Seeing that Beidler was not to be deceived, Hynson, after some prevarication, acknowledged that he took the rifle from the coach. “I thought,” said he, “I might as well have it as any one.” This admission of guilt would have been followed by Hynson’s immediate arrest had not Beidler hoped by delay to find some evidence against him of murder. The negro Hanson had, in the meantime, seen Hynson. He told Beidler he resembled the man he saw at the house of the Chinawoman. Beidler hesitated no longer, but at once arrested Hynson for stealing the rifle, intending to keep him in custody until satisfied of his guilt or innocence of the higher crime. Impatient of this restraint, Hynson daily vented his wrath upon his keepers. “As soon as I get out,” said he to John Fetherstun, “I intend to kill you. Only give me the chance, and see how quick I’ll do it.” John laughed, dismissing all his threats with some axioms less complimentary to his courage than his bravado, such as, “You crow well,” “Barking dogs seldom bite,” etc. Beidler soon became satisfied that no evidence could be found sufficient to convict Hynson of murder, and the stealing of the rifle in a community where higher crimes were committed daily with impunity did not call for heavier punishment than the thief had already received. So Hynson was released. As Fetherstun opened the door of the prison for him, he said, “Have you got a six-shooter?” “No,” replied Hynson. “Then I’ll give you one, and you can turn loose,” at the same time drawing a revolver from his belt and offering it to him. Seeing that Hynson hesitated, he immediately added, “Take it. It will give you the chance you’ve been looking for so long.” Hynson declined taking it, saying, “I was in jail and feeling bad when I said that. You’ve always been kind to me. I’ve got nothing against you, and don’t want to hurt you, but I’m going for X., sure,—the man that put me in here.” X. needed no protector, especially when warned. No man could draw and fire a pistol with deadlier aim or greater rapidity, and so Hynson found no opportunity of putting his threat into execution. In the Spring of 1868, Beidler, on his return to Helena from the Whoop-up mines, spent a few days _en route_ at Benton. The steamboats from St. Louis were daily arriving with freights, which from this point were conveyed by teams to all the towns and mining camps in the Territory. Hynson, hired as a teamster to Scott Bullard, a heavy Helena freighter, was on his way to Benton. Learning that Beidler was there, he frequently in conversation avowed the intention of shooting him on sight. As the train approached Benton, Bullard rode into town in advance of it, and apprised Beidler of his danger. The day after the arrival of the train, Hynson and Beidler approached each other in the street. The former extended his hand in a friendly manner, which Beidler seized with his left hand, keeping his right in reserve for the use of his pistol.