y, and six on a pinch. When the down stage reached
Traverse des Sioux, on the morning of the 11th of July, it was full;
that is, there were five inside, three on the back seat, and two on the
front, and one man on the seat with the driver. I insisted strenuously
on going, and said I would ride in the boot rather than not go at all,
my insistence, of course, having reference to my desire to be at the
opening of the convention. I was admitted, and took my place on the
front seat, with my back to the driver, and my knees interlocked with
those of the passenger on the back seat who faced me. At this time I had
heard nothing of what had happened at the fort. The fact was that the
two men who had been placed in charge of the money had opened one of the
boxes of gold, taken out a bag containing $5,000 in quarter eagles, and
sealed it up again. When the superintendent sent down for his money, and
it was loaded into the wagon, the two soldiers immediately deserted,
which, of course, excited the suspicions of the officers. A courier was
at once dispatched to the agency to see if the money was all right, and
the theft was soon discovered. The superintendent, who was then Major
Cullen, had handbills struck off, giving the description of the
deserters, and offering $600 for their capture and the return of the
money. Couriers were dispatched in all directions to effect their
arrest, and one of the handbills reached Henderson, which was the county
seat of Sibley county, some twenty miles down the river from the point
at which I took the stage. A deputy sheriff of that county had started
out to hunt the thieves and secure the reward, carrying one of the
handbills with him, and had proceeded up the river as far as Le Sueur,
about half way between Traverse des Sioux and Henderson.

It is well to state here that the stages carried the mails, and always
stopped at the post towns long enough to deliver the incoming and
receive the outgoing mails, which afforded time for a bit of gossip, a
drink, and a stretch of the legs. There were two postoffices in Le
Sueur, in upper town and lower town, about a mile and a half apart. As
soon as the stage stopped at upper town, the deputy sheriff handed me
the handbill through the window, announcing the theft and describing the
thieves. I read it right in the face of my vis-a-vis, and after
congratulating myself that I had no responsibility for the lost money, I
remarked to the sheriff: "Of course, you do