I tried to dissuade him from running any risk, but he would not listen to me. He said: "I will ride towards town; if I reach there without encountering the mob I will get a fresh horse and stand guard at the bridge." He then left. I afterward learned that he reached town with his horse completely broken down, and applied to all their livery stables for another, but was told that they were all engaged (doubtless to the mob). After my brother's departure, the deputy sheriff removed one of the hand-cuffs from my wrist, fastened it on his own, and got in bed with me, Hathaway and Powell, the proprietors of the house, standing guard. Shortly after Breen retired I dropped off asleep. I had slept for some time when I heard Hathaway call to Breen in an undertone: "Wake up, Nick, they are coming!" I immediately awoke my sleeping bed-fellow, who, jumping up, listened for a moment. Breen stopped to listen again, when Hathaway exclaimed, "For God's sake, Nick, hurry up; they are right here!" Hathaway was white as a sheet, and held a double-barreled shot-gun in his hands in a determined manner, while Breen hastily picked up his pants from the floor, took out the key of the hand-cuffs, and taking me by my extended wrist, loosened it (it seemed an age, while he was feeling in his pocket for the key). At this instant I heard the fiends for the first time. They were then about one hundred yards from the house. I hurriedly put on my pants, shoes and vest, and catching up my coat, I made a hasty exit out of the back door. As I did so, a terrible shout went up from the throats of the mob, which sounded like the yells of devils from the lower regions, and I thought they had discovered me as I passed out of the door. As soon as I reached the open air I got down on my hands and knees and crawled very softly about fifty yards from the house, when I stopped and put my ear to the ground to see if they were yet on my track. The fog was very thick; one could not see three yards ahead. I listened for a second; then taking off my shoes to prevent making a noise, and putting on my coat, I crawled about one thousand yards. I then stopped to think what was best for me to do to outwit those seeking my life. I argued to myself that it was best to tack back toward Merced, as the mob would be apt to pursue me northward and eastward that night. They would imagine, so I thought, that I would flee before them and strike for the Merced river; so I concluded to go where they would least expect to find me. I would return and strike Bear Creek, which has very high banks and a narrow channel, but which at that time contained no water. If I could reach the creek (which was some seven miles off) before day-break, I knew I would be safe for one day, at least, provided I was very cautious. With this resolution formed, I listened for a few seconds, and hearing nothing, I started to make a semi-circle of the Half-Way House in order to get on the other side of it.