Si alguien alguna vez mereció el epíteto de “inútil”, fue Victor Adams. Abandonó a su esposa y cuatro hijos en Arizona y llegó al condado de Madera, donde se estableció en O’Neals. Allí, Adams se casó con una viuda con dos hijos y se dedicó a vivir a costa de su suegro, quien era el juez de paz local. Se ganó la ira de toda la comunidad una noche por su trato deplorable hacia una de sus hijastras. Ese puede que no sea el motivo por el que fue colgado, pero ciertamente ayudó.
La niñita apenas tenía seis años cuando su nuevo “papá” le ordenó que fuera a recoger algunas ovejas una tarde de verano de 1895. Cuando los animales se le escaparon, Adams se negó a permitir que la joven regresara a casa hasta que los hubiera reunido. La envió a vagar en la oscuridad, mientras él se iba a la cama.
Al día siguiente, se corrió la voz de lo que Adams había hecho, y se organizó una enorme partida de búsqueda. La joven fue encontrada en un estado miserable a lo largo del arroyo Finegold, donde había pasado la noche. La comunidad estaba furiosa y también la prensa. La noticia del abuso inconcebible de Adams se transmitió por todas partes, incluida la ciudad de Arizona donde había vivido antes de venir a California.
When his first wife read of the account, she telegraphed some interesting news to the authorities in Fresno. Adams had not only deserted her; he had not even had the decency to obtain a divorce. He was a bigamist, and she was willing to come to California to testify against him. The local citizenry was elated. Perhaps now Adams would get his just deserts.
Then he crossed the point of no return. He got into an argument with his father-in-law and killed him with a shotgun. Adams was captured within 24 hours and was being transported to jail when thirty or forty locals took charge. It wasn’t that they thought so much of the man he killed. They just hated Adams.
The crowd had begun to gather in the dark. The spluttering lights from the lanterns illuminated the hatred on the faces of the mob. By one o’clock in the morning, their numbers had grown to more than sixty, and one of them displayed a rope. There was definitely going to be a lynching in Madera County.
Meanwhile, five men mounted on horses were riding their way. In the lead was Tom Baker. Following him was Victor Adams, and behind him were three armed residents of North Fork. They had their weapons trained on Adams, who was tied in his saddle. The prisoner was being transported to Constable Bigelow at O’Neals, after which he would then be taken to the jail in Madera. He stood accused of the shotgun slaying of his father-in-law, Judge I.L. Baker. The precipitating cause of the difficulty was an argument over a horse.
When word of the killing spread through the hillsides of eastern Madera County, the fires of public indignation were fueled by the memory of the previous episode in which Adams had outraged the community by his mistreatment of his six-year-old step daughter. Now once again Victor Adams faced the hostility of his neighbors, but this time they had blood in their eyes.
About three miles from O’Neals, Tom Baker and his friends ran head-on into the lynch mob. They were informed that they were being relieved of their prisoner and told to ride on down the road. Baker and company complied without looking back.
Then the man with the rope led Victor Adams to a nearby “hanging” tree. The noose was thrown over a limb and then tightened around Adams’ neck. The killer begged for his life, but to no avail. One swat from a vigilante sent his horse running and left Adams kicking and squirming.
The next day Robert Jay, Madera County’s coroner, rode up to O’Neals to conduct an inquest. He ruled that Victor Adams had come to his death at the hands of parties unknown.
Meanwhile, the community of O’Neals continued to express its contempt for the killer. They left his body hanging from the old oak tree for two days. One Fresnan commented that Adams’ body was so conspicuous that while driving his wagon on the Finegold Road, he had to duck to keep from hitting the corpse.
As far as the locals were concerned, it was a fitting end to the scourge of the countryside. Victor Adams, a natural born scoundrel, had felt the full brunt of Madera County’s pioneer system of justice.