lincoln said that Nevada, through the treasures of gold and silver which it poured to the national capital, had been worth a million men to the Union cause. His wood contract finished, Hugh took temporarily a place with the express company as shotgun messenger. The job was a very dangerous one. Hold-ups were frequent, and the messenger did not get or expect an even break. In the narrow twisting cañons below the town it was easy to lie in ambush and surprise the stage as it carried bullion from the mines. Hugh was lucky. His stage was “stuck up” once, but it chanced that no bullion was on board. On another occasion he was wounded in an attempt at robbery and left one of the bandits lying in the road with a load of buckshot in him. His own wound was slight. People began to say that he bore a charmed life. The boy’s reputation for gameness was growing. Bob Howland, a nephew of the territorial governor, Nye, was city marshal. He asked young McClintock to be his deputy. “We’re going to clean up this town and I need help. You’ll sure have a merry time.” Hugh declined. “No, I’m going into the army right away, soon as I hear from Scot. I’ll stick with the stage till then.” Hugh had occasion next day to go into the Glory Hole to speak with a man. He saw Bob Howland talking to the girl dealing faro. The marshal walked across the floor and joined McClintock. He was smiling. “Come outside,” he said quietly. They strolled out together. “Jimmy Sayres was killed this morning by Johnny Rogers,” Howland explained. “You know Rogers is working for Johnson on his ranch at Smith’s Valley. Jimmy and a couple of other bummers were passing through Wellington Station and picked up a good saddle horse belonging to Johnson. Johnny buckled on his Colt’s navy and hit the trail after them. Seems he caught up with them near Sweetwater Station. They fired at him. He got busy right then, and Sayres quit taking any interest in the proceedings. The other two thieves broke for the willows. Johnny took the horse back with him. Good work, I say.” “Sayres is one of the San Francisco gang. Isn’t that likely to make trouble? The gang will be out for revenge.” “Captain Palmer has served notice on them to lay off Johnny Rogers. If they don’t we’ll organize a branch of the vigilantes, as they did at Virginia not long since.” “Then it’s a showdown?” “It’s a showdown.”