“Valgame! What is the matter with the man? and why does he make such a fuss over Pablo Martinez’s dead burro, which has been there for more than two months and nobody bothering about it? Why, it was only last week that Ramon Romualdo and I were talking about it, and we both agreed that it ought to be removed some time very soon. Bah! I will light another cigarette. These Americans make me sick--always in a hurry, as if the devil were after them.” In the face of such antagonism as this the feeble light of the _Arizonian_ flickered out, and that great luminary was, after the lapse of a few years, succeeded by the _Star_, whose editor and owner arrived in the Territory in the latter part of the year 1873, after the Apaches had been subdued and placed upon reservations. TOLD AT TRINIDAD A. A. HAYES, JR. 1879 From “New Colorado and the Santa Fé Trail.” By A. A. Hayes, Jr. Reprinted by permission of the publishers, Harper and Brothers, New York.[27] We had driven over from El Moro only to find that the daily train for the South had started, and that we had a long night and day on our hands. We soon exhausted the sights of the town, and sat down on the hotel piazza in company with rather a motley group. We talked in a languid way about various subjects, and drifted after awhile to the old staging days; then a quiet New Yorker took his cigar out of his mouth, and said, “Gentlemen, I should like to tell you a story. Those of you who saw the _New York Herald_ of July --, 1876, may have noticed a rather unintelligible account of a crime committed by the scion of a wealthy and distinguished family long resident in the city. It was supposed to be a heavy forgery, but one soon saw that extraordinary measures and powerful influence had suppressed details and prevented further publicity, and the matter passed off as a nine days’ wonder. When I myself first saw the item, I felt sure that I knew who the culprit was. James W---- and I were school-mates at Geneva, and once great friends. He was the son of one of the finest gentlemen of the old school that I have ever seen--who had married rather late in life, and been a most affectionate and indulgent father. James was a boy of most attractive appearance, with very dark complexion, hair and eyes, and the figure of an athlete. There was apparently nothing in feature, expression, or manner, to cause suspicion that he was not a very fine fellow; and yet there came to me before long the positive conviction, first, that under that attractive exterior a desperate power of evil was at work; second (and I am no more able to explain this than those other spiritual mysteries which so many of us encounter in our lives), that it would be my fate to come into contact with him in after years when this power had developed itself.