The result of the search for the thieves who stole three horses in Ashland is the discovery of the horses shot dead near the upper crossing of the Klamath River. The horses were undoubtedly stolen by two men whom Mr. Reed saw lurking about his place the day before the theft was committed. The men did not cross the Klamath River, as was reported by the deputy sheriff of Siskiyou, but lay concealed on a high hill on this side, whence they could see their pursuers searching for them. The horses had been without feed one day, as was shown by their having gnawed the bark off the trees, as high as they could reach, where they were tied. Next day or night the men stole some grain from a ranch on the river and fed the animals. Then, finding that there was  no hope of escape, they shot the horses, one after another, with a pistol. The shooting was done at the edge of a precipice, whence the horses fell into thick brush below. The saddles were concealed with the horses, being partly covered with brush. A man hunting for cattle found the bodies of the horses. The villains who committed this dastardly crime are worthy of the most extreme penalty, and if they be caught they will doubtless receive it. As yet there seems to be no clue as to their whereabouts.
Ashland Tidings, October 28, 1887, page 3  Read the confession of the villains below.


    The following letter was received by the Tidings yesterday morning. It had been sent from San Francisco in a Wells, Fargo & Co. envelope addressed to the postmaster at Ashland. Inside was a wrapper endorsed: "Please hand to editor of Ashland paper." It was without doubt written by one of the thieves, or by one who had the particulars from them:
    MR. EDITOR:--Wishing to give some useful advice to officers, and glad tidings to the community in general, we wish you would please publish the following.
    Having done business in yours and adjoining counties for the last few years, and wishing to retire, we make the following statement: On Friday night, Oct. 14, 1887, we visited two stables north of the city of Ashland. The next morning there were three horses missing. We went to the summit of the mountains on the Linkville road. As we watched the road the lunkheads passed, looking for us. They were talking loud enough to be heard all over the woods about horse thieves and sheriffs. One had a rifle--as though he knew how to use it. We did not want to hurt the poor green chumps, so we turned back, took the Yreka road, passed the toll gate, and nothing of immediate import happened till we reached the Klamath, except passing the telegraph office, where it was give away. We went above the ferry a ways, turned and left the road about two hundred yards, and watched the road. About one thirty, one of them green webfeet (I suppose called an officer) came galloping along the road shouting to the ferryman at the top of his voice. I could not hear what they said when the ferryman came over. I was not quite close enough. That sharp officer went up the road to the next house and got that man to show him the ford. We supposed he was a man of some experience, judgment or sense and would see the tracks the horses made where we turned off the main road--it left tracks in the soft ground that any prudent man could see. He never looked at the ford enough to see if we had passed or not. We had left the horses for him to take, put everything out that belonged to them out by them, and our things we put by themselves, so there would be no trouble about dividing them, as we did not wish to hurt him, but wanted him to take what belonged to him and get right out. We did not thank him for coming in California, anyhow. That night, Monday the 17th, we walked to Montague and the next day we had a talk with the so-called officers with their shotgun and rifle. I asked him if it was a Winchester. He said it was. They were very talkative, said they were going up to Sisson's to watch the road. My chum wanted to slip their guns, but I got him to let them keep them by telling him they would fall down and shoot themselves if a horse went along the road that night.
    We knew they would watch the roads then and we did not want to lay in the mountains and carry feed to the horses, and to turn them loose they would get them and be looking for men on foot, and we could not tie them up and let them starve. Well we had to just kill them in that canyon on the Klamath. That stopped all trace. Then we walked quietly away and left the chumps holding the road down watching for horses that never came along. Oh yes, he said he had a good description, and there would be no mistake. We could have rode around them, as we have often done, but we did not want to hurt the gabbling geese, as they looked as though they were married; and we have all the widows we can take care of, and that was our last trip. We have made enough to retire. The gang you speak of in your paper consisted of myself and him. We know nothing of that man you caught some time ago. We are a gang ourselves, making no friends and bearing no enemies. If some of your officers will call on us at our headquarters we will give you a map of every trail and station from the Sierras to the sea.
    The saddles you will find in the gulch by one of the horses--Dead Horse Gulch. Let me warn one man if ever I catch that man out from home that owned that little no-account saddle I will give him one h--l of a licking. The Good Book says do good for evil, but I could not do a good turn to a man that would keep such a saddle as that hanging in his barn. And that Holy Book says the Lord helps them that help themselves. That is the reason thieves get along so well.
    (Some very bad rhymes of the stage robber poet style followed here, and the letter was signed:)
Ashland Tidings, October 28, 1887, page 3