Soldiers from the nearest fort were sent for, and several miners were arrested, but it was found impossible to get sufficient evidence to convict them. The Chinese Consul from Washington had just been there investigating the brutal affair, and was returning in the same train with us. In Mr. William Black's "Green Pastures and Piccadilly" there is an interesting description of Cheyenne as it was some twelve years ago. There was a time, not long previous to Mr. Black's visit, when this now thriving little city had earned for itself the name of "Hell upon Wheels," and I was told by an inhabitant who lived there then, when the Union Pacific Railway was being made, and the city comprised a long row of saloon tents, that bowie knives and six-shooters were freely used in the settlement of disputes, and that three or four murders a week were the average, to say nothing of fights with Sioux Indians. Cheyenne had settled down from these exciting times when Mr. Black arrived there, and he found "nothing about its outward appearance to entitle anyone to call it 'Hell on Wheels.'" "Certainly," he says, "the Cheyenne we saw was far from being an exciting place; there was not a single corpse lying at any of the saloon doors, nor any duel being fought in the street." Of the outskirts of Cheyenne, he says:— "The odd fashion in which shanties and sheds—with some private houses here and there—are dotted down anyhow on the plain; their temporary look; the big advertisements; the desolate and homeless appearance of the whole place, all serve to recall the dismal scene that is spread around the Grand Stand on Epsom Downs on the morning after Derby Day, when the revellers have all returned to town.... We drove out to a lake which will no doubt form an ornamental feature in a big park, when the Black Hill miners, gorged with wealth, come back to make Cheyenne a great city." Mr. Black will be pleased to know that his prophecy has been, to some extent, fulfilled. Cheyenne is now a most pleasant city. The big park has been formed; the streets are broad, and lined with trees; the houses are well-built; there are stores there which would almost rival Whiteley's or Shoolbred's in the magnitude and variety of their contents, and perhaps surpass them in their outward appearance. The outskirts are now dotted, I might rather say crowded, with very charming "Queen Anne" villas, surrounded by well-laid-out lawns, flower-beds, and creeping foliage, reminding one not so much of Epsom Downs, as of that æsthetic suburb of London known as Bedford Park, only that the houses are larger and better built, and in their furniture display an exuberance of wealth and good taste. There are two fine hotels, several churches and chapels, and a delightful little club-house, where we were most hospitably entertained.