The argument followed, and the judge, soon comprehending the meaning of a nonsuit, decided that unless the defendant could show that he had suffered by reason of the informal service, the case must proceed. Some of the friends of the magistrate, seated near the door, understanding the cause of his embarrassment, enjoyed the scene hugely, and as it presented an opportunity for returning in kind some of the numerous jokes which he had played at their expense, one of them, thinking it too good to be lost, with much mock sobriety of manner and tone, arose and said, “Most righteous decision!” All eyes were turned upon the speaker, but before they could comprehend the joke at the bottom, another arose, and with equal solemnity, exclaimed, “Most just judge!” Dr. Steele, though embarrassed by his ill-timed jocularity, was so well satisfied with his sagacity in finding out what a nonsuit meant, without betraying his legal unlearnedness, that the joke was taken in good part, and formed a subject of frequent merriment in after times. Charley Forbes was the clerk of the court, and sat beside the judge taking notes of the trial. After the decision denying the motion, the plaintiff passed around a bottle of liquor, of which the court and jury partook. Not to be outdone, the defendant circulated a box of cigars. And it was while the spectators were giving expression in various forms to their approval of the decision, that Stinson and Lyons came into the court, and proceeding to the seat occupied by Forbes, engaged with him in a whispered conversation inaudible to the bystanders. After a few moments, Forbes suddenly rose in his place, and, with an oath, exclaimed, “Well, we’ll kill the scoundrel then, at once,” and accompanied Stinson and Lyons out of the wakiup. The audience, startled by the announcement, hurriedly followed. Dillingham had come over from Bannack in his capacity as deputy sheriff, to look for some stolen horses. He had come on the ground a moment before, in search of Mr. Todd, the deputy at Virginia City, for assistance. An assemblage of a hundred or more miners and others was congregated in and about the place where the court was in progress,--some intent upon the trial, others sauntering through the crowd and along the bank of Alder Creek. The three ruffians, after a moment’s conversation, approached in company the spot where Dillingham stood. “We want to see you,” said Lyons, addressing him. “Step this way a moment.” Stinson advanced a few paces, and looking over his shoulder said to his companions, “Bring him along. Make him come.” Dillingham waited for no second invitation. Evidently supposing that they had some matter of business to communicate, he accompanied them to an open spot not more than ten paces distant. There they all stopped, and facing Dillingham, with a muttered curse Lyons said to him,