Early in the morning, the men rose from their slumbers; renewed their fire, and while some cooked, others hunted up the stock. Soon all was prepared, and dispatched with a mountaineers’ appetite; the horses were saddled and they departed on their mission. The weather had changed very much for the worse. At about ten o’clock a fierce snow storm, driven by a furious wind, blew right in their faces; but as the tempest was a most useful auxiliary towards the success of their enterprise, they pushed on, hour after hour, and, at 2 P. M., reached the Milk Ranch, about twenty miles from the place where they expected to find their game. Here they stayed for supper, and engaged a guide who knew the country well, and was acquainted with the locality of the robbers’ city of refuge. Being warmed and refreshed, they started at a rapid pace, which was continued until, at midnight, they drew bridle near a lone cabin, into which they felt certain that the severity of the storm had driven the object of their journey. Having halted and unsaddled, they rapped loudly at the door. When it was opened, the gentleman who presented himself, took a view of the party, which, with the guide and a gentleman who had joined them, numbered six individuals. “Good evening,” was the salutation of the travellers. Sleep, suspicion, and an uneven temper, probably, jointly provoked the response, “Don’t know whether it is or not.” However, at their request, he soon had a fire blazing on the hearth, which the party thoroughly enjoyed, after their long ride. Before allowing themselves to be thus, even temporarily, luxurious, they had carefully inspected the premises and, as the lawyers say, all the appendages and appurtenances thereunto belonging; when, having found that the only practicable method of egress was by the door, a couple of them lay down in such a manner, when they retired to rest, that any one trying to escape must inevitably wake them. Six shot-guns constituted half a dozen weighty arguments against forcible attempts at departure, and the several minor and corroborative persuasions of a revolving class completed a clear case of “stand off,” under all circumstances. A sentry was placed to see that nobody adopted the plan of “evaporation” patented by Santa Claus, that is to say, by ascent of the chimney. His duty, also was, to keep up a bright fire, and the room being tenanted to its utmost capacity, all promised an uninterrupted night’s slumber.