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Show FATE OF THE GUERRILLAS. 169 fringed with dark clumps of pine, spruce and balsam, and protected by mountains that stand like giant warders to this, enchanted land. The whole so wondrously wild, yet so serene and peaceful, one could scarcely realize that the adjacent fastnesses were ever used to shelter bands of guerrillas, thieves and robbers. FATE OF THE GUERRILLAS. Let me tell the story before I forget it. Years ago, in 1864, I believe, there came from Texas a troop of cutthroats, who claimed to be Confederate soldiers, but were nothing of the kind. Their leader, Jim Reynolds, was one of the earliest gold-seekers of California Gulch, and knew the country well. He came to plunder the miners, and excited his followers with marvelous tales of the riches to be had. One pleasant day in July, 1864, as the coach that maintained communication between Buckskin Joe and Denver was nearing McLaughlin's ranch, where Como now stands, these guerrillas, booted, spurred and armed to the teeth, appeared before it, and roughly commanded the driver to halt and surrender, declaring themselves to be Confederate soldiers, capturing all such outfits. The line was owned and conducted by Mr. W. G. McClellan, a small, gentlemanly man, who was seated by the driver, Ab. Williamson. They were ordered down, and their money demanded. Ab. said, a stage driver was never before suspected of having any; but this little piece of rail-ery did not prevent their searching him. They then snapped his whip under his nose, which is the greatest indignity that could be offered to a driver, and proceeded to business. With a pistol aimed at the head of Mr. McClellan, they demanded the express box, the mail bags and his watch. |