The leading men of the new State find this scourge unbearable. Lands are untenanted, cattle and herds are a prey to the robbers. Private and public reward has failed to check this evil. Sheriff's posses and occasional lynching parties shoot and hang. Still the evil grows. It is an insult to American courage. As 1852 is ushered in, there are nearly two hundred and fifty thousand dwellers in the new State. Still the reign of terror continues. One curious fact appears. All of the bandits chased south toward Monterey or Los Angeles are finally driven to bay, killed, or scattered as fugitives. In the middle regions, the organization of the Mexican murderers seems to be aided by powerful friends. They evidently furnish news, supplies, and give concealment to these modern butchers. They are only equalled by the old cutthroats of the Spanish main. A meeting of citizens is called at Stockton. It is privately held, for fear of betrayal. Maxime Valois is, as usual, in the van. His knowledge of the country and his renown as a member of Fremont's party fit him to lead. A secret organization is perfected. The sheriff of the county is made head of it. He can use the power of posse and his regular force. The plundered merchants agree to furnish money as needed. Maxime Valois is needed as the directing brain. In study over news and maps, the result proves that the coast and south are only used for the sale of stock or for refuge. The extreme north of the State shows no prey, save the starving Klamath Indians. It is true the robbers never have cursed the upper mountains. Their control sweeps from Shasta to Sonoma, from Marysville and Nevada as far as the gates of Sacramento, and down to the Livermore Pass. Mariposa groans under their attacks. Valois concludes this bloody warfare is a logical result of the unnecessary conquest of California. To lose their nationality is galling. To see Mexico, which abandoned California, get $15,000,000 in compensation for the birthright of the Dons is maddening. It irritates the suspicious native blood. To be ground down daily, causes continual bickering. Ranch after ranch falls away under usury or unjust decisions. In this ably planned brigandage, Valois discerns some young resentful Californian of good family has assisted. The terrific brutality points also to a relentless daring nature, aroused by some special wrong. Valois muses at night in his lonely office. His ready revolvers are at hand. Even here in Stockton a Mexican, friendly to the authorities, has been filled with bullets by a horseman. The assailant was swathed to his head in his scrape. He dashed away like the wind. There is danger everywhere. The young lawyer pictures this, the daring bravo--hero by nature--made a butcher and a fiend by goading sorrows. It must be some one who knows the Americans, who has travelled the interior, and has personal wrongs to avenge.