At their foot a door to the left opened into a small room.

From that room another door opened into yet another room, and once entered I found myself inveigled into what many will ever henceforth regard as a private subterranean Gold Hill den, admirably adapted in proper hands to the purposes of murder, raw or disguised, for from it, with both or even one door closed, when too late, I saw that I could not be heard by Sheriff Cummings, and from it, BY VIOLENCE AND BY FORCE, I was prevented from making a peaceable exit, when I thought I saw the studious object of this "consultation" was no other than to compass my killing, in the presence of Philip Lynch as a witness, as soon as by insult a proverbially excitable man should be exasperated to the point of assailing Mr.Winters, so that Mr.Lynch, by his conscience and by his well known tenderness of heart toward the rich and potent would be compelled to testify that he saw Gen.

John B.Winters kill Conrad Wiegand in "self-defence." But I am going too fast.
OUR HOST.
Mr.Lynch was present during the most of the time (say a little short of an hour), but three times he left the room.

His testimony, therefore, would be available only as to the bulk of what transpired.

On entering this carpeted den I was invited to a seat near one corner of the room.
Mr.Lynch took a seat near the window.