often regretted that
I had reached the place too late to see him in action. I had little
or nothing to do in the office. The tedium of the long days was almost
unbroken, and Stephen's "Commentaries" had become as monotonous and
unattractive as the bare uncarpeted floor. The heat was tropical, and
I was dozing when a knock startled me. A negro boy slouched in with a
bundle of newspapers: "This yer is Jedge Locock's, I guess?" "I guess
so," was my answer as I lazily opened the third or fourth number of
the "Kiota Weekly Tribune." Glancing over the sheet my eye caught the
following paragraph:

"HIGHWAY ROBBERY WITH VIOLENCE.

JUDGE SHANNON STOPPED.

THE OUTLAW ESCAPES. HE KNOWS SHERIFF JOHNSON.

"Information has just reached us of an outrage perpetrated on the person
of one of our most respected fellow-citizens. The crime was committed in
daylight, on the public highway within four miles of this city; a crime,
therefore, without parallel in this vicinity for the last two years.
Fortunately our County and State authorities can be fully trusted,
and we have no sort of doubt that they can command, if necessary, the
succour and aid of each and every citizen of this locality in order to
bring the offending miscreant to justice.

"We now place the plain recital of this outrage before our readers.

"Yesterday afternoon, as Ex-Judge Shannon was riding from his law-office
in Kiota towards his home on Sumach Bluff, he was stopped about four
miles from this town by a man who drew a revolver on him, telling him
at the same time to pull up. The Judge, being completely unarmed and
unprepared, obeyed, and was told to get down from the buckboard, which
he did. He was then ordered to put his watch and whatever money he had,
in the road, and to retreat three paces.

"The robber pocketed the watch and money, and told him he might tell
Sheriff Johnson that Tom Williams had 'gone through him,' and that he
(Williams) could be found at the saloon in Osawotamie at any time. The
Judge now hoped for release, but Tom Williams (if that be the robber's
real name) seemed to get an afterthought, which he at once proceeded to
carry into effect. Drawing a knife he cut the traces, and took out of
the shafts the Judge's famous trotting mare, Lizzie D., which he mounted
with the remark:

"'Sheriff Johnson, I reckon, would come after the money anyway, but the
hoss'll fetch him--sure pop.'

"These words have just been given to us by J