About this time Beidler, as deputy United States marshal, made a seizure of some contraband goods. One Charles Williams was an important witness in the case. The court was held at Helena, one hundred and forty miles distant from Benton. Beidler discovered that the defendant and his friends had a plan on foot to prevent Williams from going to court, which he determined to forestall. He met Williams by appointment a couple of miles from town, furnished him a horse, a Henry rifle, and ten dollars in money, and directed him to ride with all possible despatch to Helena, he intending to follow in the coach, which was to leave in a few hours. Beidler saw nothing of his witness on the route, but, as he had told him to avoid the road the first day as much as possible, this occasioned no surprise; but when the second and third days passed without his appearance, he feared some accident had befallen him. The day after his arrival at Helena he received information that the horse had been found hitched to a post in Benton, with the saddle and gun on his back, and that Williams had been hanged. Beidler returned to Benton and secured his property. In a confidential conversation with Hynson he learned that before the execution of Williams was completed he was cut down, taken by his captors below Benton, placed upon a raft in the Missouri, and upon his promise to leave and not return to the country, permitted to escape with his life. This story, discredited at the time, was confirmed by Williams himself four years afterwards. Hynson’s participation in this high-handed outrage, while acting as a conservator of the peace, roused public indignation against him. A few days afterwards he provoked a dispute with Mr. Morgan, the sheriff, and slapped him in the face. One trouble followed another, until, in the Summer of 1868, a Mr. Robinson was knocked down and robbed in the street, and the circumstances all pointed unmistakably to Hynson, the night-watchman, as the aggressor. As there was no positive proof of his guilt, he was suffered to retain his position without molestation. On the morning of August 18, the same season, Hynson was observed to convey to a spot on a prairie, a mile or more distant from town, three pine-tree poles about twelve feet long and four inches in diameter. Tying one end of these three poles securely together, he raised them up in the form of a tripod. When they were stationed in a substantial manner, and to his liking, he went to a store and purchased a small coil of rope. “What is the rope for?”, inquired a bystander. “To hang a man with,” was his reply. The listeners understood this as a joke, and dismissed the subject with a laugh. Hynson next employed a negro to go out and dig a grave near the tripod. “Who’s dead, Massa Hynson?” inquired the man. “Never you mind,” replied Hynson. “Go ahead and dig the grave. I’ll furnish the corpse.” The negro obeyed, and the grave was in readiness at nightfall.