Some weeks after the discharge of the invaders, Dudley Champion, a brother of Nathan, was shot and killed by Mike Shonsey, one of the late prisoners. Champion came down the cattle trail in search of work, and at a point about 20 miles northeast of Lusk fell in with an outfit from Texas. During the evening meal Shonsey rode up, and for a time pleasant conversation was carried on between the entire party. Suddenly Shonsey raised his gun and fired, killing Champion instantly. Shonsey, accompanied by a lad who was in the employ of the Texans, immediately started for Lusk, where he gave himself up to the officers. A preliminary hearing was at once had, the boy swearing that Champion drew his revolver first, and that Shonsey fired in self-defense. This, of course, relieved Shonsey from blame, and he was released. A few hours later he took the train for Cheyenne, arriving in that city at midnight. The next morning he settled up with George W. Baxter, in whose employ he had been, and took the afternoon train south, presumably going to Mexico and out of reach of the law. Twenty-four hours after Shonsey’s release by the court at Lusk other witnesses arrived, and it was claimed that Champion had made no gun play and that his killing was unprovoked, cold-blooded murder on the part of Shonsey. But the information came too late--the murderer was flying southward and out of reach. Thus was added another crime to the long list chargeable to white cap influence. Undoubtedly the motive for the killing of Dudley Champion was the fear that he would, if permitted to live, seek revenge for the murder of his brother Nathan at the K. C. ranch. A living Champion was looked upon as a constant menace--therefore, no Champions must be permitted to live. Shonsey is still absent from the state, and no action has been initiated to bring him back to answer for his crime. Readers of these pages can but be impressed with the knowledge that the whole cry of the invaders and their promoters was the decimation of their herds by the rustlers. “Thief, thief!” was the constant yell, and the charge was always that, “If the thieves are not wiped out our herds will be.” So they went to battle to destroy the men who had thus driven the cattle from the ranges of the state. That this was a false cry, the following story abundantly proves: “The Western Union Beef Company, of which George W. Baxter was and still is general manager, had a herd located in Johnson County, with Mike Shonsey as range foreman. The grass was short and the company had determined to move the herd to Montana in hopes of securing a better range. In the early autumn of 1892, four or five months after the invasion, the herd was gathered for the drive to Montana, and behold there were found and rounded into the moving bunches about two thousand more cattle than the company’s books called for. The rustlers had not taken many of these cattle, surely. Yet no man was a more vigorous “thief” howler than this man Baxter.