which led across the railroad bridge along the Sioux City line into a melon patch, back to the road and on across the Garden City road. The engineer of an incoming train motioned the pursuers toward the thick woods covering the slopes of Pigeon Hill, some two hundred yards from the State road. But on went the chattering, noisy trail-hunters, chasing each other up the line. Quickly they came to a halt and found they had overrun the trail. Doubling upon their tracks they came back several yards and found the foot-prints turned off into the woods. Their attention was now attracted by a strong smell of burning feathers, and looking up toward the beautifully wooded acclivity, they saw a thin, pale column of smoke issuing from the luxurious foliage and spreading itself out like a hazy film. At this point there seems to be conflicting statements as to what was done, some asserting that Hoy at once made a dash toward the campfire; others say that he spent several minutes consulting and ordering his own men back to Garden City road to surround the camp. One man, Mr. Hansen, of Mankato, says that he actually saw one of the robbers and wanted to fire, but Hoy would not let him, stating that he might hit some of the pursuers instead of the pursued. Both Cole and Bob Younger afterward stated that Hoy did not charge into the camp at all. Be this as it may, the camp when entered was found to be deserted. When the writer entered the ROBBER’S CAMP, a bright, clear fire was burning, in front of which, toward the railroad, a long pole was wedged in between some saplings, over which had been hung the coats and blankets of the band. The front part of a shirt was found, stained with blood. One wristband was wanting, but that found at the camp discovered on the previous Sunday, exactly corresponded with it. The shirt was of good quality and had evidently never been laundried. Bob Younger afterwards told the writer that the garment belonged to him. A blood-stained handkerchief (new) with border torn from two sides was found, with a large blue weather-proof coat, a brown linen duster, nearly new, a piece of drugget about two yards square and two bridles. One of the bridles had a very severe Mexican bit, and was afterwards recognized by a Mankato man as being one that he had exchanged at St. Peter for a milder one. Near the fire were two fowls and a chicken skillfully dressed and jointed ready for broiling, and several cobs of corn, some of it partially roasted, and some of it showing marks of teeth, as though some of the men were too hungry to wait till breakfast was ready. At the back of the camp fire the hill ascended precipitously, and in the dead leaves were distinctly seen the trail of the disturbed bandits. Reaching the summit of Pigeon Hill, they crossed the Garden City road and entered the heavy timber and dense underbrush leading down to the Blue Earth river. The