whole of this wood was filled with men, a party of about two hundred men forming a skirmish line about three paces apart and marching completely through it down to Jones’ ford. It was now about mid-day, and it was thought the outlaws had doubled on their track and were concealed somewhere in the thick coverts of BEAUTIFUL MINNEOPA. Accordingly toward this lovely spot were the forces concentrated, and all the afternoon the wide space fronting the Rev. D. T. Rowland’s residence was filled with armed men. Although this delightful spot is well known to pleasure-seekers, it is doubtful if ever before it was the scene of so much bustle and animation, and the two beautiful daughters of the reverend gentleman were kept busily employed attending to the wants of their countless guests. The whole neighborhood was thoroughly searched, the deep and shadowing glen, the rocky chasms, the towering heights were all searched through and through, not a thicket nor a cave, nor a gloomy recess in the tortuous course of the serpentine Minneinneopa escaped the ruthless tread of the pursuers. No one could form an adequate idea of the number of men engaged in the hunt if they remained themselves with one party or in one place. As the writer was taken from one point to another, along highways and by ways by a spirited span of colts, supplied by Mr. B. D. Pay, he was astonished at the number of skirmishers he met. There were men of ALL AGES AND ALL NATIONALITIES, mounted and on foot, shadowed by every tree and covered by every bush. Could it be possible for an escape through such a formidable line! Driving up from Rush Lake towards evening weary and hungry from the day’s exertion, the writer was hailed by three men hastening across from heavy timber to the right of the Garden City road. Halting, he was told excitedly that the three men crossing from Garden City came upon a dense thicket overhanging the Blue Earth river where they heard voices. They stopped and listened when they distinctly heard a voice. “There is a good shelter here, why should we move.” It was raining at the time. The men from Garden City waited and watched, but they saw nothing. After some time they fired off their shot guns, but no response was made. For four hours the men kept guard over the place, and as night was coming on they thought they would go out in search of help. The writer at once alighted from his buggy and being joined by some dozen armed men, they approached the spot indicated. The cover was almost impenetrably dense, and it was impossible to see a dozen yards in any direction, and the hunt ended in failure, some of the party believing that the three men from Garden city had given way to a strong imagination. But at AN INTERVIEW WITH THE YOUNGERS,