About the year 1852 or '53, on a still, hot summer afternoon, a certain man who shall be nameless, having tracked his two donkeys and one horse a half mile and discovering that a man's track with spur marks followed them, came back to town and told "the boys," who loitered about a popular saloon, that in his opinion some Mexican had stolen the animals. Such news as this demanded, naturally, drinks all around. "Do you know, gentlemen," said one who assumed leadership, "that just naturally to shoot these greasers ain't the best way? Give 'em a fair jury trial, and rope 'em up with all the majesty of the law. That's the cure." Such words of moderation were well received, and they drank again to "Here's hoping we may ketch that greaser!" As they loafed back to the veranda, a Mexican walked over the hill-brow, jingling his spurs pleasantly in accord with a whistled waltz. The advocate for the law said, in an undertone, "That's the cuss!" A rush, a struggle, and the Mexican, bound hand and foot, lay on his back in the bar-room. The miners turned out to a man. Happily, such cries as "_String him up!_" "_Burn the dog-goned lubricator!_" and other equally pleasant phrases fell unheeded upon his Spanish ear. A jury was quickly gathered in the street, and despite refusals to serve, the crowd hurried them in behind the bar. A brief statement of the case was made by the advocate _pro tem._, and they showed the jury into a commodious poker-room, where were seats grouped about neat green tables. The noise outside in the bar-room by-and-by died away into complete silence, but from afar down the canyon came confused sounds as of disorderly cheering. They came nearer, and again the light-hearted noise of human laughter mingled with clinking glasses around the bar. A low knock at the jury door, the lock burst in, and a dozen smiling fellows asked the verdict. The foreman promptly answered, "_Not guilty._" With volleys of oaths, and ominous laying of hands on pistol hilts, the "boys" slammed the door with--"_You'll have to do better than that!_" In half an hour the advocate gently opened the door again. "Your _opinion_, gentlemen?" "Guilty!" "Correct! you can come out. _We hung him an hour ago!_" The jury took their drinks, and when, after a few minutes, the pleasant village returned to its former tranquility, it was "_allowed_" at more than one saloon that "Mexicans'll know enough to let white men's stock alone after this." One and another exchanged the belief that this sort of thing was more sensible than "nipping 'em on sight." When, before sunset, the bar-keeper concluded to sweep some dust out of his poker-room back-door, he felt a momentary surprise at finding the missing horse dozing under the shadow of an oak, and the two lost donkeys serenely masticating playing-cards, of which many bushels lay in a dirty pile. He was then reminded that the animals had been there all day!