ght was wonderfully bright,
and for a long distance objects could be seen, and bunches of sage bush
and Spanish bayonet took the forms of horsemen, and naturally I saw
danger in every little thing we passed.

One thing occurred that night that deserves mentioning. Some one told
the soldiers that Oliver was hidden in a certain house, and one of them,
a private, started off without leave, and all alone for that house. When
he got there the entire building was dark, not a light in it, except
that of the moon which streamed in through two small windows. But the
gritty soldier went boldly in and searched every little room and every
little corner, even the cellar, but not a living thing was found. It may
have been brave, but it was a dreadful thing for the trooper to do, for
he so easily could have been murdered in the darkness, and Faye and
the soldiers never have known what had become of him. Colonel Bissell
declares that the man shall be made a corporal upon the first vacancy.

The man Oliver was in the jail at Las Animas last summer for stealing
horses. The old jail was very shaky, and while it was being made
more secure, he and another man--a wife murderer--were brought to
the guardhouse at this post. They finally took them back, and Oliver
promptly made his escape, and the sheriff had actually been afraid to
re-arrest him. We have all begged Faye to get out a warrant for the man,
but he says it would simply be a farce, that the sheriff would pay no
attention to it. The whole left side of Faye's face is badly swollen and
very painful, and the wound in his ankle compels him to use a cane.
Just how the man managed to shoot Faye in the ankle no one seems to
understand.

Granada must be a terrible place! The very afternoon Faye was there a
Mexican was murdered in the main street, but not the slightest attention
was paid to the shooting--everything went right on as though it was an
everyday occurrence. The few respectable people are afraid even to try
to keep order.

Dodge City used to be that way and there was a reign of terror in the
town, until finally the twelve organized vigilantes became desperate
and took affairs in their own hands. They notified six of the leading
desperadoes that they must be out of the place by a certain day and
hour. Four went, but two were defiant and remained. When the specified
hour had passed, twelve double-barreled shotguns were loaded with
buckshot, and in a body the vigilantes hunted the