In the bad times soon after the coming of the first railroad, I returned to El Paso as deputy United States marshal, and encountered many strangers, and was called to the custom house to appraise some liquor which had been smuggled by one Longmeier. Although I had nothing to do with the seizure of the liquor, Longmeier thought I had, or else he thought it no harm to kill a deputy marshal, anyhow.

That night, while sitting at supper with my back to a window which opened on the common (which window had a hanging curtain), I heard the landlord call from the outside: “Mills, get your pistol; a man is going to kill you.” The landlord, John Woods, colored (who was afterwards killed by a policeman), had found Longmeier crouched at the window, pistol in hand, trying to find an opening through the curtain, and when asked what he was doing, replied that he was going to kill the d—n deputy marshal.

Longmeier fled and went to Silver City, and was soon after killed by a man of his own class.