The log cabin Democrat., 1909-10-15

be some satisfaction to know that his murder would not be unavenged.
 I said nothing to Jack Burrell Of my intentions, as I wished to play c lone hand on this occasion and knew that he would have insisted upon ac. companying me- Had he come up with Daly there is not the slightest doubt that one or the other would have been killed on the spot, and what I wanted was to take the fugitive alive. But the best laid plans of mice and men are sometimes doomed to go crooked, according to the proverb, and as things turned out, the capture of Bat Daly was to be reserved for other hands than mine I rode into Pres colt on my favorite little brown horse that was credited with racing record of 2:10, put him up at livery stable, and went to interview the sheriff, George c. Ruffner, an old friend of mine. It was on my way to Ruffner's house that one of those slight but az gravating accidents happened which sometimes have such far-reaching and unexpected results. Walking along at rapid pace I stumbled over a stone and fell heavily. wrenching the sin ews of my left leg badly. l limped on to my destination in no very cheerful frame of mind and recounted both the story of my misfortune and the main object of my visit to Ruffner. He grinned little, but proved sympa- thetic and promised to see what he l.. |. realized that about the only plan could pursue was to keep still and rest my injured limb, leaving the chase of Daly to Ruffner, who, by the way, was exactly the man for the job.
 At the time I speak of, the year 1896, George Ruffner had served two terms as sheriff, and during the four years of his administration his name had become a terror to evil-doers in the territory. A tall, lanky, raw boned fellow, weighing about 15o pounds, with sinews of whipcord and nerves of steel, he was absolutely fearless and welcomed the prospect of a fight as another man might a much-needed meal Add to this that he was an unerring shot and superb horseman, sitting in his saddle as though he were glued there. and you have the correct portrait of Ruffner as he was then. It was said of him that he had never started on the trail of fugitive without running his man down at the finish, and this was an actual fact.
 Later that afternoon Ruffner came hurriedly into the room where l was sitting and saluted me with a grim smile.
 Eve got some news for you, Frank he said. Your friend Day has added another mark to his shooting record, right here in Prescott. A little while | ago he got in an argument in a saloon l with an unfortunate chap named Ty- Ter, a prospector, and put bullet in his head"
 What was the cause of the trouble, and did you land Daly?" I asked.
 Tt was nothing but pure, drunken devilishness on Dalys part, as far as I can make out" replied the sheriff. q haven't got Daily yet, but I'm going after him at once. By the way, that's smart little brown horse of yours, isn't he?"
 Rather" I answered, with a cer- tain amount of pride. He has a rec ord of 2:10. Would you like to take him on Daly's trail?"
 "I would" returned Ruffner, grin ming sardonically, but it happens that Bat Daly took fancy to him first and skipped out on his back"
 What" I yelled, you don't mean to tell me that human coyote got away with my horse?"
 But I do," said Ruffner. After he killed Tyler he made break for the livery stable, selected the best looking pony that happened to be there, and | his choice fell on your brown nag. | He's heading for the California line, l | suppose, and I'm going after him." I resolved to remain in Prescott to await Ruffner's return. Bat Daily had good start in advance of his pur- suer and I knew that the chase was liable to be pretty long one, owing to the excellent mount that thu mur- | derer had secured. And so 1t turned out, for 1t was not until the th'rd day of the chase that Ruffner, following the trail of his quarry in the sand, came up with Bat Daly. The journey
 would have daunted any one but des
 perate man fleeing for his life or an avenger of Ruffners unrelenting type,
 for the trail led through a desolate
 sage-brush and mesquite desert, and
 both men were compelled to ford the
 Colorado river 40 miles below tho Needles, where that turbulent stream
 Is over coo feet wide. But Ruffner pressed on doggedly. Fifty miles from
 Prescott he encountered number of cowboys out on a round up, who gave him the trail Daly had taken, and SUD-
 piled him with food from the outfit wagon. On the morning of the third day, 12 miles over the California line. l southeast of Death Valley, the sheriff came up with his man. The fact that he was over the state line and exceed ing his official authority did not deter Ruffner from stalking MT Bat DaIv