A terrible Struggle for Life or Death upon the Transfer-boat "Illinois."—"Overboard!"—One less Desperado.—The Fourth and Last Robber taken.
A terrible Struggle for Life or Death upon the Transfer-boat "Illinois."—"Overboard!"—One less Desperado.—The Fourth and Last Robber taken.
After Barton had made his confession to William in St. Louis, the prisoners, Hillary Farrington and Barton, were kept separate, as the latter was afraid that Hillary would find some means of killing him. About midnight of Thursday, December fourteenth, they all took passage by railroad for Cairo, and there they immediately went on board the large transfer-boat to Columbus, Kentucky. All the detectives were thoroughly worn out from excitement and loss of sleep, but they did not for an instant relax their vigilant watch upon their prisoners. William had been talking for some time with Hillary, trying to obtain a confession and to learn what had been done with the money secured at the two robberies. From the questions that William asked, Hillary soon learned, or surmised, that Barton had confessed. He was terribly enragedat this, and without doubt he would have killed Barton if he could have got at him; but being unable to do so, his fury was all turned upon his captors.
My son hoped by threatening to have Mrs. Farrington arrested and imprisoned, to induce Hillary to give up his share of the plunder rather than have his mother punished. This threat seemed to infuriate him beyond anything, and he swore that he would have his revenge on William if he had to wait twenty years for it. After sitting sullenly thinking on the subject for a time, he said he was cold, and wanted to get a drink. William therefore offered to go with him into the bar-room, and they walked toward the forward end of the saloon, leaving Galway and Barton seated together. Connell had gone into the water-closet a few moments before, but, as there was a detective with each of the prisoners, no attempt at escape was anticipated.
The steamer was the powerfully-built transfer-boat "Illinois," and she was running with great speed, her ponderous wheels revolving at an unusually rapid rate. The bar-room was situated just forward of the saloon, after passing through the barber shop, and it could be entered from the saloon or through a door leading upon the guards, just forward of the paddle-box.
As they were about to enter the barber shop from the saloon, Hillary drew back, saying that he did not want to go that way, as there were some men in that room whom he knew. Theytherefore went out upon the guards to walk along to the outer door of the bar-room. The space was narrow, and the rail quite low, so that it would not have been at all difficult for a man to spring overboard, even though he were in irons. This idea occurred to William, but he did not trouble himself about it, since he knew that the heavy strokes of the paddle-wheel would instantly kill any one who might attempt such a thing. William wore a loose-fitting sack coat with large pockets, in one of which he carried a heavy army revolver, which he had taken from Hillary, his own revolver being in his belt. In walking it was his habit to put his hand on the butt of this army revolver, which protruded somewhat from the pocket. On reaching the door, however, he took his right hand from the pistol to turn the knob. This was a careless action, of which he never would have been guilty, had he been less fatigued, mentally and physically, but, being so used up as to act almost mechanically, his habitual thoughtfulness was momentarily absent, and he was caught off his guard for an instant in a manner which nearly cost him his life. It should be understood that the scene which ensued occurred so rapidly as to occupy less time in its passage than is required to read about it, and that during those few seconds a struggle of life and death was going on.
Hardly had William's hand touched the doorknob ere he felt the pistol drawn out of his coat pocket. He knew there was but one person whocould have done it, and that person was a perfect devil thirsting for his blood. Turning like a flash, he seized Farrington by both wrists, just as the latter was trying to cock the pistol; then there was a terrible contest. The pistol was in Farrington's hands, which were held so close together by the irons as to make it impossible to wrench one away from the other; it was pointed directly at William's head, and should Farrington succeed in cocking it, William's death would be instantaneous. All his energies, therefore, were directed toward keeping Farrington's hands far enough apart to prevent him from drawing back the hammer. The space was too narrow to permit of such a struggle without one party or the other being forced back upon the rail, and, in a moment, William had lifted his lighter antagonist from the deck, pressing him against the railing, and at the same time shouting for assistance. In response to his call, Connell came running out indishabille, with his pistol in one hand and his pantaloons in the other. At this moment the cold muzzle of the pistol was pressed against William's temple, and he heard the click of the hammer as his desperate prisoner succeeded in drawing it back. He made a violent plunge forward, ducking his head as he did so, and simultaneously the pistol exploded close to his ear, the ball ploughing a little furrow in the scalp, while the powder scorched his neck and hair. Staggering back stunned and dizzy for a moment, he was caught by Connell, who asked whether he wasmuch hurt. He soon gathered his senses, and, finding his wound to be only trifling, he asked what had become of Farrington. Connell pointed overboard, and no further answer was necessary; no man dropping in front of those wheels could have lived for an instant, and, even had he not been struck, he could not have kept himself up in the rapid current then running filled with fine ice.
By this time the bar-room, barber shop, and saloon had been emptied of their occupants, and the boat had been stopped to see whether the man could be picked up; but, as this was clearly hopeless, the trip was soon resumed. Connell's arrival had been most opportune for William, since he had caught the weapon the moment it was discharged, and succeeded in changing the course of the bullet sufficiently to save William's life. Thinking, however, that William had been killed, Connell had struck Farrington on the head with his pistol almost simultaneously with the explosion, and the blow, aided by the plunge which William made forward in endeavoring to dodge the pistol-shot, had sent Farrington over the rail into the water, where he was undoubtedly killed the next instant by the paddle-wheels.
The fact of the man's death was so absolutely certain that no person could doubt it, if acquainted with the circumstances; yet there were not wanting people who insinuated that he had been allowed to escape by jumping overboard and swimming ashore. The absurdity of such a story is manifest, for, even supposing that his irons hadbeen removed, and that he had escaped injury from the paddle-wheels, he never could have swam ashore at the spot where the affair occurred. The nearest point of the river bank was more than three hundred yards away, and the current at that place was running off the shore; besides, the night was very cold, and the water was covered with a film of ice, so that after five minutes' immersion in it, a man would have become wholly numbed and insensible.
Barton was not at all surprised when he heard of Hillary Farrington's death, for he said that he knew Hillary so well that he had expected nothing else from the time he was taken; he was so desperate that his intention undoubtedly had been to have seized William and dragged him overboard; but, seeing the pistol, another idea had probably occurred to him. Barton said that had Hillary succeeded in killing William, he would have gone up to the pilot-house with the revolver, and forced the pilot to land him immediately; once on shore, his knowledge of the country would have enabled him to escape again. Whatever had been his plans, however, he had failed in his attempt at murder, and had paid the penalty of his rashness with his life.
The rest of the party went on to Columbus, where they took passage for Union City, arriving there Friday morning.
About this time, Mr. Ball, who had been sent to follow the wagon train of Mrs. Farrington, reported, after a silence of several days, that he hadtraced her into the Indian Territory. In point of fact, she was settled at Ash Grove, near Mount Vernon, in Greene County, Missouri, and had been there ever since Hillary and Barton had left her before their arrest at Durham's. It will thus be seen how fortunate it was that I had not trusted to Ball and Bledsoe to keep track of Mrs. Farrington, since they had utterly lost the trail, and had followed another set of wagons for several days as far as the Indian Territory; when, probably suspecting that he had made a mistake, Ball telegraphed to the express company's officers for instructions. He was then ordered to return at once with Bledsoe, the whole party having been captured by that time.
While speaking of Mrs. Farrington, I may as well give an account of all our dealings with her, irrespective of the chronological order of the story:
Having received Barton's order upon her for all of the wagons and stock, and for five hundred and fifty dollars in money, Cottrell endeavored to attach her property in a civil suit. She insisted that she had none of Barton's money—indeed, that she had no money at all—and she refused to give up anything. At last, finding that he could not legally attach her property, Cottrell took the bold step of arresting her for receiving stolen goods. She was taken to Mount Vernon, where she engaged a lawyer to defend her, and then, of course, Cottrell was also obliged to employ a legal adviser. At length, a compromise was effected,by which Mrs. Farrington was allowed to retain a small portion of the property; Cottrell then took possession of the remainder as agent of the express company, and Mrs. Farrington was discharged from custody. After selling some of the animals, Cottrell shipped all the remaining chattels to St. Louis, where the agent of the express company took charge of them. The two detectives then returned to Chicago, and no further attention was paid to Mrs. Farrington.
On Saturday, after the arrival of William's party, with Barton, in Union City, Detectives Galway and Connell started out to arrest Bill Taylor, the fourth one of the party of robbers.
This man was a long, lank, round-shouldered fellow, with putty face, long, straggling hair and beard, and a vacant expression of countenance, who lived by hunting and chopping wood, below Lester's Landing, in the vicinity of Reel's Foot Lake. William had been satisfied of his complicity in the robbery for some time previous to the arrest of the others, but he had not arrested him for the reason that he was sure of picking him up whenever he wished to do so; and, knowing Taylor to have been merely a weak accomplice, he was anxious to secure the leaders in the crime first. Barton's confession made the suspicion of Taylor's guilt a certainty, and so Galway and Connell were sent to arrest him.
At Mr. Merrick's they obtained a good guide, and four other citizens joined them, so that they had quite a formidable party. After visiting several houses in the cane-brake, they learned where Taylor was staying, and, on going there, they saw him looking at them from a front window. Galway asked Taylor to come down a few minutes to give them some information, and Taylor unsuspectingly complied. He had been allowed to go free so long, and had so often talked with William and others about the robbery, that he did not imagine their object on this occasion. On coming into the yard, therefore, he greeted the men cordially, supposing them to be a party scouting for the other robbers, of whose arrest he had not heard. When he saw a couple of navy revolvers close to his head, and heard an order to throw up his hands, he surrendered without a word. He was evidently badly frightened, but he would not confess having had any part in the robbery, and he refused to tell where his share of the money was concealed. He was placed on Connell's horse and taken to Merrick's, where another horse was obtained, and the party went on to Hickman; thence he was taken by wagon to Union City, arriving there about midnight of Saturday. Both Barton and Taylor were placed in rooms in the hotel, where they were carefully watched night and day by my detectives, the county jail being almost useless as a place for keeping prisoners.
On learning that the whole party had been arrested, Taylor made a very full confession of all the circumstances connected with the robbery, and the movements of the robbers after it hadoccurred. He confirmed Barton's account in every particular, but revealed nothing new of any importance. His share of the stolen money had been only about one hundred and fifty dollars, as Levi had made him believe that they had obtained only six hundred dollars in all. About fifty dollars were found on Taylor's person; the rest he had spent. He said that Levi Farrington had hidden all the checks, drafts, and unnegotiable paper underneath an old log in the woods, but that he could not tell where the log was, nor find it, since it was not marked in any way, nor had they taken any bearings by which to remember it. He gave an account of the evening when Hicks, the tipsy planter, came to their camp-fire, which agreed exactly with the previous statements of Hicks and Barton; but one slight remark in his confession seemed to account for the fifth man mentioned by Hicks. Taylor said that during most of the time Hicks was at their camp, one or two of the party were lying on the ground with their feet toward the fire, and that there was a log of wood lying beside them. Now, it is probable that Hicks was just drunk enough to be unable to tell the difference between a man and a log, especially as, in his description of the men, he gave the appearance of Hillary Farrington twice as belonging to different persons. Hicks's vision was somewhat uncertain that night, evidently.
The last Scene in the Drama approaching.—A new Character appears.—The Citizens of Union City suddenly seem to have important business on hand.—The Vigilantes and their Work.—Their Bullets and Judge Lynch administer a quietus to Levi Farrington and David Towler.—The End.
The last Scene in the Drama approaching.—A new Character appears.—The Citizens of Union City suddenly seem to have important business on hand.—The Vigilantes and their Work.—Their Bullets and Judge Lynch administer a quietus to Levi Farrington and David Towler.—The End.
The last scene in this drama seemed about to end in the complete defeat of the whole gang of villains and the triumph of law and justice, when a new character came upon the stage, and the curtain fell upon a bloody tragedy. That substantial justice was done cannot be denied, though the manner of its execution was beyond and outside all forms of law. It was a striking instance of the manner in which an outraged community, particularly in the West and South, will arrive at a satisfactory settlement of important questions without the intervention of courts, juries, or lawyers. The court of Judge Lynch makes mistakes occasionally, but it rarely admits of an appeal from its decision.
Robert arrived in Union City with Levi Farrington on Monday, December eighteenth, and he took his prisoner to the hotel for safe keeping, with the others. They were kept in separate rooms, and a detective remained with each of them constantly. William spent several hours with Levi Farrington, trying to induce him totell where he had hidden the stolen papers, and also what he had done with his share of the money, of which he had undoubtedly retained the greater part. Finally he agreed to return all the papers, and about twenty-five hundred dollars besides, on condition that he should receive a sentence of only five years in the penitentiary on entering a plea of guilty. Having agreed to this arrangement, William went to his room, which was a large one, with several beds, occupied by Robert, Brown, and Connell. As the men of my force were all pretty well used up, Taylor and Barton were placed in the same room, with Galway guarding them, while Farrington, being such a desperate fellow, was put in another room, with three of the Union City policemen as guards.
Soon after the arrival of Robert with Levi Farrington, a man, named David Towler, tried to get admission to Farrington's room. On being denied, he was very insolent, and he insisted on seeing Farrington alone. Finding that this would not be permitted, he went away cursing the officers and swearing to be revenged. His actions naturally attracted the attention of the police, and caused him to be regarded with a great deal of suspicion, as a probable member of the Farrington party of robbers. About eleven o'clock that night, a policeman, named Benjamin Kline, discovered this man Towler with a drawn revolver, skulking behind a car standing on the side track near the dépôt. He immediately called forthe railroad company's night watchman, and the two approached the thief to arrest him. The man instantly shot Kline through the lungs, and then shot Moran, the watchman. Kline's wound was mortal, and he died in a few minutes, while Moran was supposed to be fatally hurt also. The pistol-shots quickly drew a crowd, and a few determined men gave chase to the murderer. After quite a long pursuit he was captured, and brought back to the station where Kline had just died. A justice of the peace held a preliminary examination at once, and the prisoner, David Towler, was held for murder, without bail. He was known to be a low, desperate fellow, who had been imprisoned for horse-stealing and other kindred crimes, until he was regarded almost as an outlaw. He had long lived near Reel's Foot Lake, and while there he had become acquainted with the Farringtons. That their friendship was more than that of two casual acquaintances was shown by an important circumstance discovered by William. It will be remembered that when Levi Farrington stopped in Cairo to send eight hundred dollars to his mother, he purchased two of the largest-sized Smith & Wesson revolvers. They were exact fac-similes of each other, and were numbered 1,278 and 1,279 respectively. At the time of Levi's arrest, only one of these revolvers was found, and he said that he had given away the other to a friend, retaining number 1,279 himself. When Towler was captured, William happened to notice that his revolver wassimilar to the one Levi had carried. This would have been nothing to be remarked under ordinary circumstances, since there were, undoubtedly, many of these revolvers in use, all exactly alike except in number; but William connected this man Towler's appearance in Union City with the arrival of the express robbers, and the new revolver caught his eye at once. On closely examining it, his suspicions were fully confirmed:it was numbered1,278, and was, without question, the mate to Levi's, bought by him in Cairo and given to Towler.
When this news became known to the throng of citizens whom the shooting of Kline and Moran had drawn together, the feeling against all the prisoners became intense, and when Towler was committed by the justice to the guard of the men who were watching Levi, the citizens began to depart very suddenly, as if they either had important business elsewhere, or were in a hurry to get home. By midnight the town was quiet, and after a visit to the guards, to caution them to be extra vigilant, William and Robert retired to their room, together with Brown and Connell.
Young Kline, whom Towler had murdered, was very highly esteemed in Union City, and his death at the hands of an outlaw would have aroused deep indignation at any time; but just now there were additional reasons why the affair should excite a desire for summary vengeance upon his assassin. It had been shown that Towler must have formerly been on intimate terms with theFarringtons, and these latter were well known as desperadoes, whose hand was turned against every man; hence, the crimes of the whole party were considered as a sort of partnership affair, for which each member of the firm was individually liable. But, besides the natural indignation of the law-abiding citizens for the crimes committed by these men, there was a widespread sense of insecurity so long as they were in that vicinity. Towler had remarked, when captured, that he would soon be out again, and all the prisoners bore themselves with an air of bravado, as if they had no fear nor expectation of punishment. It was believed that a number of friends of the gang among the desperadoes living in Nigger-Wool Swamp and near Reel's Foot Lake intended to attempt the rescue of the whole party of express robbers, before they could be consigned to a secure place of confinement. The citizens who had risked their lives to capture Towler and the others, who had turned out in time to see poor Kline die in agony, were determined that nothing should occur to prevent justice from reaching the criminals, and exacting the fullest penalty for their numerous crimes; hence the sudden departure of the throng who had attended Towler's preliminary examination before the justice. They did not go to their homes, but gathered in a secluded place, and formed a Committee of Safety. The question as to what course would best protect the lives and property of the community was then discussed, and a conclusion was soon reached, without a dissenting voice.
Throughout the town all was hushed in the usual stillness of a winter's night; no lights were burning anywhere, save in an occasional sick-chamber, and sleep seemed to have fallen alike upon the just and unjust. In one room of the hotel were Barton and Taylor, guarded by Galway and an employé of the express company, while near by was the room where Levi Farrington and David Towler were watched by three of the city policemen. A dim light burned in each room, and, while the guards paced the floor in their stocking feet, the prisoners lay on their beds in deep slumber. Not a memory of the past, full as it was of scenes of crime and blood, came to break their repose; not a thought of the future, with its possibilities of punishment, caused them to lose one moment of their customary rest. Fear they had never known; remorse was long since forgotten; unconscious or careless of their impending doom, they slept the night away.
About two o'clock there was a stealthy gathering of masked men at the door of the hotel, and, at a given signal from the leader, a certain number slipped upstairs with little noise, and filled the corridor from which the prisoners' rooms opened. So sudden was their appearance and so quiet their approach that even the wakeful guards scarce heard them until the doors were forced open. Then the policy of silence was dropped, and a rush upon the guards was made. A battery of pistols suddenly confronted them, and, as resistance was clearly impossible, an unconditionalsurrender was at once made. The bursting in of the doors awakened William and Robert, who hastily sprang up, and, without stopping to put on any clothing, opened their door, pistol in hand. This move, however, had been anticipated by the vigilantes, and a dozen or more pistols were thrust in their faces as they appeared in the doorway.
"Go back, Pinkerton, we don't want to hurt you," said one of the men outside, and they were pushed back into the room, while the door was hastily closed in their faces.
To resist such a body with the few men at his command, William knew, would be suicidal, and he did not especially care to sacrifice himself in the interest of such a villainous band as those whom the vigilantes were seeking. The four detectives, therefore, dressed themselves and remained in their room awaiting further developments.
Having overpowered the guards, the leader of the vigilantes ordered the removal of Towler, and, as the latter was hustled out of the door, Levi Farrington knew that his hour had come. Standing up and facing the remainder of the crowd, who had withdrawn to the further side of the room, he defied them all, and told them to fire away. A volley of pistol-shots was the reply to his words, and a rattling fire continued for two or three minutes; when it ceased, Levi Farrington was no more, his body having been struck by more than thirty balls, almost any one of which would have been instantaneously fatal. Hisbody was left where it fell, and the room was soon deserted as the party hastened after the detachment which had Towler in charge. The whole affair was over in ten minutes, and when the detectives again left their room none of the masked party were to be seen. Levi Farrington's body was found in his room, but no trace of Towler could be discovered. Finding that the excitement was over, the detectives returned to bed, leaving Barton and Taylor still carefully guarded. The former had slept through the confusion and noise without even a start or restless movement, but Taylor was terribly frightened, and he fully expected to be lynched also.
"The work of the Vigilante's."—Page—"The work of the Vigilante's."—Page—
The next morning at breakfast, William was informed that the body of Towler had been found hanging to a tree near the graveyard, and, on going to the spot, they found him as represented. At the coroner's inquest little testimony could be obtained further than that one man had been shot to death and the other hung by parties unknown, and the verdict was rendered accordingly. There was naturally considerable excitement over the affair for two or three days, but the general verdict was, "Served 'em right." However violent had been their taking off, there were few who did not feel that society demanded their death, not only as a punishment for their past crimes, but as a means of security in the future. Believing that a sentence to the penitentiary was wholly inadequate, and that their escape therefrom was not only possible, but probable, the citizens preferred to take no risks of future robberies and murders by these desperadoes, and they therefore took the most effectual method of preventing their occurrence. Their action was illegal, it is true, but then it was just—which is a more important consideration sometimes.
On the following Friday, Barton and Taylor had their preliminary hearing before a justice, when they waived examination, and were committed for trial in default of bail in the sum of ten thousand dollars each. Upon the representation to the justice that the county jail was an unsafe place to confine the prisoners, permission was obtained to remove them to the jail in Memphis; the proper papers were made out, and the transfer was made under William's management.
The death of Levi Farrington made the recovery of the missing checks, papers, and money an impossibility, since neither Barton nor Taylor were able to conduct the officers to the place where they were hidden. Barton gave the company a bill of sale of the goods in the store at Lester's Landing, however, and an assignment of all debts due the firm, from which about five or six hundred dollars were eventually realized. Robert and Brown attended to this matter and returned to Chicago. William was on duty until the two remaining prisoners were safely lodged in jail in Memphis, and then, having settled up all the business of which he had had charge, he also returned home.
At the next term of court in Obion County,Tennessee, Barton and Taylor pleaded guilty of grand larceny, and were each sentenced to five years' confinement at hard labor in the penitentiary. Thus, out of a party of four engaged in this robbery, two were finally brought to trial and appropriately punished, while the other two would have been so punished also, had not a higher penalty been demanded by the circumstances of their cases, aggravated by their own brutal and revengeful dispositions. No reminiscence in my experience shows a more striking illustration of the certainty of retribution for crime than does the career and fate of these outlaws of the Southwest.
A Fraudulent Scheme contemplated.—A Dashing Peruvian Don and Donna.—A Regal Forger.—Mr. Pinkerton engaged by Senator Muirhead to unveil the Mystery of his Life.—The Don and Donna Morito arrive at Gloster.—"Personnel" of Gloster's "First Families."
A Fraudulent Scheme contemplated.—A Dashing Peruvian Don and Donna.—A Regal Forger.—Mr. Pinkerton engaged by Senator Muirhead to unveil the Mystery of his Life.—The Don and Donna Morito arrive at Gloster.—"Personnel" of Gloster's "First Families."
The history of crimes against prosperity is of vital interest to the public. The ingenuity of thieves, burglars, forgers, and confidence men is active and incessant, so that their plans are often successful even against the experience and precautions of men of the most wary and cautious character. This seems to be especially true when the amounts at stake are large, for petty attempts to defraud are so frequent, that when a criminal plays for a large sum, the suspicion of the capitalist is wholly allayed by the improbability that a mere swindler should undertake an operation of such magnitude. Indeed, in many cases the cupidity of the victim is so great that the sharper hardly offers the bait ere it is swallowed by some confiding simpleton. Hence, as a warning for the future, the lessons of past frauds possess no small degree of interest and value to the world;and as there is no portion of society free from the depredations of these schemers, their various wiles and snares cannot be exposed too often.
More than twenty years ago, the city of Gloster was one of the most thriving cities of the West. Controlling the interior trade to a large extent, its interests were of the most varied character, and its inhabitants were already distinguished as being more cosmopolitan than those of any other city in the Union, except New York. They had imbibed, perhaps, some of the genius of the prairies, and their scorn of petty methods of doing business, their breadth of charity and hearty hospitality, were as boundless as the great plains of which the city was the business center at that time. Among such a people, a plausible adventurer had a fine field of operation, and I was not surprised when I was asked to go to Gloster in the latter part of the winter to investigate the character of some persons who were living there.
The application came from Senator Muirhead, a man whom I had long known, both in his public and private life. His suspicions were of the vaguest possible character, and a hasty examination of the case failed to convince me that they were well founded; yet he was convinced in his own mind that there was a fraudulent scheme in contemplation, and his positive conviction had great weight with me. The Senator's interest in the case had led him to make extensive inquiries into the antecedents of these parties, but he wasunable to trace them further back than their arrival in New York, several months before. There they had suddenly appeared in society with a great display of wealth, stating that they had been traveling in Europe for some time, and were gradually making their way back to Peru, where they lived. Don Pedro P. L. de Morito and his wife, having enjoyed life in New York for several months, now proposed to spend at least a year in Gloster, and it was this couple whose character was suspected by the Senator. Indeed, he felt sure that, at least, they were traveling under assumed names, and certain coincidences led him to believe that they were adroit swindlers of the most capable, dangerous type. He had discovered a chain of circumstantial evidence which needed only one link to make a clear connection between certain crimes and these fascinating Peruvians, and it was for the purpose of discovering this link that he had requested my aid. In brief, his suspicions were, that after innumerable frauds in other countries, this plausible pair had settled in Gloster to add to their ill-gotten wealth by some new scheme of villainy. His theoretic history of the man, derived from various sources, mainly newspapers in which crimes had been described bearing the same style of workmanship, was as follows.
José Gomez, a cadet of the ancient Brazilian family of that name, began life with a fine physique, ample mental endowments, and a high social position. He was the heir-expectant of avaluable estate, and no pains were spared upon his education. As he grew to manhood, however, his habits became such as to excite the gravest apprehensions as to his future, and by the time he was thirty years of age he was a reckless libertine, gambler, and spendthrift. Finding that his source of supplies was about to be cut off by his family, he obtained large sums of money by means of forged paper, with which he fled from Rio Janeiro to Lima, Peru. His whereabouts were not discovered for a long time, but when the information was received, the Brazilian Government made an effort to obtain his extradition. He was living in fine style in Lima, under the assumed name of Juan Sanchez, and, in some way, he was warned of his danger. Before any steps had been taken to expose or arrest him, he perpetrated another series of forgeries, by which he obtained a large amount of money, and then wholly disappeared. The aggregate of his forgeries was so great that a considerable notoriety attached to the case, and the facts were published in full in the leading newspapers of this country.
About the time of the great rush to California, after the gold discoveries there, a gentleman known as Don José Michel appeared in San Francisco, where he lived in regal splendor; indeed, his extravagance was so great as to make him conspicuous even among the reckless throng who filled the Golden City. After wasting a fortune with a prodigal hand, however, he suddenly vanished, and, although little was known positively on the subject, it was commonly understood that he had swindled a number of bankers and capitalists by worthless notes, drafts, and checks, many of which were wholly or partly forged. The men thus defrauded kept the matter quiet, both because they were ashamed to acknowledge how easily they had been imposed upon, and because they hoped to facilitate the capture of the criminal by working in secret. The incidents were related to Senator Muirhead in a casual conversation with a friend who had recently returned from the Pacific coast, and the description given of Don José Michel tallied exactly with that of Juan Sanchez and José Gomez.
By an odd coincidence, the month after the departure of Don José Michel from San Francisco, a brilliant gentleman of nearly the same name appeared in Quito, Ecuador, where he pursued a course so exactly similar in character to that of Gomez, Sanchez, and Michel, that it was not difficult to imagine that that ubiquitous person was identical with the elegant Don Pedro Michel who created such a brief excitement in Quito, terminating with forgery and a hasty flight.
About two years previous to the time of which I write, a wealthy Brazilian arrived in London, and became a great favorite in society. His wife was a beautiful Spaniard, and her exquisite taste, courtesy, and knowledge of the world were highly appreciated by the select circle of aristocracy into which she and her husband were soon admitted.Don José Arias was the name of this gentleman, and he was soon known in nearly every drawing-room in Belgravia. He was introduced by the Brazilianchargé d'affaires, in the absence of the Minister Resident, and this semi-official guarantee of his position in Brazil gave him a passport everywhere. It was not strange, therefore, that such a handsome, refined, and agreeable couple should be cordially and hospitably received, especially as their wealth was undoubtedly enormous, while their manners showed that they had been born in the purple of aristocracy. It was a sad shock to society when it was learned that Don José and Donna Maria had absconded suddenly, taking with them about fifty thousand pounds sterling, obtained by forgery. It was then learned that the Brazilian legation had been the victim of forged documents also, though the intimate acquaintance of Don José with the policy and statecraft of Brazil in many important affairs had contributed largely to his success in deceiving the young diplomat who was temporarily in charge of the legation.
It was not until more than a year after this occurrence that Don Pedro P. L. de Morito arrived in New York, with his beautiful wife, Donna Lucia. They did not stop long in New York after their arrival, but spent the latter part of the summer in the White Mountains in a very retired manner, although they lived in the best style that the place afforded. In August, they made a hasty trip to Washington and back to NewYork again, where they began a more pretentious mode of life than they had chosen theretofore. Don Pedro kept a yacht elegantly fitted up, and his horses were the best that money could obtain. His bachelor suppers were models of epicurean perfection, and when his wife gave a reception, everything was in the best taste and style. While visiting Washington, Don Pedro had met Senator Muirhead, who had gone there for a few days on public business, and the acquaintance was renewed in New York, where the Senator had some private interests demanding his attention. Something had led the Senator to connect Don Pedro with Gomez, Sanchez, Michel, and Arias, and though the idea was a vague one in his mind, it was sufficiently fixed to cause him to institute inquiries into Señor Morito's antecedents. As previously stated, nothing could be learned of him previous to his arrival in New York, and the only circumstance which could possibly be regarded as suspicious was, that both in Washington and New York he had avoided meeting the Peruvian Minister and other fellow-countrymen.
The peculiarity of the case interested me, and, after a long conversation with the Senator, I agreed to unravel the slight mystery surrounding the parties, and to make a complete review of their past history so far as it might be possible to obtain it. No harm could result from such a course, whether they were honest or the reverse; and so, having decided upon a simple plan, I returned to Chicago to select the persons to represent me in Gloster.
My preliminary survey of the field had brought me into contact with many of the most fashionable people in Gloster; and, as I foresaw that my operatives would be called upon to move in the best society while engaged in this investigation, I obtained as extended information about the members of thecrême de la crêmeas possible. Since many of them will figure conspicuously in the incidents of this story, a brief description of the leaders will be necessary.
One of the wealthiest men of Gloster was a bachelor, named Henry O. Mather. He was about fifty years old, but he still retained much of the fire of youth, and he was one of the most popular members of society. At an early day in the history of the Great West he had settled at Gloster, where he had invested largely in unimproved lands; and, by forethought and good judgment in his speculations, he had rapidly increased his property in extent and value, until, at this time, he was one of the few millionaires west of the Alleghanies. About three years previous to the time of which I write, he had invested largely in the new railroad schemes then organized, and his importance as a railway magnate was recognized throughout the whole country. His reputation as a shrewd business man made him a species of authority among his fellow-townspeople, and few persons would have ventured to distrust the safety of any enterprisein which he was actively interested. Indeed, so complete was the confidence of most men in him, that it was not considered necessary in buying real estate to trace the title further back than to Henry O. Mather, a deed from him being considered as secure as a patent from the government. Personally he was a very agreeable man, being gallant without affectation, and brilliant without priggishness. His figure was of medium height, compactly built, and he carried himself with an erect bearing and springy gait, which greatly aided in deceiving strangers as to his age. His hair was brown, turning gradually to gray, and he wore full gray side-whiskers. His features were quite pleasing except the mouth, which was rather large and sensual. On the whole, he was a man with uncommon ability to please when he felt disposed to exert himself, and his great wealth was an additional charm which society was not slow to recognize. He owned a large house, occupying the whole of a square in the most fashionable part of the city, and his sister-in-law was installed as its mistress.
Richard Perkins was an Englishman who had long lived in Gloster, where he owned the largest brewery in the West. He was of middle height, but being quite fleshy, his gait was a kind of waddle—the reverse of elegant or dignified. His smooth, round, jovial face was strongly expressive of an appreciation of the good things of this world, and he rarely denied himself any indulgence that passion craved and that money could procure.
It was while Mather and Perkins were on their annual visit to New York that they met Señor Morito and his beautiful wife, Donna Lucia. The distinguished foreigners soon made a complete conquest of both the western gentlemen, who invited them in the most cordial manner to visit Gloster at their earliest convenience.
The delights of New York society were enjoyed for several months by these wealthy and aristocratic foreigners before they were able to keep the promise made to Mather and Perkins; for they were entertained by the old Knickerbocker families of Manhattan in a princely style. They were the guests of the most exclusive circles of the city, and everywhere they displayed such perfect courtesy, good breeding, andsavoir faire, that it was evident they were accustomed to wealth and high social position. They had elegant apartments in the leading hotel of the city, and their cash expenditures showed the possession of an unlimited fortune. They finally tore themselves away from New York, arriving in Gloster during the comparatively dull season of Lent. Here their fame had become known in society through the incessant praises of Mather and Perkins, and their reception into the highest circles was coincident with their arrival. The unanimous verdict of those who made their acquaintance was, that Gloster had never entertained two more thoroughly pleasing guests than the Don and Donna Morito.
Don Pedro was about forty years of age, buthe had all the brilliancy and ease of a man of thirty. His figure was very fine, being slightly above the medium height, erect, compact, and muscular. His hands and feet were small and elegantly shaped, but were not effeminate. His rich olive complexion was in admirable harmony with his soft black eyes and deep red lips. His face was a good oval, without being unmanly, and his black, glossy hair was beautifully curly and wavy. He wore side-whiskers and a long moustache, beneath which his smile, the ladies said, was faultless. Like most South Americans, he seemed too lazy to be unamiable, and his general style was that of a man who, having possessed wealth always, would be perfectly lost without it.
Donna Lucia was a fine specimen of Spanish beauty, education, and refinement. It was easy to see that she possessed more force of character than her husband, and that her passionate nature was like a volcano, which might burst forth at any time, driving her to the most dangerous courses if it took possession of her. A detailed description of such a woman is an impossibility. In general, she was a beauty of the Andalusian type, as nearly perfect in form and feature as can be conceived; but her expression was of an infinite variety of characters, each one giving the precise shade of meaning most applicable to the time, place, person, and sentiment. In short, she was so near perfection that nearly all the men she met were in love with her, and nine-tenths ofthem more than half believed that she regretted her marriage for their sake. Nevertheless, she kept all admirers at a certain distance, which only bewitched them the more.
At the time of which I write, Don Pedro was so much pleased with Gloster, that he had rented a large residence in a very fashionable locality, and was making preparations to spend a year there. The charming manner in which they had entertained their friends at the hotel was ample guarantee that when the Don and Donna were established in their new home, they would surpass anything in the way of festivities ever seen in Gloster; hence, all the best society of the place rejoiced greatly at the arrival of this new constellation in the social firmament.
Among the bachelors most noted insalonsand parlors of the city were Daniel McCarthy and Charles Sylvanus, the former a lawyer, and the latter a journalist. McCarthy was an Irishman, of brilliant talents and ready wit. Although still comparatively a young man, he was the county prosecuting attorney, and was considered one of the foremost lawyers of the city. He was very good-looking and good-hearted, and his natural drollery made him a most entertaining companion. While speaking in court, and often in society, he had a habit of running his fingers through his long, thick hair, which he would also, at times, throw back with a peculiar jerk of his head. This habit was especially frequent when he became deeply interested in his subject, and thespectators could always tell whether Dan was doing his best, even when they could not hear his words.
Sylvanus was editor and part proprietor of an evening newspaper. As a journalist he was not above mediocrity, but he was well received in society, where even a moderate allowance of brains will suffice for success.
A conspicuous member of society and a pillar of the Swedenborgian church was Mr. John Preston, a banker and capitalist. With a book of Swedenborgian revelations in one hand and a bundle of tax titles in the other, he would frequently orate to a crowd of unbelievers, from a text drawn from his book, in a manner calculated to quite convert them, were it not that they knew he was only working up a fresh head of steam to enable him to grind the faces of the poor upon whose property he held tax titles. In fact, many people were of the opinion that this man was a dangerous character, in spite of his pretense of piety, his ostentatious charity, and his assumption of therôleof a professional philanthropist. They insinuated that a man could afford to give largely to an astronomical society, a college, an academy of sciences, and other objects of education, when he had appropriated many thousands of dollars belonging to the school fund to his own use; that he could easily contribute freely to his church, when he used the church property in his own interests and managed the society to suit himself; and that there was no great amount ofphilanthropy in giving a few hundred dollars to miscellaneous charities, when he made ten times the amount in shaving notes at usurious interest and acquiring land by means only one remove from actual theft; these things were becoming so notorious that a man of less indomitable brass than John Preston would have long since been sent to Coventry, if not to jail; but he revolved on his own center, sublimely indifferent to the attacks of his enemies, for whom, by the way, he used to pray with most fervent unction. His wife was a pleasant, motherly woman, who gave liberally to charitable objects, and who regarded her husband as one of the saints of the earth.
There were three children—a young man and two girls. The former gave no promise of either ability, probity, or ambition, and there was about him a noticeable air of deficiency in both mental and moral worth. The girls were commonplace nonentities, with no pretensions to beauty or grace.
One of the most prominent citizens of Gloster was a wealthy tanner, named Charles H. Sanders. Having foreseen at an early day the great progress which the city would make in population and importance, he had invested largely in tracts of unimproved land, which he held against all offers to purchase until his real estate was more extended and valuable than that of any other property-owner in the city. Personally he was very thin and angular, with such a sickly look that his death seemed possible any day, thoughhis constitution was of that character which might hold out much longer than that of a more robust type. His wife was a very charming woman, and they had two young daughters, who gave promise of considerable beauty when they should arrive at maturity.
Mr. Thomas Burke and his wife were, perhaps, the most general favorites in Gloster society. Mr. Burke was tall and well built, and his large head and commanding appearance made him conspicuous in any group. He had a broad, high forehead, heavy eyebrows, deep-set black eyes, a Roman nose, and a heavy black moustache, which completely covered his mouth. His straight, black hair, high cheek-bones, and swarthy complexion, gave him slightly the look of having Indian blood in his veins; but the rest of his features were unmistakably Celtic, and the moment he spoke, the Irishman stood confessed. He was a man of such extensive reading and general information that few persons excelled him in conversation. His wife was also cultivated and intelligent, so that either as guest or hostess she was equally agreeable and popular. They had a large family of bright and interesting children.
One of the social curiosities of the city was known as Deacon Humphrey. He was a striking instance of the importance which self-complacent mediocrity can obtain in a newly-settled community, in spite of ponderous stupidity. His large head gave him his only excuse for professing to have brains, and his air of preoccupationmade him in appearance the personification of wisdom; indeed, a witty journalist, who had sounded the depths of Humphrey's ignorance, once said that "no mancouldbe as wise as Humphreylooked." No better condensation of this character in a few words could be made. He was part proprietor of a morning newspaper, and at times, to the dismay of the other stockholders, he aspired to the editorial tripod. The mighty lucubrations of his intellect were generally assigned to the waste-basket, and in the city it was well known that his influence in the columns of the paper was absolutely nothing, though in the country he was still regarded with awe by the bucolic mind. He was generally known as "Deacon" from his honorary occupancy of that office in a Presbyterian church. Mrs. Humphrey was seldom seen, being in poor health almost constantly, but their only daughter, Jennie, was one of the foremost of the fashionable of thedilettantiof the city. Indeed, it was confidently anticipated that, some day, Miss Jennie would burst forth as a full-blown authoress, and overpower an expectant public with the radiance of her intellect and the elegance of her style.
No description of Gloster celebrities would be complete without that of Ethan Allen Benson, Esq., formerly Member of Congress, and late Minister Plenipotentiary at an important European court. The suggestion having once been made to him by some waggish diplomat that he resembled the first Napoleon, he was ever afterward desirous of drawing attention to this fancied resemblance. He was a vain, fussy, consequential politician, whose principal strength was in the ward caucus and the saloon.
Judge Peter B. Taylor was another old settler, and he was frequently seen in social circles in spite of his age. His forehead was very broad indeed, but his face tapered so rapidly to a pointed chin as to make his head wedge-shaped. He had coarse, faded hair, but no whiskers nor beard, and only a scrubby, gray moustache. He had a singular habit of working his eyes independently of each other, and the effect upon a stranger who was not aware of this peculiarity was sometimes startling. His mouth was quite large, one side appearing larger than the other, and his lower lip slightly protruded, giving him a very harsh and forbidding appearance. He had at one time occupied a seat on the judicial bench, but few persons could understand on what grounds he deserved the office, unless it were that people believed the adage about a poor lawyer making a good judge. He was quite wealthy, and his business was that of a money loaner and real estate speculator. He was considered to be very pious and charitable—on Sunday; during the rest of the week no Shylock ever demanded his pound of flesh more relentlessly than he his three per cent. a month.
It was among a society of which the foregoing were shining lights, that I was to operate at the request of Senator Muirhead. On returning toChicago from Gloster, I gave a great deal of thought to the case, for there was so little to act upon that none of the ordinary plans could be depended upon. During his stay in this country, Don Pedro had apparently acted in a perfectly honorable manner toward every one, and it would be impossible to proceed against him legally in the United States for crimes committed elsewhere, until the aggrieved parties should take the necessary steps for his extradition; with several of the countries in which he was supposed to have committed his crimes we had no extradition treaty, and nothing could be done here to arrest or punish him; hence, the task of exposing his previous career might be fruitless, even though the Senator's suspicions should be confirmed in every particular. Nothing whatever could be adduced against his character since his arrival in the United States, and I was, therefore, confined to the prevention of future frauds rather than the detection of old ones. The primary object of my efforts was thus made to be the discovery of the Don's intentions, as, without some slight forecast of his plans, I might be unable to circumvent them. Accordingly, I decided that I must furnish him with a friend who would be sufficiently intimate with him to become his trusted companion and adviser. At the same time, it would be essential to learn as much as possible relative to the previous career of both the Don and Donna, for it might be desirable to use a little moral suasion with them by showingthat their history was known. This plan would involve no injustice to them, for, if innocent of wrong-doing, they would never know that they had been under surveillance; while, if guilty, they deserved no consideration.