>>>>>>> The eastbound Butterfield Stage lumbered on down Vallecito Wash, the passengers bumping one another as they rolled on the braces. The driver sat alone on the high seat, occasionally cracking his whip. He did this merely as a matter of form, for the mules were laying into their collars even though it was slightly down grade. Sand is a great leveler of roads.
>>>>>> They passed Tres Palmas Spring before dusk and were making good time. With continued luck there would still be a chance for a little rest at Carrizo.
>>>>>> Suddenly four men on horseback appeared from behind a clump of bushes. They ordered the driver to throw up his hands; and, as there was no chance to run or fight, he did as ordered. The bandit chief, who rode a great white horse, then relieved the passengers of all their valuables while the other three held guns on the surprised passengers. With the spoils, said to have been $65,000, they wheeled and rode off rapidly toward Vallecito.
>>>>>> As they left, the driver fired at them, bringing down one of the bandits. However, when he went up to find him he discovered two dead men; and, as he had fired only one shot, he came to the conclusion that the leader had deliberately killed one of his own men so the loot would not have to be split so many ways. This surmise turned out to be correct.
>>>>>> The leader of this gang was named O’Hara, and it was he who rode the white horse. The other rider was a man whom O’Hara called his brother, being probably more a brother in crime than a blood relation, for the two did not resemble each other in the least.
>>>>>> They went to Vallecito but, before reaching the station, buried their loot-where, no one knows and probably never will. At the station the two had several drinks of whiskey, and as they continued to drink they became quarrelsome. Seemingly content with keeping it a personal quarrel, they did not molest the station keeper or his wife. Finally, the loud-mouthed foul names and insinuations passed the bounds of control. O’Hara called his brother a mangy coward; and the brother replied that O’Hara had taken a pot-shot at him as well.
>>>>>> O’Hara apparently did not care to shoot it out in a fair fight and said: >>>>>> “You can think up all the damn lies you want to, but I’ve got to go out and take care of my horse, and when I come back we’ll argue this whole thing out!”
>>>>>> He came back-but he came on horseback. He rode the big white horse up to the adobe stage station, kicked in the door and took a shot at his brother, hitting him in the chest. As he wheeled his horse to go, the mortally wounded brother pulled his gun-even as he was falling-and shot O’Hara back of the right ear.
>>>>>> So, as matters stood, there were a robbed stagecoach, four dead bandits, a buried treasure, and a loose white horse.
>>>>>> It is said that if one is in the valley around midnight, and in the vicinity of the spot where the treasure was buried, the ghost of a great white horse will appear suddenly from nowhere. It comes galloping across the sands and, as it approaches evaporates into a misty cloud, bringing with it a gust of cool air.
>>>>>> Once the ghost has appeared, it is futile to search for the treasure; for the disturbance of its passing smoothes away all traces of the cache. It is also futile to search without the apparition; or it is only when one is near the treasure that the horse comes roaring out of Nowhere.
