Vigilantes of Montana - Chapters XIII-XIV



CHAPTER XIII
The Robbery of the Salt Lake Mail Coach by George Ives, Rill Graves alias 
Whiskey Bill, and Bob Zachary.

"Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes,
That when I note another man like him
I may avoid him." -SHAKESPEARE.

At the latter end of the month of November, 1863, Oliver's Salt Lake 
coach, driven by Thos. C. Caldwell, left Virginia for Salt hake City, 
carrying as passengers Leroy Southmayde and Captain Moore. There was also 
a discharged driver named Billy. At about three p. m. they reached 
Loraine's Ranch, where George Ives rode up and stopped. He wanted to get a 
change of horses, but could not obtain them. He then ordered grain for his 
horse, standing beside Southmayde all the time. Suddenly he said, "I have 
heard of Tex; he is at Cold Spring Ranch," and then ordered his horse. 
Steve Marshland was in his Company. Between Loraine's and Cold Spring 
Ranch they passed the coach, and sure enough there the three were, in 
conversation at the Ranch, as the stage drove up.

Tex, alias Jem Crow, afterward stated that they told him they were going 
to rob the stage that night. Old Tex was watching the coach when it 
started from Virginia, and Captain Moore observing him and knowing his 
character, told Southmayde that he did not like to see him there. 
Circumstances and conclusive testimony have since proved that he was the 
spy, and being furnished with a fleet horse, he rode across the country at 
full speed, heading the coach, as before described.

They drove on to the Point of Rocks, and there they lay over till morning. 
At Stone's Ranch the road agents made a circuit and passed the coach 
unobserved. Ives had been joined, in the meanwhile, by Whiskey Bill and 
Bob Zachary. About eleven a. m. the travellers overtook the three road 
agents. Each one had his shot-gun lying over his left arm, and they 
appeared, from behind, like hunters. As the stage came up they wheeled 
their horses at once, and presented their pieces. Bill Graves drew a bead 
on Tom Caldwell; Ives covered Southmayde, while Bob Zachary, keeping his 
gun pointed at the coach, watched Captain Moore and Billy.

Southmayde had the opportunity of looking down the barrels of Ives' gun, 
and could almost see the buckshot getting ready for a jump. As a matter of 
taste, he thinks such a sight anything but agreeable or edifying, and if 
his luck should bring him in the vicinity of road agents in pursuit of 
their calling, he confidently informs us that he would prefer a side view 
of the operation, as he would then be able to speak dispassionately of the 
affair. To report without "fear, favor, or affection" is rather hard when 
the view is taken in front, at short range. Without "favor or affection" 
can be managed; but the observance of the first condition would 
necessitate an indifference to a shower of "cold pewter," possessed only 
by despairing lovers of the red-cover novelette class, and these men never 
visit the mountains; alkali, sage brush fires, and "beef straight" having 
a decidedly "material" tendency, and being very destructive of sentiment. 
Ives called out, "Halt! throw up your hands," and then bade Zachary "Get 
down and look after those fellows." 

Accordingly Bob dismounted, and leaving his horse, he walked, gun in band, 
up to Southmayde. While engaged in panning out Southmayde's dust he 
trembled from head to foot (and that not with cold).

The appearance of the road agents, at this moment, was striking, and not 
at all such as would be desired by elderly members of the "Peace party." 
Each man had on a green and blue blanket, covering the body entirely. 
Whiskey Bill wore a "plug" hat (the antitype of the muff on a soup-plate 
usually worn in the East). His sleeves were rolled up above the elbow; he 
had a black silk handkerchief over his face, with holes for sight and air, 
and he rode a grey horse, covered from the ears to the tail with a 
blanket, which, however, left the head and legs exposed to view. George 
Ives' horse was blanketed in the same way. It was a dappled grey, with a 
roached mane. He himself was masked with a piece of grey blanket, with the 
necessary perforations. Zachary rode a blue-grey horse, belonging to Bob 
Dempsey ("all the country" was their stable) -blanketed like the others -
and his mask was a piece of Jersey shirt.

Ives was on the off side of the driver, and Graves, on the near side. When 
Zachary walked up to Southmayde, he said "Shut your eyes." This Southmayde 
respectfully declined, and the matter was not pressed. Bob then took 
Leroy's pistol and money, and threw them down.

While Southmayde was being robbed, Billy, feeling tired, put down his 
hands, upon which Ives instantly roared out, "Throw them up, you ." It is 
recorded that Billy obeyed with alacrity, though not with cheerfulness.

Zachary walked up to Captain Moore and made a similar request. The Captain 
declared, with great solemnity, as he handed him his purse, that it was 
"all he had in the world;" but it afterward appeared that a sum of $25 was 
not included in that estimate of his terrestrial assets, for he produced 
this money when the road agents had disappeared.

Continuing his search, the relieving officer came to Billy, and demanded 
his pistol, which was immediately handed over. Ives asked, "Is it
loaded?" and being answered in the negative, told Rob to give it back to 
the owner. Tom Caldwell's turn came next. He had several small sums 
belonging to different parties, which he was carrying for them to their 
friends, and he had also been commissioned to make some purchases. As Bob 
approached him he exclaimed, "My God! What do you want with me? I have 
nothing." Graves told Zachary to let him alone, and inquired if there was 
anything in the mail that they wanted. Tom said he did not think that 
there was. Zachary stepped upon the brake bar and commenced an 
examination, but found nothing. As Caldwell looked at Zachary while he was 
thus occupied Ives ordered him not to do that. Tom turned and asked if he 
might look at him. Ives nodded.

Having finished his search, Zachary picked up his gun, and stepped back. 
Ives dismissed the "parade" with the laconic command, "Get up and 
'skedaddle'." 

The horses were somewhat restive, but Tom held them fast, and Southmayde, 
with a view to reconnoitering, said in a whisper, "Tom, drive slow." Ives 
called out, "Drive on." Leroy turned round on his seat, determined to find 
out who the robbers were, and looked carefully at them for nearly a 
minute, which Ives at last observing, he yelled out. "If you don't turn 
round, and mind your business, I'll shoot the top of your head off." The 
three robbers gathered together and remained watching till the coach was 
out of sight.

Leroy Southmayde lost $400 in gold, and Captain Moore delivered up $100 in 
Treasury notes, belonging to another man.

The coach proceeded on its way to Bannack without further molestation, and 
on its arrival there Plummer was in waiting, and asked, "Was the coach 
robbed today'" and being told that it had been, as Southmayde jumped down, 
he took him by the arm, and knowing him to be Sheriff, Southmayde was just 
about to tell him all about it, when Judge G. G. Bissel gave Leroy a 
slight nudge, and motioned for him to step back, which he did, and the 
Judge told him to be very careful what he told that man, meaning Plummer; 
Southmayde closed one eye as a private signal of comprehension, and 
rejoined Plummer, who said, "I think I can tell you who it was that robbed 
you." Leroy asked "Who'" Plummer replied, "George Ives was one of them." 
Southmayde said, "I know; and the others were Whiskey Bill and Bob 
Zachary; and I'll live to see them hanged before three weeks." Plummer at 
once walked off, and though Leroy was in town for three days, he never saw 
him afterward. The object of Plummer's accusation of Ives was to see 
whether Southmayde really knew anything. Some time after, Judge Bissel -
who had overheard Southmayde telling Plummer who the thieves were -
remarked to him, "Leroy, your life is not worth a cent." 

On the second day after, as Tom was returning, he saw Graves at the Cold 
Spring ranch,* and took him on one side, asking him if he had heard of t,
he "little robbery." Graves replied that he haa, and asked him if he knew 
who were the perpetrators. Tom said "No," adding, "And I wouldn't for the 
world; for if I did, and told of them, I shouldn't live long." "That's a 
tact, Tom," said Graves. "You wouldn't live fifteen minutes." I'll tell 
you of a circumstance as happened to me about bein' robbed in Californy.

* Afterwards to become the property of Elling & Hindman, on the road from 
Twin Bridges to Laurin.

"One night about ten o'clock, me and my partner was ridin' along, and two 
fellers rode up and told us to throw up our hands, and give up our money. 
We did it pretty quick I guess. They got $2,000 in coined gold from us. I 
told 'em, 'Boys,' sez I ','t's pretty rough to take all we've got.' So the 
feller said it was rather rough, and he gave us back $40. About a week 
after I seen the two fellers dealin' faro. I looked pretty hard at them 
and went out. One of the chaps hollered me, and sez he, 'Ain't you the man 
that was robbed the other night?' 'No,' sez I, for I was afraid to tell 
him the truth. Sez he, 'I want you to own up; I know you're the man. Now 
I'm a going to give you $4,000 for keeping your mouth shut,' and he did, . 
Now you see, Tom, that's what I got for keeping my mouth shut. I saved my 
life, and got $4,000." 

Ives made for Virginia City, and there told in a house of ill fame that he 
was the Bamboo chief that made Tom Caldwell throw up his hands, and that,, 
he would do it again. He and a Colorado driver who was a friend of 
Caldwell's went together to Nevada. Each of them had a shot-gun. Ives was 
intoxicated. The driver asked Ives whom did he suppose to be the robbers, 
to which he quickly replied, "I am the Bamboo chief that robbed it," etc., 
etc., as before mentioned. The man then said, "Don't you think Tom knows 
it?" "Of course I do," said George. As they came back to town, the driver 
saw Tom, and waved to him to keep back, which he did, and sent a man to 
inquire the reason of the signal. The messenger brought him back 
information of what had passed, and told him to keep out of Ives' way, for 
he was drunk and might kill him.

That same evening, Tom and his friend went to the Cold Spring Ranch 
together on the coach, and the entire particulars came out in 
conversation. The driver finished the story by stating that he sat on his 
horse, ready to shoot Ives, if he should succeed in getting the "drop" on 
Caldwell.

Three days after, when Southmayde was about to return from Bannack, Buck 
Stinson and Ned Ray came into the Express Office, and asked who were for 
Virginia. On being told that there were none but Southmayde, they said, 
"Well, then, we'll go." The agent came over and said to Leroy, "For God's 
sake, don't go; I believe you'll be killed." Southmayde replied, "I have 
got to go; and if you'll get me a double-barreled shot-gun, I will take my 
chances." Oliver's agent accordingly provided Leroy Southmayde, Tom 
Caldwell and a young lad about sixteen years of age, who was also going by 
the coach to Virginia, with a shot-gun each. Leroy rode with Tom. They 
kept a keen eye on a pair of road agents, one driving and the other 
watching.

The journey was as monotonous as a night picket, until the coach reached 
the crossing of the Stinkingwater, where two of the three men that robbed 
it (Bob Zachary and Bill Graves) were together, in front of the station, 
along with Aleck Carter. Buck Stinson saw them and shouted, "Ho! you road 
agents." Said Leroy to Tom Caldwell, "Tom, we're gone up." Said Tom, 
"That's so." 

At the Cold Spring Station, where the coach stopped for supper, the 
amiable trio came up. They were of course fully armed with gun, pistols 
and. knife. Two of them set down their guns at the door and came in. Alee 
Carter had his gun slung at his back.

Rob Zachary, feigning to be drunk, called out, "I'd like to see the man 
that don't like Stone." Finding that, as far as could be ascertained, 
everybody present had a very high opinion of Stone, he called for a treat 
to all hands, which having been disposed of, he bought a bottle of 
whiskey, and behaved "miscellaneously" till the coach started.

After going about a quarter of a mile, they wheeled their horses and 
called "Halt." The instant the word left their lips, Leroy dropped his gun 
on AleckCarter; Tom Caldwell and the other passenger each picked his man, 
and drew a bead on him at the same moment. Aleck Carter called out, "We 
only want you to take a drink; but you can shoot and be -----, if you want 
to." Producing the bottle, it was handed round; but Leroy and Tom only 
touched their lips to it. Tom believed it to be poisoned. After politely 
inquiring if any of the wanted any more, they wheeled their horses, 
saying, "We're off for Pete Daley's" and clapped spurs to their horses, 
and headed for the Ranch, going on a keen run.

Before leaving Cold Spring Ranch, Leroy Southmayde told Tom that he saw 
through it all, and would leave the coach; but Tom said he would take Buck 
up beside him, and that surely the other fellow could watch Ray. Buck did 
not like the arrangement; but Tom said, "You're an old driver, and I want 
you up with me, 

The two passengers sat with their shot-guns across their knees, ready for 
a move on the part of either of the robbers.

At Loraine's Ranch, Leroy and Caldwell went out a little way from the 
place, with the bridles in their hands, and talked about the "situation." 
They agreed that it was pretty rough, and were debating the propriety of 
taking to the brush, and leaving the coach, when their peace of mind was 
in no way assured by seeing that Buck Stinson was close to them, and must 
have overheard every word they had uttered. Buck endeavored to allay their 
fears by saying there was no danger. They told him that they were armed, 
and that if they were attacked they would make it a warm time for some of 
them; at any rate they would "get" three or four of them. Buck replied, 
"Gentlemen, I pledge you my word, my honor, and my life, that you will not 
be attacked between this and Virginia." 

The coach went on directly the horses were hitched up, and Buck commenced 
roaring out a song, without intermission, till at last he became tired, 
and then, at his request, Ray took up the chorus. This was the signal to 
the other three to keep off. Had the song ceased, an attack would have 
been at once made; but, without going into algebra, they were able to 
ascertain that such a venture had more peril than profit, and so they let 
it alone. The driver, Southmayde, and the young passenger were not sorry 
when they alighted safe in town. Ned Ray called on Southmayde and told him 
that if he knew who committed the robbery he should not tell, for that 
death would be his portion if he did.



CHAPTER XIV
The Opening of the Ball -George Ives.

They mustered in their simple dress
For wrongs to seek a stern redress.

As a matter of course, after the failure of justice in the case of the 
murderers of Dillingham, the state of society, bad as it was, rapidly 
deteriorated, until a man could hardly venture to entertain a belief that 
he was safe for a single day. We have been repeatedly shown places where 
bullets used to come through the chinks between the logs separating one of 
the stores in town from a saloon. Wounded men lay almost unnoticed about 
the city, and a night or day without shooting, knifing or fighting would 
have been recognized as a small and welcome instalment of the millennium. 
Men dared not go from Virginia to Nevada or Summit after dark. A few out 
of the hundreds of instances must suffice. A Dutchman, known as Dutch 
Fred, was met by one of the band, who ordered him to throw up his hands, 
as usual. Finding he had $5 in Treasury notes with him, the robber told 
him he would take them at par, and added with a volley of curses, "If ever 
you come this way with only $5 I'll shoot you; -you, I'll shoot you anyhow,
" and raising his pistol he shot him in the arm. Another man was robbed of 
two or three dollars, about two or three miles below Nevada, and was told 
that if ever he came with as little money again they would kill him.

George Ives was a young man of rather prepossessing appearance, probably 
twenty-seven years old. His complexion and hair were light, his eyes blue. 
He wore no whiskers. His height was nearly six feet, and he wore a 
soldier's overcoat and a light felt hat. The carriage of this renowned 
desperado was sprightly, and his coolness was imperturbable. Long practice 
in confronting danger had made him absolutely fearless. He would face 
death with an indifference that had become constitutional, and the spirit 
of reckless bravado with which he was animated made him the terror of the 
citizens. He would levy blackmail under the guise of a loan and as a 
matter of sport, and to show the training of his horse he would back the 
animal into the windows of a store, and then ride off laughing. In looking 
at Ives a man would, at first sight, be favorably impressed; but a closer 
examination by any one skilled in physiognomy would detect in the lines of 
the mouth, and in the strange, fierce, and sinister gleam of the eye, the 
quick spirit which made him not only the terror of the community, but the 
dread of the band of ruffians with whom he was associated.

As before mentioned, he was with Henry Plummer when he started, to rob 
Langford and Hauser; he assisted at the robbery of the coaches in October 
and November, and, after that, he figured as a highwayman with Aleck 
Carter, down on Snake River, under the alias of Lewis.

In company with a friend he visited his comrades, Hunter and Carter, at 
Brown's Gulch, and on their way back, among the hills which form, as it 
were, the picket line of the Ramshorn Mountains, the two met Anton M. 
Holter,* now a citizen of Virginia. They politely invited him to replenish 
their exchequers by a draft on his own, which, under the circumstances, he 
instantly did; but he was able at the moment to honor only a small check. 
They read him a lecture upon the impropriety of traveling with so small a 
sum in his possession, and then, as an emphatic confirmation of their 
expressed displeasure, George drew his revolver, and, aiming at his head, 
sent a ball through his hat, grazing his scalp. A second shot, with more 
deliberate aim, was only prevented by the badness of the cap. After this 
failure, this "perfect gentleman" went his way, and so did Holter, 
doubtless blessing the cap-maker.

* Mr. Holter died July 16th, 1921, at Helena, Montana.

Tex was a frequent companion of Ives, who was also intimate with Plummer, 
and George used frequently to show their letters, written in cipher, to 
unskilled, if not unsuspecting citizens. He spent a life of ceaseless and 
active wickedness up to the very day of his capture.

Perhaps the most daring and cold-blooded of all his crimes was the murder 
which he committed near the Cold Spring Ranch. A man had been whipped for 
larceny near Nevada, and to escape the sting of the lash he offered to 
give information about the road agents. Ives heard of it, and meeting him 
purposely between Virginia and Dempsey's, he deliberately fired at him 
with his double-barreled gun. The gun was so badly loaded, and the man's 
coat so thickly padded that the buckshot did not take effect, upon which 
he coolly drew his revolver, and, talking to him all the time, shot him 
dead. This deed was perpetrated in broad daylight on a highway -a very 
Bloomingdale Road of the community -and yet, there, in plain view of 
Daley's and the Cold Spring Ranch, with two or three other teams in sight, 
he assassinated his victim in a cool and business-like manner, and when 
the murdered man had fallen from his horse, he took the animal by the 
bridle and led it off among the hills.

Ives then went to George Hilderman and told him that he should like to 
stay at his wakiup for a few days, as he had killed a man near Cold Spring 
Ranch, and there might be some stir and excitement about it.

In about half an hour after, some travelers arrived at the scene of 
murder. The body was still warm, but lifeless, and some of the neighbors 
from the surrounding ranches dug a lonely grave in the beautiful valley, 
and there, nameless, unconfined and unwept, the poor victim,

"Life's fitful fever over,
Sleeps well."

The passer-by may even now notice the solitary grave where he lies, marked 
as it still is by the upheaved earth, on the left side of the road, as he 
goes down the valley, about a mile on the Virginia side of the Cold Spring 
Ranch.

All along the route the ranchmen knew the road agents, but the certainty 
of instant death in case they revealed what they knew enforced their 
silence, even when they were really desirous of giving information or 
warning.

Nicholas Tbalt had sold a span of mules to his employers, Butschy & Clark, 
who paid him the money. Taking the gold with him, He went to Dempsey's 
Ranch to bring up the animals. Not returning for some time they concluded 
that he had run away with the mules, and were greatly grieved that a 
person they had trusted so implicitly should deceive them. They were, 
however, mistaken. Faithful to his trust, he had gone for the mules, and 
met his death from the hand of George Ives, who shot him, robbed him off 
his money, and stole his mules. Ives first accused Long John of the deed; 
but he was innocent of it, as was also Hilderman, who was a petty thief 
and hider, but neither murderer nor road agent. His gastronomic feats at 
Bannack had procured him the name, the American Pie-Eater.* Ives 
contradicted himself at his execution, stating that Aleck Carter was the 
murderer; but in this he wronged his own soul. His was the bloody hand 
that committed the crime. Long John said, on his examination at the trial, 
that he did not see the shots fired, but that he saw Nicholas coming with 
the mules, and George Ives going to meet him; that Ives rode up shortly 
after with the mules, and said that the Dutchman would never trouble 
anybody again.

* Langford tells the story of this Pie-Rater. See that.

The body of the slaughtered young man lay frozen, stiff and stark, among 
the sage brush, whither it had been dragged, unseen of man; but the eye of 
Omniscience rested on the blood-stained corpse, and the fiat of the 
Eternal Judge ordered the wild bird of the mountains to point out the 
spot, and, by a miracle, to reveal the crime. It was the finger of God 
that indicated the scene of the assassination, and it was His will 
stirring in the hearts of the honest and indignant gazers on the ghastly 
remains of Tbalt that organized the party which, though not then formally 
enrolled as a Viligance Committee, was the nucleus and embryo of the 
order -the germ from which sprang that goodly tree, under the shadow of 
whose wide-spreading branches the citizens of Montana can lie down and 
sleep in peace.

Nicholas Tbalt was brought into Nevada on a wagon, after being missing for 
ten days. William Herren came to Virginia and informed Tom Baume, who at 
once went down to where the body lay. The head had been pierced by a ball, 
which entered just over the left eye. On searching the clothes of the 
victim, he found in his pocket a knife which he had lent him in Washington 
Gulch, Colorado, two years before, in the presence of J. X. Beidler and 
William Clark.

The marks of a small lariat were on the dead man's wrists and neck. He had 
been dragged through the brush, while living, after being shot, and when 
found lay on his face, his right arm bent across his chest and his left 
grasping the willows above him.

William Palmer was coming across the Stinkingwater Valley, near the scene 
of the murder, ahead of his wagon, with his shotgun on his shoulder. A 
grouse rose in front of him, and he fired. The bird dropped dead on the 
body of Tbalt. On finding the grouse on the body, he went down to the 
wakiup, about a quarter of a mile below the scene of the murder, and 
seeing Long John and George Hilderman there, he told them that there was 
the body of a dead man above, and asked them if they would help him to put 
the corpse into his wagon, and that he would take it to town, and see if 
it could be identified. They said "No; that is nothing. They kill people 
in Virginia every day, and there's nothing said about it, and we want to 
have nothing to do with it."

The man lay for half a day exposed in the wagon, after being brought up to 
Nevada. Elk Morse, William Clark and Tom Baume got a coffin made for him; 
took him up to the burying ground above Nevada; interred him decently, 
and, at the foot of the grave, a crotched stick was placed, which is, we 
believe, still standing.

The indignation of the people was excited by the spectacle. The same 
afternoon three or four of the citizens raised twenty-five men,* and left 
Nevada at 10 p. m. The party subscribed an obligation before starting, 
binding them to mutual support, etc., and then travelled on, with silence 
and speed, towards the valley of the Stinkingwater. Calling at a ranch on 
their way, they obtained an accession to their numbers, in the person of 
the man who eventually brought Ives to bay, after he had escaped from the 
guard who had him in charge. Several men were averse to taking him with 
them, not believing him to be a fit man for such an errand; but they were 
greatly mistaken, for he was both honest and reliable, as they afterward 
found.

* See Oath and names in back of book.

Avoiding the traveled road, the troop rode round by the bluff, so as to 
keep clear of Dempsey's Ranch. About six miles further on they called at a 
cabin, and got a guide to pilot them to the rendezvous.

At about half-past three in the morning they crossed Wisconsin Creek, at a 
point some seven miles below Dempsey's, and found that it was frozen, but 
that the ice was not strong enough to carry the weight of man and horse, 
and they went through one after another, at different points, some of the 
riders having to get down, in order to help their horses, emerging half 
drowned on the other side, and continuing their journey, cased in a suit 
of frozen clothes, which, as one of them observed, "stuck to them like 
death to a dead nigger." Even the irrepressible Tom Baume was obliged to 
take a sharp nip on his "quid," and to summon all his fortitude to his aid 
to face the cold of his ice-bound "rig."

The leader called a halt about a mile further on, saying, "Every one light 
from his horse, hold him by the bridle, and make no noise till daybreak." 
Thus they stood motionless for an hour and a half. At the first peep of 
day the word was given, "Boys mount your horses, and not a word pass, 
until we are in sight of the wakiup." They had not travelled far when a 
dog barked. Instantly they put spurs to their horses, and breaking to the 
right and left, formed the "surround," every man reining up with his shot-
gun bearing on the wakiup. The leader jumped from his horse, and seeing 
eight or ten men sleeping on the ground* in front of the structure, all 
wrapped up in blankets, sang out, "The first man that raises will get a 
quart of buckshot in him, before he can say Jack Robinson." It was too 
dark to see who they were, so he went on to the wakiup, leaving his horse 
in charge of one of the party, half of whom had dismounted and the others 
held the horses. "Is Long John here?" he asked. "Yes," said that 
longitudinal individual. "Come out here; I want you." "Well," said he, "I 
guess I know what you want me for." "Probably you do; but hurry up; we 
have got no time to lose." "Well," said John, "wait till I get my 
moccasins on, won't you?" "Be quick about it, then," observed his captor. 
Immediately after he came out of the wakiup, and they waited about half an 
hour before it was light enough to see distinctly. The captain took four 
of his men and Long John, and walked to the place where the murder had 
been committed, leaving the remainder of the troop in charge of the other 
men. They went up to the spot, and there Long John was charged with the 
murder. Palmer showed the position in which the body was found. He said, 
"I did not do it, boys." He was told that his blood would be held 
answerable for that of Nicholas Tbalt; for that, if he had not killed him, 
he knew well who had done it, and had refused to help to put his body into 
a wagon. "Long John," said one of the men, handling his pistol as he 
spoke, "you had better prepare for another world. The leader stepped 
between and said, "This won't do; if there is anything to be done, let us 
all be together." Long John was taken aside by three of the men, and set 
down. They looked up, and there, in the faint light -about a quarter of a 
mile off -stood Black Bess, the mule bought by X. Beidler in Washington 
Gulch. Pointing to the animal, they said, "John, whose mule is that?" 
"That's the mule that Nick rode down here," he answered. "You know whose 
mule that is, John. Things look dark. You had better be thinking of 
something else now." The mule was sent for, and brought before him, and he 
was asked where the other two mules were. He said he did not know. He was 
told that he had better look out for another world, for that he was played 
out in this. He said, "I did not commit that crime. If you give me a 
chance, I'll clear myself." "John," said the leader, "you never can do it; 
for you knew of a man lying dead for nine days, close to your house, and 
never reported his murder; and you deserve hanging for that.

Why didn't you come to Virginia and tell the people?" He replied that he 
was afraid and dared not do it. "Afraid of what?" asked the captain. 
"Afraid. of the men round here." "Who are they?" "I dare not tell who they 
are. There's one of them round here." "Where?" "There's one of them here 
at the wakiup, that killed Nick." "Who is he?" "George Ives." "Is he down 
at the wakiup?" "Yes." "You men stand here and keep watch over John, and 
I'll go down." Saying this he walked to the camp.

* Though it was in December, these men were used to roughing it.

On arriving at the wakiup, he paused, and picking out the man answering to 
the description of George Ives, he asked him, "Is your name George Ives?" 
"Yes," said that worthy. "I want you," was the laconic query. "To go to 
Virginia City," was the direct but unpleasing rejoinder. "All right," said 
George, "I expect I have to go." He was at once given in charge of the 
guard.

So innocent were some of the troop, that they had adopted the "Perfect 
gentleman" hypothesis, and laid down their arms in anger at the arrest of 
this murderous villain. A little experience prevented any similar 
exhibition of such a weakness in the future.

Two of the party went over to Tex, who was engaged in the highly necessary 
operation of changing his shirt. "I believe we shall want you too," said 
one of them; Tex denuded himself of his under garment, and throwing it 
towards Tom Baume, exclaimed, "There's my old shirt and plenty of 
greybacks. You'd better arrest them too." He was politely informed that he 
himself, but neither the shirt nor its population, was the object of this 
"unconstitutional restraint," and was asked if the pistols lying on the 
ground were his, which he admitted, and was thereupon told that they were 
wanted also, and that he must consider himself "under arrest" -a technical 
yet simple formula adopted by mountaineers, to assure the individual 
addressed that his brains will, without further warning, be blown out, if 
he should attempt to make a "break." Tex dressed himself and awaited 
further developments.

There appeared to be a belief on the part of both Tex and Ives that they 
should get off; but when they saw the party with Long John, they appeared 
cast down, and said no more.

The other men who were lying around the wakiup, when the scouting party 
rode up, were Aleck Carter, Bob Zachary, Whiskey Bill, Johnny Cooper, and 
two innocent strangers, whose prolonged tenure of life can only be 
accounted for by the knowledge of the circumstance that they were without 
money at the time. Of the fact of the connection of the others with the 
band the boys were ignorant, and were drinking coffee with them, laying 
down their guns within the reach of the robbers, on their bedclothes. Had 
the road agents possessed the nerve to make the experiment, they could 
have blown them to pieces. One of the party, pointing to Aleck Carter, 
said to the leader, "There's one good man among them, any way. I knew him 
on the 'other side'," (west of the mountains). The captain's view of the 
state of things was not altered by this flattering notice. He sang out, in 
a tone of voice that signified "something's up," "Every man take his gun 
and keep it." In after expeditions he had no need to repeat the command. 
Five men were sent into the wakiup, and the rest stood round it. The 
result of their search was the capture of seven dragoon and navy 
revolvers, nine shot-guns and thirteen rifles. These were brought out, and 
in laying them down one of them went off close to Tom Baume's head. Leroy 
Southmayde's pistol -taken from him at the time of the robbery of the 
coach -was one of the weapons. It was recognized at the trial of Ives, by 
the number upon it. About half an inch of the muzzle had been broken off, 
and it had been fixed up smoothly.

All being now ready, the party started for Dempsey's, and George, who was 
mounted on his spotted bob-tailed pony, went along with them. He had 
determined to escape, and in order to carry out his design he expressed a 
wish to try the speed of his horse against the others, and challenged 
several to race with him. This was foolishly permitted, and, but for the 
accidental frustration of his design to procure a remount of unsurpassed 
speed, a score of names might have been added to the long list of his 
murdered victims.

At Dempsey's Ranch there was a bridge in course of construction, and two 
of the men riding ahead saw George Hilderman, standing on the center, at 
work. He was asked if his name was George Hilderman, and replied "Yes," 
whereupon he was informed that he was wanted to go up to Virginia City. He 
inquired whether they had any papers for him, and being told that they had 
not any, he declared that he would not leave the spot; but the leader 
coming up, told him to go "without any foolishness," in a manner that 
satisfied him of the inutility of resistance, and he prepared to accompany 
them; but not as a volunteer, by any means. He said he had no horse. Tom 
Baume offered him a mule. Then he had no saddle. The same kind friend 
found one, and he had to ride with them. His final effort was couched in 
the form of a declaration that the beast would not go. A stick was lying 
on the ground, and he received an instruction, as the conventions word it, 
either to "whip and ride," or "walk and drive." This, practically 
speaking, reconciled him to the breach of the provisions of Magna Charta 
and the Bill of Rights involved in his arrest, and he jogged along, if not 
comfortably, yet, at all events, in peace.

In the mean time, the arch villain in custody of the main body was playing 
his role with much skill and with complete success. He declared his entire 
innocence of the awful crime with which he was charged, and rather 
insinuated than expressed his wish that he might be taken to Virginia, 
where his friends were, and that he might be tried by civil authorities 
(Plummer to empanel the jury), and incidentally remarked that he should 
not like to be tried at Nevada, for that he once killed a dog there which 
had scared his horse, and for that reason they had prejudices against him, 
which might work him serious injury in the event of his trial at that 
place.

There is no doubt that the seeming alacrity with which he apparently 
yielded to the persuasions of his captors threw them off their guard, and 
he was permitted to ride unarmed, but otherwise unrestrained"along with 
the escort.

So large a troop of horsemen never yet rode together mounted on fleet 
cayuses, on the magnificent natural roads of Montana, without yielding to 
the temptation presented to try the comparative merits of their horses, 
and our company of partisan police were no exception to this rule. Scrub 
races were the order of the day, until, in one of them, Geo. Ives, who was 
the winner, attracted the attention of the whole party, by continuing his 
race at the top of his horse's speed; but not until he was at least ten 
rods ahead of the foremost rider, did the guard (?) realize the fact that 
the bird had flown from the open cage. Twenty-four pairs of spurs were 
driven home into the flanks of twenty-four horses, and with a clatter of 
hoofs never since equalled on that road, except when the deluded cavalry 
of Virginia rode down the valley

"To see the savage fray."

or at the reception given to the Hon. J. M. Ashley and party, they swept 
on like a headlong rout.

For a while, the fugitive gained gradually, but surely, on his pursuers, 
heading for Daley's Ranch, where his own fleet and favorite mare was 
standing bridled and saddled, ready for his use (so quietly did 
intelligence fly in those days). Fortune, however, declared against the 
robber. He was too hotly pursued to be able to avail himself of the 
chance. His pursuers seeing a fresh horse from Virginia and a mule 
standing there, leaped on their backs and continued the chase. Ives turned 
his horse's head towards the mountains round Biven's Gulch, and across the 
plain, in that race for life, straining every nerve, flew the 
representatives of crime and justice. Three miles more had been passed, 
when the robber found that his horse's strength was failing, and every 
stride diminishing. That the steeds of Wilson and Burtchey were in no 
better condition; but the use of arms might now decide the race, and 
springing from his horse, he dashed down a friendly ravine, whose rocky 
and boulder-strewn sides might offer some refuge from his relentless foes. 
Quick as thought, the saddles of his pursuers were empty, and the trial of 
speed was now to be continued on foot. On arriving at the edge of the 
ravine Ives was not visible; but it was evidence that he must be concealed 
within a short distance. Burtchey quickly "surrounded" the spot, and sure 
enough, there was Ives crouching behind a rock. Drawing a bead on him, 
Burtchey commanded him to come forth and with a light and careless laugh 
he obeyed. The wily Bohemian was far too astute, however, to be thus 
overreached, and before Ives could get near enough to master his gun, a 
stern order to "stand fast" destroyed his last hope and he remained 
motionless until assistance arrived, in the person of Wilson.

Two hours had elapsed between the time of the escape and the recapture and 
return of the prisoner. A proposition was made to the captain to raise a 
pole and hang him there, but this was. negatived. After gayly chatting 
with the boys, and treating them, the word was given to "Mount," and in 
the center of a hollow square Ives began to realize his desperate 
situation.

Tidings of the capture flew fast and far. Through every nook and dell of 
the inhabited parts of the Territory, wildly and widely spread the news. 
Johnny Gibbons, who afterward made such sly and rapid tracks for Utah, 
haunted with visions of vigilance committee, joined the party before they 
reached the canyon at Alder Creek, and accompanied them to Nevada. At that 
time he was a part owner of the Cottonwood Ranch (Dempsey's),* and kept 
the band well informed of all persons who passed with large sums of money.

The sun had sunk behind the hills when the detachment reached. Nevada, on 
the evening of the 18th of December, and a discussion arose upon the 
question whether they should bring Ives to Virginia, or detain him for the 
night at Nevada. The "conservatives" and "radicals" had a long argument 
developing an "irrepressible conflict;" but the radicals, on a vote, 
carried their point -rejecting Johnny Gibbons's suffrage on the ground of 
mixed blood. It was thereupon determined to keep Ives at Nevada until 
morning, and then to determine the place of trial.**

* First ranch recorded on the Stinking Mater.
** Judge Lott's story.

The prisoners were separated and chained. A strong guard was. posted 
inside and outside of the house, and the night came and went without 
developing anything remarkable. But all that weary night, a "solitary 
horseman might have been seen" galloping along the road. at topmost speed, 
with frequent relays of horses, on his way to Bannack City. This was 
Lieut. George Lane, alias Club-foot, who was sent with news of the high-
handed outrage that was being perpetrated in defiance of law, and with no 
regard whatever to the constituted authorities. He was also instructed to 
suggest that Plummer should come forthwith to Nevada, demand the culprit 
for the civil authorities, enforce that demand by what is fitly called 
hocus pocus as habeas corpus, and see that he had a fair (?) trial.

As soon as it was determined that Ives should remain at Nevada, Gibbons 
dashed up the street to Virginia, meeting a lawyer or two on the way -

"Where the carrion is, there will the vultures, etc."

At the California Exchange, Gibbons found Messrs. Smith and Ritchie, and a 
consultation between client, attorney and proch ein ami, resulted in 
Lane's mission to Bannack, as one piece of strategy that faintly promised 
the hope for rewards. All of Ives' friends were notified to be at Nevada 
early the next morning.

The forenoon of the 19th saw the still swelling tide of miners, merchants 
and artisans wending their way to Nevada, and all the morning was spent in 
private examinations of the prisoners, and private consultations as to the 
best method of trial. Friends of the accused were found in all classes of 
society; many of them were assiduously at work to create a sentiment in 
his favor, while a large multitude were there, suspicious that the right 
man had been caught; and resolved, if such should prove to be the case, 
that no loophole of escape should be found for him, in any technical form 
of the law.

Although on the eve of "Forefather's Day," there was in the atmosphere the 
mildness and the serenity of October. There was no snow and but little ice 
along the edges of sluggish streams; but the sun, bright and genial, 
warmed the clear air, and even thawed out the congealed mud in the middle 
of the streets. Little boys were at play in the streets, and fifteen 
hundred men stood in them, impatient for action, but waiting without a 
murmur, in order that everything might be done decently and in order.

Messrs. Smith, Ritchie, Thurmond and Colonel Wood. were Ives' lawyers, 
with whom was associated Mr. Alex Davis, then a comparative stranger in 
Montana.

Col. W. F. Sanders, at that time residing at Bannack City, but temporarily 
sojourning at Virginia, was sent for to conduct the prosecution, and Hon. 
Charles S. Bagg was appointed. his colleague, at the request of Judge 
Wilson, Mr. Bagg being a miner, and then little known.

* Ives was tried before Judge Byam.

In settling upon the mode of trial, much difference of opinion was 
developed; but the miners finally determined that it should be held in the 
presence of the whole body of citizens, and reserved to themselves the 
ultimate decision of all questions; but lest something should escape their 
attention, and injustice thereby be done to the public, or to the 
prisoner, a delegation composed of twelve men from each district (Nevada 
and Junction) was appointed to hear the proof, and to act as an advisory 
jury. W. H. Patton, of Nevada, and W. Y. Pemberton, of Virginia, were 
appointed amanuenses. An attempt to get on the jury twelve men from 
Virginia was defeated, and, late in the afternoon, the trial began and 
continued till nightfall. The three prisoners, George Ives, George 
Hilderman and Long John. (John Franck) were chained with the lightest 
logging chain that could be found -this was wound round their legs, and 
the links were secured with padlocks.

In introducing testimony for the people, on the morning of the 21st, the 
miners informed all concerned that the trial must close at three p. m. The 
announcement was received with great satisfaction.

It is unnecessary to describe the trial, or to recapitulate the evidence. 
Suffice it to say that two alibis, based on the testimony of George Brown 
and Honest Whiskey Joe, failed altogether. Among the lawyers, there was, 
doubtless, the usual amount of brow-beating and technical insolence, 
intermingled with displays of eloquence and learning; but not the rhetoric 
of Blair, the learning of Coke, the metaphysics of Alexander, the wit of 
Jerrold, or the odor of 0berlin, could dull the perceptions of those hardy 
mountaineers, or mislead them from the stern and righteous pursuit of all 
this labor, which was to secure immunity to the persons and property of 
the community, and to guarantee a like protection to those who should cast 
their lot in Montana in time to come.

The evidence was not confined to the charge of murder; but showed, also, 
that Ives had been acting in the character of a robber, as well as that of 
a murderer; and it may well be doubted whether he would have been 
convicted at all, if developments damaging to the reputations and 
dangerous to the existence of some of his friends had not been made during 
the trial, on which they absented themselves mysteriously, and have never 
been seen since. There was an instinctive and unerring conviction that the 
worst man in the community was on trial; but it was hard work, after all 
the proof and all this feeling to convict him.

Prepossessing in his appearance; brave beyond a doubt; affable in his 
manners; jolly and free among his comrades, and with thousands of dollars 
at his command; bad and good men alike working upon the feeling of the 
community, when they could not disturb its judgment -it seemed, at times, 
that all the labor was to end in disastrous failure.

The crowd which gathered around that fire in front of the court is vividly 
before our eyes. We see the wagon containing the Judge, and an advocate 
pleading with all his earnestness and eloquence for the dauntless robber, 
on whose unmoved features no shade of despondency can be traced by the 
fitful glare of the blazing wood, which lights up, at the same time, the 
stern and impassive features of the guard, who, in every kind of 
habiliments, stand in various attitudes, in a circle surrounding the scene 
of justice. The attentive faces and compressed lips of the jurors show 
their sense of the vast responsibility that rests upon them, and of their 
firm resolve to do their duty. Ever and anon a brighter flash than 
ordinary reveals the expectant crowd of miners, thoughtfully and steadily 
gazing on the scene, and listening intently to the trial. Beyond this 
close phalanx, fretting and shifting around its outer edge, sways with 
quick and uncertain motion the wavering line of desperadoes and 
sympathizers with the criminal; their haggard, wild and alarmed 
countenances showing too plainly that they tremble at the issue which is, 
when decided, to drive them in exile from Montana, or to proclaim them as 
associate criminals, whose fate could neither be delayed nor dubious. A 
sight like this will ne'er be seen again in Montana. It was the crisis of 
the fate of the Territory. Nor was the position of prosecutor, guard, 
juror or Judge, one that any but a brave and law-abiding citizen would 
choose, or even accept. Marked for slaughter by desperadoes, these men 
staked their lives for the welfare of the society. A mortal strife between 
Colonel Sanders and one of the opposing lawyers was only prevented by the 
prompt action of wise men, who corralled the combatants on their way to 
fight. The hero of that hour of trial was avowedly W. F. Sanders. Not a 
desperado present but would have felt honored by becoming his murderer, 
and yet, fearless as a lion, he stood there confronting and defying the 
malice of his armed adversaries. The citizens of Montana, many of them his 
bitter political opponents, recollect his actions with gratitude and 
kindly feeling. Charles S. Bagg is also remembered as having been at his 
post when the storm blew loudest.

The argument of the case having terminated, the issue was, in the first 
place, left to the decision of the twenty-four who had been selected for 
that purpose, and they thereupon retired to consult.

Judge Byam, who shouldered the responsibility of the whole proceeding, 
will never be forgotten by those in whose behalf he courted certain, 
deadly peril, and probable death.

The jury were absent, deliberating on their verdict, but little less than 
half an hour, and on their return, twenty-three made a report that Ives 
was proven guilty; but one member -Henry Spivey -declined to give in any 
finding, for unknown reasons.

The crisis of the affair had now arrived. A motion was made, "That the 
report of the committee be received, and it discharged from further 
consideration of that case," which Mr. Thurmond opposed; but upon 
explanation, deferred pressing his objections until the motion should be 
made to adopt the report, and to accept the verdict of the committee as 
the judgment of the people there assembled; and thus the first formal 
motion passed without opposition.

Before this, some of the crowd were clamorous for an adjournment, and now 
Ives' friends renewed the attempt; but it met with signal failure.

Another motion, "That the assembly adopt as their verdict the report of 
the committee," was made, and called forth the irrepressible and 
indefatigable Thurmond and Col. J. M. Wood; but it carried, there being 
probably not more than one hundred votes against it.

Here it was supposed by many that the proceedings would end for the 
present, and that the court would adjourn until the morrow, as it was 
already dark. Col. Sanders, however, mounted the wagon, and having recited 
that Ives had been declared a murderer and a robber by the people there 
assembled, moved "That George Ives be forthwith hung by the neck until he 
is dead" -a bold and business-like movement which excited feeble 
opposition, was carried before the defendant seemed to realize the 
situation; but a friend or two and some old acquaintances having gained 
admission to the circle within which Ives was guarded, to bid him 
farewell, awakened him to a sense of the condition in which he was placed, 
and culprit and counsel sought to defer the execution. Some of his ardent 
counsel shed tears, of which lachrymose effusions it is well to say no 
more than that they were copious. The vision of a long and scaly creature, 
inhabiting the Nile, rises before us in connection with this aqueous 
sympathy for an assassin. Quite a number of his old chums were, as 
Petroleum V. Nasby says, "weeping profoosly." Then came moving efforts to 
have the matter postponed until the coming morning, Ives giving 
assurances, upon his honor, that no attempt at rescue or escape would be 
made; but already Davis and Hereford* were seeking a favorable spot for 
the execution.

Our Legislative Assembly seem to have forgotten that Mr. A. B. Davis** had 
any of these arduous labors to perform, but none who were present will 
ever forget the fearless activity which he displayed all through those 
trials. A differentlv constituted body may yet sit in Montana and vote him 
his five hundred dollars.

* Hereford put the rope around Ives' neck.

** Died in Helena, at the Masonic Home, in 1915. Davis always went by the 
nickname of Lazy Davis, as he never did like to work.

The appeals made by Ives and Thurmond for a delay of the execution were 
such as human weakness cannot well resist. It is most painful to be 
compelled to deny even a day's brief space, during which the criminal may 
write to mother and sister, and receive for himself such religious 
consolation as the most hardened desire, under such circumstances; but 
that body of men had come there deeply moved by repeated murders and 
robberies, and meant "business." The history of former trials was there 
more freshly and more deeply impressed upon the minds of men than it is 
now, and the result of indecision was before their eyes. The most touching 
appeal from Ives, as he held the hand of Col. Sanders, lost its force when 
met by the witheringly sarcastic request of one of the crowd,* "Ask him 
how long a time he gave the Dutchman." betters were dictated by him and 
written by Thurmond. His will was made, in which the lawyers and his chums 
in iniquity were about equally remembered, to the entire seclusion of his 
mother and sisters in Wisconsin. Whether or not it was a time for tears, 
it was assuredly a time of tears; but neither weakness nor remorse 
moistened the eyes of Ives. He seemed neither haughty nor yet subdued; in 
fact, he was exactly imperturbable. From a place not more than ten yards 
from where he sat during the trial he was led to execution.

* J. X. Beidler.

The prisoner had repeatedly declared that he would never "die in his
boots," and he asked the sergeant of the guard for a pair of moccasins, 
which were given to him; but after a while he seemed to be chilled and 
requested that his boots might again be put on. Thus George Ives "died in 
his boots."

During the whole trial, the doubting, trembling, desperate friends of Ives 
exhausted human ingenuity to devise methods for his escape, trying 
intimidation, weak appeals to sympathy, and ever and anon exhibiting their 
abiding faith in "Nice, sharp quillets of the law." All the time the 
roughs awaited with a suspense of hourly increasing painfulness the 
arrival of their boasted chief, who had so long and so successfully 
sustained the three inimical characters of friend of their clan, friend of 
the people and guardian of the laws.

Not more anxiously did the great captain at Waterloo sigh for "Night or 
Blucher" than did they for Plummer. But, relying upon him, they deferred 
all other expedients; and when the dreaded end came, as come it must, they 
felt that the tide in the affairs of villains had not been taken at its 
flood, and not without a struggle they yielded to the inevitable logic of 
events, and because they could not help it they gave their loved companion 
to the gallows.

Up to the very hour at which he was hanged they were confident of 
Plummer's arrival in time to save him. But events were transpiring 
throughout the Territory which produced intense excitement, and rumor on 
her thousand wings was ubiquitous in her journeying on absurd errands.

Before Lane reached Bannack news of Ives' arrest had reached there, with 
the further story that the men of Alder Gulch were wildwith excitement, 
and ungovernable from passion; that a vigilance committee had been formed; 
a number of the best citizens hanged, and that from three hundred to five 
hundred men were on their way to Bannack City to hang Plummer, Ray, 
Stinson, George Chrisman, A. J. McDonald and others. This last "bulletin 
from the front" was probably the offspring of Plummer's brain. It is also 
likely that Lane and perhaps Ray and Stinson helped in the hatching of the 
story. Suffice it to say that Plummer told it often, shedding crocodile 
tears that such horribe designs existed in the minds of any as the death 
of his, as yet, unrobbed friends, Chrisman, McDonald and Pitt.

His was a most unctuous sorrow, intended at that crisis to be seen of men 
in Bannack, and quite a number of the good citizens clubbed together to 
defend each other from the contemplated assault, the precise hour for 
which' Plummer's detectives had learned, and all night long many kept 
watch and ward to give the attacking party a warm reception.

There is no doubt that Plummer believed that such a body of men were on 
their way to Bannack City after him, Ray, Stinson and company. The 
coupling of the other names with theirs was his own work, and was an 
excellent tribute paid in a back-handed way to their integrity and high 
standing in the community.

"Conscience doth make cowards of all."

and Lane found Plummer anxious to look after his own safety rather than 
that of George Ives. The rumors carried day by day from the trial to the 
band in different parts of the Territory were surprising in their 
exactness, and in the celerity with which they were carried; but they were 
changed in each community by those most interested into forms best suited 
to subserve the purposes of the robbers; and, in this way, did they 
beguile into sympathy with them and their misfortunes many fair, honest 
men.

Ives' trial for murder, though not the first in the Territory, differed 
from any that had preceded it.

Before this memorable day citizens, in the presence of a welldisciplined 
and numerous band of desperadoes, had spoken of their atrocities with 
bated breath; and witnesses upon their trial had testified in whispering 
humbleness. Prosecuting lawyers, too, had in their arguments often 
startled the public with such novel propositions as "Now, gentlemen, you 
have heard the witnesses and it is for you to say whether the defendant is 
or is not guilty; if he is guilty you should say so, but if not, you ought 
to acquit him. I leave this with you, to whom it rightfully belongs." But 
the counsel for the defense were, at least, guiltless of uttering these 
last platitudes; for a vigorous defense hurt no one and won hosts of 
friends -of a certain kind. But on Ives' trial there was given forth no 
uncertain sound. Robbery and honesty locked horns for the mastery, each 
struggling for empire; and each stood by his banner until the contest 
ended -fully convinced of the importance of victory. Judge Byam remained 
by the prisoner from the time judgment was given, and gave all the 
necessary directions for carrying it into effect. Robert Hereford was the 
executive officer.

An unfinished house, having only the side-walls up, was chosen as the best 
place near at hand for carrying into effect the sentence of death. The 
preparations though entirely sufficient, were both simple and brief. The 
butt of a forty-foot pole was planted inside the house at the foot of one 
of the walls, and the stick leaned over a cross beam. Near the point was 
tied the fatal cord, with the open noose dangling fearfully at its lower 
end. A large goods box was the platform. The night had closed in with a 
bright, full moon, and around that altar of vengeance the stern and 
resolute faces of the guard were visible under all circumstances of light 
and shade conceivable. Unmistakable determination was expressed in every 
line of their bronzed and Weatherbeaten countenances.

George Ives was led to the scaffold in fifty-eight minutes from the time 
his doom was fixed. A perfect babel of voices saluted 'the movement. Every 
roof was covered, and cries of "Hang him!" "Don't hang him!" "Banish him!" 
"I'll shoot!" " their murdering souls!" "Let's hang Long John!" were heard 
all around. The revolvers could be seen flashing in the moonlight. The 
guard stood like a rock. They had heard the muttered threats of a rescue 
from the crowd, and with grim firmness -the characteristic of the miners 
when they mean "business" -they stood ready to beat them back. Woe to the 
mob that should surge against that living bulwark. They would have fallen 
as grass before the scythe.

As the prisoner stepped on to the fatal platform, the noise ceased, and 
the stillness became painful. The rope was adjusted, and the usual request 
was made as to whether he had anything to say. With a firm voice he 
replied. "I am innocent of this crime; Aleck Carter killed the Dutchman."

The strong emphasis on the word "this" convinced all around that he meant 
his words to convey the impression that he was guilty of other crimes. Up 
to this moment he had always accused Long John of the murder.

Ives expressed a wish to see Long John, and. the crowd of sympathizers 
yelled in approbation; but the request was denied, for an attempt at a 
rescue was expected.

All being ready, the word was given to the guard,* "Men, do your duty." 
The click of the locks rang sharply, and the pieces flashed in the 
moonlight as they came to the "aim." The box flew from under the 
murderer's feet with a crash, and George Ives swung in the night breeze, 
facing the pale moon that lighted up the scene of retributive justice.

* Charles Beehrer was the man that used those words.

As the vengeful click! click! of the locks sounded their note of deadly 
warning to the intended rescuers, the crowd stampeded in wild affright, 
rolling over one another in heaps, shrieking and howling with terror.

When the drop fell, the Judge, who was standing close beside Ives, called 
out, "His neck is broken; he is dead." This announcement and the certainty 
of its truth -for the prisoner never moved a limb -convinced the few 
resolute desperadoes who knew not fear that the case was hopeless, and 
they retired with grinding teeth and with muttered curses issuing from 
their lips.

It is astonishing what a wonderful effect is produced upon an angry mob by 
the magic sound referred to. Hostile demonstrations are succeeded by a mad 
panic; rescuers turn their undivided attention to their own corporal 
salvation; eyes that gleamed with anger, roll wildly with terror; the 
desire for slaughter gives way to the fear of death, and courage hands the 
craven fear his sceptre of command. When a double-barreled shot-gun is 
pointed at a traveller by a desperado the feeling is equally intense; but 
its development is different. The organ of "acquisitiveness" is dormant; 
"combativeness" and "destructiveness" are inert; "caution" calls 
"benevolence" to do its duty; a very large lump rises into the wayfarer's 
throat; cold chills follow the downward course of the spine, and the value 
of money, as compared with that of bodily safety, instantly reaches the 
minimum point. Verily, "All that a man hath will he give for his life." We 
have often smiled at the fiery indignation of the great untried when 
listening to their account of what they would have done if a couple of 
road agents ordered them to throw up their hands; but they failed to do 
anything towards convincing us that they would not have sent valor to the 
rear at the first onset, and appeared as the very living and breathing 
impersonations of discretion. We felt certain that were they "loaded to 
the guards" with the gold dust, they would come out of the scrape as poor 
as Lazarus, and as mild and insinuating in demeanor as a Boston mamma with 
six marriageable daughters.

At last the deed was done. The law-abiding among the citizens breathed 
more freely, and all felt that the worst man in the community was dead -
that the neck of crime was broken, and that the reign of terror was ended.

The body of Ives was left hanging for an hour. At the expiration of this 
period of time it was cut down, carried into a wheelbarrow shop, and laid 
out on a work bench. A guard was then placed over it till morning, when 
the friends of the murderer had him decently interred. He lies in his 
narrow bed, near his victim -the murdered Tbalt -to await his final doom, 
when they shall stand face to face at the grand tribunal, where every man 
shall be rewarded according to his deeds.

George Ives, though so renowned a desperado, was by no means an ancient 
practitioner in his profession. In 1857-58 he worked as a miner, honestly 
and hard, in California, and though wild and reckless was not accused of 
dishonesty. His first great venture in the line of robbery was the 
stealing of government mules, near Walla Walla. He was employed as herder, 
and used to report that certain of his charge were dead every time that a 
storm occurred. The officer of the post believed the story,and inquired no 
further. In this way George ran off quite a decent herd, with the aid of 
his friends. In Elk City he startled his old employer in the mines of 
California by riding his horse into a saloon, and when that gentleman 
seized the bridle, he drew his revolver, and would certainly have killed 
him, but fortunately he caught sight of the face of his intended victim in 
time, and returning his pistol, he apologized for his conduct. When 
leaving the city he wished to present his splendid grey mare to his 
friend, who had for old acquaintance's sake supplied his wants; but the 
present, though often pressed upon this gentleman, was as often refused; 
for no protestations of Ives could convince him that the beautiful animal 
was fairly his property. He said that he earned it honestly by mining. His 
own account of the stealing of the government mules which we have given 
above was enough to settle that question definitely. It was from the 
"other side" that Ives came over to Montana -then a part of Idaho -and 
entered with full purpose upon the career which ended at Nevada so fatally 
and shamefully for himself, and so happily for the people of this 
Territory.

A short biographical sketch of Ives and of the rest of the gang will 
appear at the end of the present work.

The trial of Hilderman was a short matter. He was defended by Judge (?) H. 
P. A. Smith. He had not been known as a very bad man; but was a weak and 
somewhat imbecile old fellow, reasonably honest in a strictly honest 
community, but easily led to hide the small treasure, keep the small 
secrete, and do the dirty work of strong-minded, self-willed, desperate 
men, whether willingly or through fear the trial did not absolutely 
determine. The testimony of Dr. Glick showed him to be rather cowardly and 
a great eater. He had known of the murder of Tbalt for some weeks, and had 
never divulged it. He was also cognizant of the murder near Cold Spring 
Ranch, and was sheltering and hiding the perpetrators. He had concealed 
the stolen mules too; but, in view of the disclosures made by many, after 
Ives was hung, and the power of the gang being broken., such disclosures 
did not so much damage men in the estimation of the honest mountaineer. 
Medical men were taken to wounded robbers to dress their wounds; they were 
told in what affray they were received, and the penalty of repeating the 
story to outsiders was sometimes told; but to others it was described by a 
silence more expressive than words. Other parties, too, came into 
possession of the knowledge of the tragedies enacted by them, from their 
own lips, and under circumstances rendering silence a seeming necessity. 
To be necessarily the repository of their dreadful secrets was no enviable 
position. Their espionage upon every word uttered by the unfortunate 
accessory was offensive, and it was not a consolatory thought that, at any 
moment, his life might pay the penalty of any revelation he should make; 
and a person placed in such a "fix" was to some extent a hostage for the 
reticence of all who knew the same secret.

If stronger-minded men that Hilderman could pretend to be, had kept 
secrets at the bidding of the road agents, and that too in the populous 
places, where there were surely some to defend them -it was argued that a 
weak-minded man, away from all neighbors, where by day and by night he 
could have been killed and hidden from all human eyes, with perfect 
impunity -had some apology for obeying their behests.

Mr. Smith's defense of Hilderman was rather creditable to him. There was 
none of the braggadocio common to such occasions, and the people -feeling 
that they had caught and executed a chief of the gang -felt kindly 
disposed towards the old man.

Hilderman was banished from Montana, and was allowed ten days' time for 
the purpose of settling his affairs and leaving. When he arrived at 
Bannack City, Plummer told him not to go; but the old man took counsel of 
his fears, and comparing the agile and effeminate form of Plummer with 
those of the earnest mountaineers at Nevada, he concluded that he would 
rather bet on them than on Plummer, and being furnished by the latter with 
a pony and provisions, he left Montana forever.

When found guilty and recommended to mercy, he dropped on his knees, 
exclaiming, "My God, is it so?" At the close of his trial he made a 
statement, wherein he confirmed nearly all Long John had said of Ives.

Thus passed one of the crises which have arisen in this new community. The 
result demonstrated that when the good and lawabiding were banded together 
and all put forth their united strength, they were too strong for the 
lawlessness which was manifested when Ives was hung.

It has generally been supposed and believed that Plummer was not present 
at the trial of Ives, or at his execution. We are bound, however, to state 
that Mr. Clinton, who kept a saloon in Nevada at the time, positively 
asserts that he was in the room when Plummer took a drink there, a few 
minutes before the roughs made their rush at the fall of Ives, and that he 
went out and headed the mob in the effort which the determination of the 
guard rendered unsuccessful.

Long John having turned states' evidence was set free, and we believe that 
he still remains in the Territory.

One thing was conclusively shown to all who witnessed the trial of Ives. 
If every road agent costs as much labor, time and money for his 
conviction, the efforts of the citizens would have, practically, failed 
altogether. Some shorter, surer, and at least equally equitable method of 
procedure was to be found. The necessity for this, and the trial of its 
efficiency when it was adopted, form the ground-work of this history.