ON THE FRINGE 315 



the end was not yet, though we were destined before 

 long to see Big-nosed George in the flesh. Shortly 

 after the events above described, Frank Earnest, our 

 general manager, and I left Rawlins for our cattle- 

 ranch on Sand Creek, sixty miles north of the rail- 

 road. For the next two months the business of the 

 ranch, and subsequently the pleasures of a brief 

 hunting-trip under canvas on the Main Divide, 

 occupied my energies and time. 



\Ve returned to Rawlins in September, to hear 

 the satisfactory news that Big-nosed George had been 

 captured, and had been for some weeks in custody in 

 the town. 



The circuit assize was about to be held, when 

 the notorious train-robber was to be tried, and we 

 determined to stay and see something of the pro- 

 ceedings. 



Rawlins now boasts a court-house and a gaol of 

 imposing dimensions, the latter being of a strong and 

 impervious character. Some years later I was shown 

 over these buildings by a local friend with pride, as 

 part of the show places of the town and district. 

 As an illustration of the strong law-abiding and law- 

 enforcing instincts that have now been developed 

 in the west, I remember on that occasion being taken 

 round a series of iron-barred, but otherwise fairly 

 comfortable, cells in the base of the court-house 

 building. In three of these cells, adjoining one 

 another, were respectably-dressed occupants, one of 

 them being a woman. My companion took me round 

 with evident pride, and conversed affably with the 

 occupants of the cells, inviting me to do the same. 

 Naturally concluding that they were prisoners await- 

 ing trial, I carefully avoided personal or local topics. 



