A heavy fog came up about five o'clock p. m., and it was near dark at that hour. Meany opened the door and ordered me, in a quick, sharp, rough voice, to put on my coat, which I had taken off in order the more easily to slip through the hands of the mob in case they broke in the lock-up to take me out. Said Meany:
"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?"
That question was a poser to him, and he made some inarticulate reply. I put on my coat, and accompanied by Meany and Deputy Sheriff Breen, one carrying a double-barreled shot-gun, the other a repeating rifle, started towards the new court house, which lies just at the edge of town. Upon reaching the south-west corner of the enclosure surrounding the building, I perceived a thorough-brace awaiting us. John Hathaway had the lines, and I was handcuffed and put in the carriage with Deputy Breen, and Meany told Breen to go as far as the Half-Way House and there stop. After giving this order, he started back to town. I then saw through the whole arrangement. He had put me into the hands of a deputy, and as he confidently expected the mob would hang me, he would be free from blame, and could say, "Granice was not in my hands, but in the hands of a deputy."
During all this time I said nothing although I thought a great deal. Hathaway drove, according to Meany's orders, toward the Half-Way House. It struck me, as well as the deputy sheriff and also Hathaway (as I afterwards learned from their conversation), that the mob was lying in wait at the bridge, at the crossing of Bear Creek. I kept a sharp look-out ahead, and in a few minutes the Bear Creek bridge loomed up through the fog, about one hundred yards ahead. I kept a steady eye on the structure as we drew near, expecting every second to see the forms of the devils.
At last the bridge was reached and crossed, and that which I most dreaded and feared – the crossing of Bear Creek bridge – was passed in safety. While crossing the bridge, I looked behind and perceived eight men about one hundred yards behind, on foot, approaching the bridge.
The programme was not laid down quite right. They were about one minute behind time, thanks to John Hathaway's rapid driving, who, of course, together with the deputy sheriff, knew nothing of the little arrangement to get me on the road. But they strongly suspected, as I learned from a word that I caught from their whispered conversation. After crossing the bridge, Hathaway whipped up his horses, and we started off at a rapid pace for the Half-Way House. I heard Deputy Sheriff Breen remark to Hathaway:
"John, its strange Meany didn't tell us to keep right on to Modesto, instead of stopping so near town. But I have got to follow instructions. If the mob comes, I'll turn Harry loose, d – d if I don't, if there is no other recourse."
I then spoke up and said: "Well, Mr. Breen, if you do, and I am alive, you will find me in the Modesto jail inside of a week."
He then remarked: "Oh, they may not come."
The above remark was the only one I passed from the time of leaving the lock-up till I arrived at the Half-Way House, as I was deeply engaged in thought, trying to arrive at some plan to outwit the mob, whom I felt certain would be on my tracks ere long, if they were not so already. It was half-past seven or eight o'clock when we arrived at the Half-Way House, six miles north of Merced. I was led into the house, securely handcuffed. The horses were taken out of their traces; then supper was ordered. We sat down to the table and eat our supper. After finishing my repast, I was conducted to a room and put to bed with the hand-cuffs on. I had no sooner laid down when I was agreeably surprised to see my brother George step into the room – a young man about twenty years of age, and brave as a lion. Like a sleuth-hound he had scented me out. It was then between eight and nine o'clock. In presence of Hathaway, Breen and the host, we held a hurried conversation. George was armed and on horseback, but his horse was completely fagged out. He said:
"I will ride to town, and if met by the mob on the road, I will put spurs to my horse and give the officer an alarm."
I tried to dissuade him from running any risk, but he would not listen to me. He said:
"I will ride towards town; if I reach there without encountering the mob I will get a fresh horse and stand guard at the bridge."
He then left. I afterward learned that he reached town with his horse completely broken down, and applied to all their livery stables for another, but was told that they were all engaged (doubtless to the mob).
After my brother's departure, the deputy sheriff removed one of the hand-cuffs from my wrist, fastened it on his own, and got in bed with me, Hathaway and Powell, the proprietors of the house, standing guard. Shortly after Breen retired I dropped off asleep. I had slept for some time when I heard Hathaway call to Breen in an undertone:
"Wake up, Nick, they are coming!"
I immediately awoke my sleeping bed-fellow, who, jumping up, listened for a moment. Breen stopped to listen again, when Hathaway exclaimed, "For God's sake, Nick, hurry up; they are right here!" Hathaway was white as a sheet, and held a double-barreled shot-gun in his hands in a determined manner, while Breen hastily picked up his pants from the floor, took out the key of the hand-cuffs, and taking me by my extended wrist, loosened it (it seemed an age, while he was feeling in his pocket for the key). At this instant I heard the fiends for the first time. They were then about one hundred yards from the house. I hurriedly put on my pants, shoes and vest, and catching up my coat, I made a hasty exit out of the back door. As I did so, a terrible shout went up from the throats of the mob, which sounded like the yells of devils from the lower regions, and I thought they had discovered me as I passed out of the door. As soon as I reached the open air I got down on my hands and knees and crawled very softly about fifty yards from the house, when I stopped and put my ear to the ground to see if they were yet on my track. The fog was very thick; one could not see three yards ahead. I listened for a second; then taking off my shoes to prevent making a noise, and putting on my coat, I crawled about one thousand yards. I then stopped to think what was best for me to do to outwit those seeking my life. I argued to myself that it was best to tack back toward Merced, as the mob would be apt to pursue me northward and eastward that night. They would imagine, so I thought, that I would flee before them and strike for the Merced river; so I concluded to go where they would least expect to find me. I would return and strike Bear Creek, which has very high banks and a narrow channel, but which at that time contained no water. If I could reach the creek (which was some seven miles off) before day-break, I knew I would be safe for one day, at least, provided I was very cautious. With this resolution formed, I listened for a few seconds, and hearing nothing, I started to make a semi-circle of the Half-Way House in order to get on the other side of it. By a bright light which the fog magnified to at least ten times its size, which kept moving to and fro in and around the Half Way-House, which was either a torch or a lantern, I knew that the blood-thirsty crew were searching under the porch and in the out-houses for me. I had not proceeded a quarter of a mile after taking my resolve to get between the mob and Merced, when I came to the road leading from the above houses to Cox's Ferry. I stopped and listened for a second and peered through the fog, which was growing denser and more dense as the night advanced, but could discern nothing but the bright light before mentioned, which I was utilizing as a guide to travel by. I then crossed the road; I had no sooner done so than I discovered two horsemen going toward Snelling. I fell flat on my face, scarcely daring to breathe, and they passed on without discovering me. While lying down I watched them attentively to see if they suspected their close proximity to me, as they were riding at that moment very slow, and were apparently on the alert for any sound which might possibly reach their ears. I saw several more horsemen, but luckily they did not see me before I had accomplished the semi-circle around the Half-Way House; but after accomplishing that manœuvre, I saw no one again that night, as I kept away from the roads, and was not under the necessity of crossing any more. When about four miles from Merced, I altered my course slightly with the intention of striking Bear Creek; about one or two miles below town; but losing my reckoning, I reached the creek about five hundred yards from the bridge.