As soon as it became known that he was at the spot indicated, four resolute men at once volunteered to go in pursuit of, capture, and execute him. Their route lay across two heavy divides, and required about sixty miles of hurried travelling. The first day they crossed the divide between the Pas-sam-a-ri and the Madison, camping that night on the bank of the latter river, which they had forded with great difficulty. The weather was intensely cold, and their blankets afforded but feeble protection against it. They built a large camp-fire, and lay down as near to it as safety would permit. One of their number spread his blankets on the slope of a little hillock next the fire, and during the night slipped down until his feet encountered the hot embers. The weather increased in severity the next day, during most of which the Vigilantes rode through a fierce mountain snowstorm, with the wind directly in their faces. At two o’clock P.M. they halted for supper at the Milk ranche, about twenty miles from the place where they expected to find the fugitive. Under the guidance of a man whom they employed here, they then pushed on at a rapid pace, the storm gathering in fury as they progressed. At midnight they drew up near a lone cabin in the neighborhood of the rocky jungle where their game had taken cover. “This storm has certainly routed him,” said one of the Vigilantes. “Ten to one, we bag him in the cabin.” “Very likely,” replied another. “He would not suspect danger in such weather. It will save us a heap of trouble.” One of the men rapped loudly at the cabin door. Opening it slowly, a look of amazement stole over the features of the inmate, as he surveyed the company of six mounted armed men. “Good-evening,” said one, saluting him. “Don’t know whether it is or not,” growled the man, evidently suspicious that a visit at so late an hour meant mischief. “Build us a fire, man,” said the Vigilante. “We are nearly frozen, and this is the only place of shelter from this storm for many miles. Surely you won’t play the churl to a party of weather-bound prospectors.” Reassured by this hearty reproof for his seeming unkindness, the man set to work with a will, and in a few moments a genial fire was blazing on the hearth, which the party enjoyed thoroughly. Glancing curiously around the little room, the Vigilantes discovered that it contained three occupants besides themselves. Placing their guns and pistols in convenient position, and stationing a sentinel to keep watch and feed the fire, the men spread their blankets on the clay surface of the enclosure, and in a few moments were locked in sleep; careful, however, first, to satisfy the eager curiosity of their entertainers, by a brief conversation about mining, stampeding, prospecting, etc., and leading them to believe that they were a party of miners, returning from an unsuccessful expedition.