“He was neither overtired nor sleepy, but, after smoking a few minutes, he had what he termed a vision. He was riding over the country on horseback; when at the junction of two roads he was joined by a stranger. He saw this man as plainly as one man can see another in broad daylight, noting the color of his hair and eyes and taking particular notice of the fact that the horse, which was gray in color, had a “y” branded on his left shoulder. “The two rode along together for a mile or more, and then came to a spot where a tree had been blown down and fallen across the narrow highway. They turned into the woods to pass the spot, he in advance, when he saw the stranger pull a pistol and fire at his back. He felt the bullet tear into him, reeled and fell from his horse, and was conscious when the assassin robbed him and drew his body further into the woods. He seemed to see all this, and yet at the same time knew that he was dead. His corpse was rolled into a hollow and covered with brush, and then the murderer went away and left him alone. “In making an effort to throw off the brush, he awoke. His cigar had gone out, and, as near as he could calculate, he had been unconscious, as you might call it, for about fifteen minutes. He was deeply agitated, and it was some time before he could convince himself that he had not suffered any injury. By-and-by he went to bed and slept soundly, and next morning the remembrance of what had happened in his vision had almost faded from his mind. “He set out on his journey in good spirits, and found the road so romantic, and met horsemen going to town so often, that he reached the junction of the roads without having given a serious thought to his vision. “Then every circumstance was recalled in the most vivid manner. “He was joined there by a stranger on a gray horse, and man and beast tallied exactly with those in the vision. The man did not, however, have the look or bearing of an evil-minded person. On the contrary, he seemed to be in a jolly mood, and he saluted Bronson as frankly as an honest stranger would have done. He had no weapons in sight, and he soon explained that he was going to the village to which Bronson was bound, on business connected with the law. “The agent could not help but feel astonished and startled at the curious coincidence, but the stranger was so talkative and friendly that there was no possible excuse to suspect him. Indeed, as if to prove to his companion that he meditated no evil, he kept a little in advance for the next half hour. Bronson’s distrust had entirely vanished, when a turn in the road brought an obstruction to view. There was a fallen tree across the highway! This proof that every point and circumstance in the vision was being unrolled before his eyes, gave the agent a great shock. He was behind the stranger, and he pulled out his revolver and dropped his hand beside the horse to conceal it.