Hunted Down; or, Five Days in the Fog

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Granice Harry. Hunted Down; or, Five Days in the Fog

Hunted Down; or, Five Days in the Fog

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On Monday morning, at about fifteen minutes to eight o'clock, December 7th, 1874, immediately after the shooting, or as soon thereafter as I could collect my scattered senses, which was in about three minutes, I inquired for the sheriff for the purpose of giving myself up; but he nor any of his deputies were on the spot. After waiting a few minutes longer I began to grow impatient at the delay of the officers, and not wishing to move from the scene of shooting for fear the movement would be misconstrued and I be accused of trying to effect an escape, I sent a messenger in quest of Sheriff Meany (I forget now who the messenger was). In a short time thereafter Sheriff Meany arrived on the spot, and perceiving him, I addressed him thus: "Sheriff Meany, I am your prisoner." He grabbed me in rather a rough manner by the lapel of my coat, took me to the lock-up, thence to the El Capitan hotel, and after remaining at the latter place for half an hour (for what reason I know not), he conducted me back to the lock-up, thrust me in, and turned the key on me. In a short time thereafter my breakfast was brought to me without knife or fork to eat with. The victuals were not fit for a dog to eat. I so expressed myself to Meany, and asked him to give me a decent breakfast. He answered me thus: "That has got to answer. Can't treat you different from other prisoners." With the exception of the coffee, I set the breakfast aside.

In the meantime, quite a crowd had collected outside the jail, and Meany was inciting them to mob violence by his vindictive expressions against me. I kept perfectly quiet and said nothing to Meany nor his deputies. Suspecting the duplicity of Meany, I despatched a courier for my brother George, who was living some fifteen miles north of Merced. My brother arrived in town about noon, and immediately came to me. He was searched by Meany and then admitted into the lock-up. He had hardly shaken hands with me when he heard Meany say something, and turning to me, remarked: "I hear Meany talking, and I think it unsafe to be in here, as I am in their power while shut up in here." He immediately asked to be let out, and his request was acceded to. In the course of the day a fellow named Packard, a shoulder-hitter of Meany's, came skulking around the jail and, picking up a gun, attempted to get an opportunity to shoot me through the bars of the lock-up. I perceived his intention in time to hug the wall directly under the bars, thereby preventing him from assassinating me. The deputy sheriff told him to put the gun down; that he had no right to pick it up. After loitering around a few minutes longer, Meany came up, and then this Packard commenced to annoy me with insulting remarks; and although Meany was there and heard him, he said nothing to him. He left shortly after, indulging in the remarks mentioned above, and I afterwards learned that he returned and tried to shoot me through the bars of the jail with a pistol. I knew that my danger was great, and my only hope was in my friends protecting me, not the Sheriff, for he had expressed himself in such a free manner in my hearing, although he did not know that I was listening, that I knew there was no protection to hope for from that source. Knowing this, I did not beseech him to save me; I merely asked him, when I gave myself into his custody, to take me before a justice of the peace; I would waive an examination and go to Modesto. It was eight o'clock in the morning when I delivered myself up to Meany.

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"Be quick! Put your coat on. Got to take you out of this right now, as they will be down here in less than an hour and hang you!"

I merely said to him, "Why didn't you take me to Modesto when you could have done so with safety?"

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