Never was fugitive more assiduously and desperately hunted than he.  Domiciliary visits, the intrusion of the Vigilance police into the homes of citizens, of every house and room in which it was suspected McGowan would be caught.  Every friend of his was shadowed to get a clew to his place of concealment.  Yet he was for weeks securely hidden within five miles of the city.  Thence he made his escape to Santa Barbara, through the aid of true and sagacious friends; was sheltered and protected there by another — Jack Powers, one of the Stevenson’s regiment, a fearless, dare-devil, desperate, wily man, accustomed to wild adventures, and hair-breadth escapes, whose own many exploits, including pursuit and search, will some day find publication, to rival the most interesting and exciting narratives of frontier life, and the daring and heroism of the men bred to such life.  Jack Powers had on several occasions escaped the capture and death his Mexican pursuers had deemed inevitable.  His ingenuity now came to do service on behalf of his friend McGowan.  Chief of Police Curtis had got word that McGowan was in Santa Barbara.  He was a zealous, Vigilance man.  A schooner was chartered, and a strong, armed force sailed on her for Santa Barbara, to capture the fugitive.  They landed, searched everywhere, particularly the house, premises and surroundings of Jack Powers’ residence.  Powers and McGowan both well knew that catching meant hanging beyond all hope.  After a thorough quest Curtis and his armed band gave up the hunt and returned to San Francisco.  At Powers’ home they had searched every place except that in which McGowan was concealed.  They had been within a toot of him; had nearly stepped on him; were so close that he heard their whisperings and cursings.  But they never suspected his hiding place.  He was simply rolled in a great mass of old floor matting, at one side of the house, which was covered with dust and leaves, and bits of straw, to give it the appearance of having been there, just as it seemed, for months.  After the schooner sailed, McGowan succeeded in making his way out of the State and safe from the Vigilance Committee by the cunning and adroitness of his good friend Jack Powers.  The Committee were foiled in their endeavor to capture the man, of all others, they were the most eager to catch and hang.  There would have been short invoking of trial in his case and a hurried death by the rope.  McGowan lives to relate his adventures and enjoy the narrative.

To give some idea of the manner of procedure and the discipline of the Committee, I will relate an experience of my own:  One beautiful moonlight evening I was visiting the family of a prominent member of the San Francisco Bar.  About nine o’clock the door bell was rung.  Thinking that some friend of the family was at the door, the mistress of the house went herself to see who was there.  In the doorway stood a strange man.  He asked — mentioning my name — if I was in.  She called