It was necessary that some system be pursued; accordingly General Pope, of Mankato, was appointed generalissimo of the forces, and that gentleman at once set about a plan of organization. Bridges must be guarded, cross-roads and by-paths watched, patrols sent out, and skirmish lines established. One would think by the measured tramp of armed men, the bustle, the eager excitement, the groups of mysterious gossips, that Mankato expected a seige from the combined forces of all the hostile savages paying allegiance to Sitting Bull, rather than that the men were called out to capture six fugitive robbers. But the people seemed determined. Their looks seemed to say that they were tired of playing this game of hide and seek, and were for once in downright earnest and bent upon bringing this thing to a quick and decisive close. It was a miserably wet morning, the rain descending in a continuous shower, and the air was filled with a damp chilliness, which rendered out-door vocations particularly disagreeable. The streets and roads were filled with slimy mud—griming and sticking, to the intense misery of pedestrians. But the rain and the mud and the cold could not deter the excited populace, and even women caught the infectious fever of excitement and dared the elements in search of news. All the city was on the tip-toe of expectancy, but the hours glided slowly along and no news was brought in from the skirmish lines or outposts. Reports, it is true, were rife, and many a thrilling tale of manly courage and sanguinary encounter was whispered by mani-tongued rumor. At one time the robbers were all slaughtered, at another, a brave citizen was sacrificed, but enquiry proved them to owe their existence to fertile imaginations. Evening at last closed in upon a miserable day, and the tired, wet and hungry hunters began to return. The Clifton house was filled with them, the congenial host doing his best to appease their ravenous appetites, after which the weary men stretched themselves at length upon the floors of the parlors, offices and halls to snatch a few minutes’ refreshing slumber. Meantime a strong guard was placed at every point around the city, and mounted men patrolled the streets all night. At about midnight some of the men on guard heard peculiar whistles at different points, which seemed to be replied to, the call resembling the low note of the quail, and the answer, the high note of the same bird. Report was made of the circumstance at “Headquarters,” and while a discussion was progressing as to whether the men were not mistaken, and their ability to distinguish between the veritable bird call and its its imitation, a mounted messenger came dashing in with the news that three of the robbers had CROSSED THE BRIDGE,