CHAPTER XIISKULKER CHASINGHunting Bad Men—Deserter-Catching in the Southern Mountains—Tricks of the Slacker’s Trade—Running Down Unwilling Patriots—Some A. P. L. Adventures—Death of a Deserter—How a Southern Ranger Brings Them In.One of the earliest recollections of the writer’s boyhood is that of seeing his father busily engaged in molding bullets for his rifle on a certain Sunday morning—at that time the old muzzle-loading rifle was still in use. The old gentleman was with the Army Recruiting Service in the Civil War, in a branch which at times was obliged to look after men who were evading the draft or unduly prolonging their furloughs, or who belonged to that detested group of conscientious objectors and obstructionists who at that time bore the local name of “Copperheads.” Some of these men had ambushed and killed two of the Army men sent out to bring them in, and as others of the force then took up the matter, it was deemed wise to be alert and well armed. The murderers were duly apprehended and dealt with.At that time we had a United States Secret Service whose annals make interesting reading to-day—as, for instance, the burial by Secret Service men of the body of John Wilkes Booth, the assassin of President Lincoln. That final resting place to this day is known to very few men. There was, however, in Civil War times no Military Intelligence Division, no censorship of the mails or cables, no real system of espionage, and certainly no A. P. L. We had less need then than now for such extensions of the arm of Justice, because then each army was fighting an honorable foe—though both were mistaken foes—and because our country then was not populated so largely withunassimilated and treacherous foreigners. There was some spy work in that time on both sides, as in any war; but for the most part, clean, straightaway fighting was the main concern of both sides; and that war was so fought that such a thing as honor did exist and could survive for both combatants.The Civil War had as one of its worst results the fact that the rich new West and Northwest, then opening up with the early railroads, came to be largely settled soon after the war by a heavy foreign population, instead of by young Americans who must otherwise have marched out at the head of the rails, and not at the head of armies from which so many of them never returned. Had there been no Civil War, there would have been less of loose immigration. Without that war, there would be no Non-Partisan League in the Northwest, no German Alliance in the Middle West, no Bolshevism in the cities of the East. Nevertheless, even in that day of honorable warfare, when men met foemen worthy of their steel and not cowardly assassins, there existed men who had the craven heart. There were deserters then as there always are in war,—and sometimes they were sought out by men who molded bullets of a Sunday morning, and who, having started out after their men, did not come back until they had found them.To-day also we have deserters and slackers—let us say, perhaps, with better color of excuse than in the old days, because in some of the more remote districts of the United States, far from the confusion of the crowded city life, in sections where the world runs smoothly and quietly and men are content, there existed no definite and concrete local reasons for a man to go to war with a foe across the sea of whom he knew little or nothing. Secure in the only American part of America, sometimes the Southern mountaineers, for instance, resented the draft because they did not understand it. The bravest of the brave, ready to fight at the drop of the hat, and natural soldiers, there were among them many whose fathers joined the Federal Army in the Civil War. They volunteered for that—but they would not be drafted for this foreign war. They made a brand of conscientious objectors—rather, say,ignorant objectors—who were dangerous to go up against in the laurel thickets or the far-back mountain coves. Very often, these men, when they learned how the flag of this country had been insulted, how our women and children had been murdered on the sea, were eager to join the colors, and never again were they deserters or slackers—only fighting men.To this form of military evader among the simple outlying people of the southern hills, there must be added a great many deserters of foreign descent all over the country, caught in the Selective Service Act. Some of these had imbibed no real loyalty to America in their home associations; much too often their environments were those of other countries and not this. They heard another speech than ours used as a “mother tongue”; daily saw customs of the old world maintained, and not those of the new world taken on. They had small heart for the war because their loyalty to this country still was crude and unformulated. Many of the foreign-born troops who fought so well in France first joined our colors, not because they wished to, but because they had to, the law leaving no option. After that, they learned the fierce love of a real soldier for the real flag of a real country. Perhaps their wounds and their deaths may teach their surviving relatives in America not to remain foreigners, but to become Americans—and not foreigners masquerading as Americans. Some of our best soldiers had fathers who had taken the German oath never to renounce fealty to that famous “War Lord,” chiefest coward of them all, who had not courage to die at the head of his army.There was also in this war, as in all other wars, a certain percentage of the sullen and rebellious, of the weak and cowardly, men of no mark and no convictions in any cause, men who never rise above themselves and their selfish concerns in any situation. Beyond these, again, was a small class whose natural home longings or home bewailings or home pleadings led them to desert. Because of many reasons, then, a certain percentage of deserters marked this war as every war.In the eyes of the law this was every man’s war, and all must get under and back of it with no exceptions. Adeserter was a deserter. Some were dangerous men, and some no more than yellow slackers. We could not in these pages give a great many instances of either type. One A. P. L. report, however, that comes from Birmingham, Alabama, is peculiar in that it gives details regarding several investigations and arrests of deserters.One of the most remarkable cases handled by the Birmingham Division was that of DanD——of Tuscaloosa County, who deserted from the regular army of the United States on November 27, 1917, and was not captured until September 1, 1918. Information having been received by the Chief on the 23rd of August, 1918, that Dan was hiding near Reno Mines, he immediately ordered a number of his men under Special AgentM——to go after the deserter. The trip was taken in automobiles on the afternoon of August 23, and through very heavy mist. Arriving at Reno Mines, some information was given the party as to the location of the man’s home, which proved to be a four-room boxed house in front of which and about sixty feet away was a small frame barn about twenty by thirty feet, built of rough plank, with four horse stalls in the main building and some cow stalls in the lean-to shed.A careful search of house and barn failed to show any signs of the missing man, his parents and sister denying any knowledge of his whereabouts. The mother said, “The last I hear’n of Dan was a letter from Long Island two months or more ago,” and she remarked, “Of course, you’uns know he was home on a furlough last November.” A request to produce the letter was met with the reply, “The chillun tore it up.”The search of the barn was again renewed by the men, and the loft was searched with the aid of a ladder from the outside. It was found to be filled with fodder, hay and grass, and prodding with poles and forks convinced the parties that there was no chance for any one to be hiding under same.Very much mystified, and yet satisfied by the demeanor and sullen manner of the father, mother and sister that Dan was somewhere close, the Special Agent divided his men, leaving part of them to watch, while the others sought for outside information.Mr.W——, a Deputy Sheriff of Tuscaloosa County, had been trying to locate Dan for ten months, and had watched continuously as much as ten days at one time, both house and barn. A number of searches prior to the arrival of the A. P. L. squad, made in and around the mines of the different operating companies, had given no clue. One thing was certain, however: nearly everybody in the district was related to him, due to the intermarriage during several generations of the people, and, as usual, there were some of his own kin-folks who would “shore like to see him pulled.”At last, the patience of the party being exhausted, and feeling sure that Dan was somewhere, either about the house or barn, the father, WilliamD——, and the mother, and a sister, who had denied any relationship to Dan, were told positively either to surrender him or go to jail. They asked for time, and it was refused. They pleaded for the officers to come again to-morrow. This also was refused. After pleading again to give them till afternoon, they finally asked one of the League operators to a conference behind the house with the mother and father. They then renewed their pleadings for time, but finally agreed to show the hiding place of their son and deliver him to the party, as they now realized that the “U. S. was a blame sight stronger than kin-folks who were liable to split on you at any minute.”The father was then accompanied to the barn. He knocked on the wall of the barn and said, “Come down, son!” Almost immediately a wide plank in the floor of the barn loft, almost over the heads of the astonished men, mysteriously arose from its resting place, revealing the most unique and simple hiding place imaginable. It was nothing more or less than a box, about as large as a good sized coffin, in which there were bed clothes, food and water. The box was cut to fit the joists, hiding all joints, and being apparent from below as a part of the loft floor. It was covered with fodder and hay above, the occupant using one loose plank of the box as his trap door. When occupied, it would naturally be as tight as any other part of the floor. Later, the party saw a hole dug out under the cow stall which he had occupied untilhis more palatial quarters in the coffin box had been provided.The District was noted in years gone by as the “favorite stamping ground of Jim Morrison and kindred outlawed spirits.” Most of the inhabitants of the surrounding country are employed in the mining of brown iron ore, which is taken out of large open cuts and washed by machinery and shipped to the furnaces of the Birmingham district. Nearly all of the labor, black and white, are the descendants of small farmers of Tuscaloosa County and the southern part of Jefferson County. Many of them still carry on farming in a small way, and the region has long been famous for its smooth and creamy “moonshine,” which in some mysterious way still continues to be made. It was for many years a favorite pastime of old Judge Shackelford, who lived and died in sight of theD——home, to mix his corn juice in an old sugar bowl while dispensing justice in the good old way. Shortly after the events narrated here, the sheriff of the county was murdered in cold blood on the village street by one of the outlaws of the section.Two other interesting cases handled by the Birmingham Division concerned two brothers,S——andR——. S—— deserted from Camp Pike, Arkansas, October 5, 1917, andR——from Camp Mills, N. Y., September 25, 1917. The peculiar part of the case was that whileS——was listed as a deserter, the War Department had no record ofR——deserting, though they were advised that he was in this section of the country and efforts were made to check the records. While their desertions took place the latter part of 1917, it was not until August, 1918, that Operative No. 202 of the Birmingham Division received confidential information that both men were in Shelby County, Alabama, making moonshine whiskey, which they were selling to the miners and also to citizens in Bessemer, Alabama, a town thirteen miles southwest of Birmingham.A party was organized to go after them, but unfortunately missed them by four days, the brothers and their family having moved elsewhere. Operative continued giving the case active attention, and finally information was secured that the brothers were in Coosa County, Alabama.Arrangements for automobiles having been made over long distance, a party of A. P. L. men, six in number, headed by Agent Crawford of the Department of Justice, left Birmingham at 3:50 P. M. Thursday, November 7 (the day made famous by the premature Armistice celebration), arriving at Goodwater about 6:00 P. M.After supper they were met by two 100 per cent American volunteers with automobiles, and were driven about five miles beyond Goodwater. The latter informed them of the danger of arousing these parties by going over the regular road, on account of dogs barking, so they left the machines about two miles away from the cabin they were seeking and detoured over a large hill, in the dark and cold, to get to the cabin. The report says:The humorous part of it was that, in spite of our precautions, the “hound dawgs” treed us about a mile from the place and certainly let forth unearthly baying. By the time we reached and surrounded the cabin, the entire household was aroused. Again we seemed doomed to disappointment, for we were informed that the parties we sought had left there just four days before—the same length of time by which we missed them in Shelby County.After exploring the country in the immediate vicinity we finally secured a tip that the brothers were near another town about forty miles away, so we regained the machines and returned to Goodwater, arriving there about 10:30 p. m. Feeling that perhaps some word might reach the parties that we were after them, if we postponed the trip, our drivers, after much discussion finally agreed to drive us to Kellyton, Alabama, about ten miles from Goodwater, to a man who ran a jitney line. It was the coldest night of the year, with only the stars as light. Finally we reached Kellyton, shortly after midnight, and while two of us were arousing the jitney man the others collected leaves and firewood and in a few minutes had a roaring fire by the roadside to warm our frozen extremities.Until we acquainted the jitney man with the urgency of the matter, he demurred about getting out in the cold, saying he had only two Ford cars and would have to depend on a thirteen-year-old son to drive the second car of the two. He was persuaded to take us over the thirty miles of rough country roads, with our drivers rather uncertain of the correct route.We reached Wadley, Alabama, about five o’clock in the morning. Some coffee filled a long-felt want and in a few minuteswe were ready again. Further investigation, at Abanda, developed the fact that the two suspects were with their family, who had just moved in a country house about a mile distant from the town. This house was in a hollow, off the road, well shielded from view, and the surroundings made it an ideal place for those seeking seclusion. Bearing in mind the fact that in the rural districts most every one is suspicious of strangers, we duly surrounded the house about 6:30 A. M. At a signal the house was rushed and the men were in the center passage of the house before the occupants were aware of their presence. Hearing the noise, the mother opened the door to one of the rooms and looked out. Seeing these strange men, she tried to close the door, but was prevented from doing so by one of the men who stuck his foot in the opening. On being questioned the mother denied that the boys were there.The house was the usual country cabin, with rooms on each side and a hall down the middle, so while the two members were forcing the door where the mother was, Agent Crawford broke in the door across the hall and discovered the two brothers on pallets on the floor. They were promptly covered before they had a chance to use their pump guns, though search revealed three of the guns fully loaded and placed for convenient use. Also, an extra box of cartridges was found with the top off. Had it not been for the quickness with which we worked, trouble would doubtless have ensued, as the reputation of these men was that they shot first and asked questions afterward. One member of the family had the reputation of killing at least two men and had they been given a chance they would have resisted.The boys were ordered to dress and placed under arrest. Both of these men were big, strapping fellows, weighing about 175 pounds apiece, and each of them six feet tall. They had no dependents, so there was absolutely no excuse for their failure to serve their country. It usually is the case in the rural districts of the South that nearly everyone is related to everybody else, and all are “quick on the trigger” if they think their relatives are being sought. It is interesting to mention that the house where we captured the brothers had new barbed wire fencing almost completely surrounding it, as if they expected a little trench warfare of their own. Though we have handled numerous other cases, I believe the circumstances surrounding this particular one will long linger in the memory of those composing the party.The Local Agent of the Department of Justice at Birmingham had many times received information that therewere a number of deserters and delinquents in the swamps of Pickens County, Alabama. The local office there being unable to cope with the situation, on Monday, December 10, a D. J. man, RobertB——, went to Gordo to secure information as to the location of these men. The information was secured. Mr.B——then proceeded to Tuscaloosa where he called the Special Agent over long distance phone asking that eight A. P. L. men be sent to join him in Tuscaloosa. Eight picked men of the A. P. L. assembled, and with three high power automobiles, left Birmingham at 9:00 A. M., December 11, arriving in Tuscaloosa at noon. At four o’clock the party left Tuscaloosa, going to a point two miles from Gordo where deputy sheriffD——met the party.D——was thoroughly familiar with the surrounding country.Leaving the automobiles about two miles from the first house that was to be covered, the party very quietly surrounded the house, not overlooking the barn and out houses. They had been informed that the alleged deserter had been staying at this house, the owner being his step father. The whole place was searched, no evidence being found. The step father and young brother were put under arrest. This, however, failed to accomplish the desired result. The mother was in her bed, an old-time, worn-out umbrella beside her. Before the Assistant Chief could catch her hand, a heavy blow was accurately placed on his head, the old lady remarking, “I am damn tired of all this foolishness!” She was gently relieved of the umbrella and convinced that the bed was the place for her.A younger daughter, about the age of fifteen, left the house at this time by a back entrance and ran a mile to another step brother’s house, with the evident intention of notifying her step brother who was wanted. This was the undoing of the A. P. L., as far as this deserter was concerned. Another step brother of the deserter, however, was placed under arrest, handcuffed and brought to jail for harboring a deserter. Operatives discovered notices that had been put on different houses in the locality of this deserter, one of them reading: “You are talking too damn much. The first thing you know the sun will rise under your house.”The party then proceeded to the house of another deserter. The house as usual was surrounded. One of the operatives discovered an open window with a blind, the window being about two feet square. While a search light and a good gun guarded the entrance, AgentB——and an A. P. L. operative crawled through this opening in the room. After awakening the occupants, a deserter and the mother of another deserter were found. The deserter was forced to dress. The mother was closely questioned regarding her son, and finally agreed that if she would be allowed to go alone, she would bring him to us. This was agreed to. She was watched and in about fifteen minutes she brought her son, who was a deserter, and also her husband. It was discovered that the son and father were sleeping in a ditch about one hundred yards from the house. They had bed clothing, and slept in the open air with the sky for a roof. These two also were handcuffed and brought to jail.The most interesting case on this trip was the capture of another deserter who had been away from camp for over a year. He and his wife, it is alleged, had sworn that he would never be taken alive. The information was that they had bought a lot in the community cemetery where they were to be buried together. Arriving at the house of the deserter at 2:15 A. M., the house was covered and each operative given detailed instructions. The deserter was called to the open door, and was warned not to offer resistance, as his house was fully surrounded. When told he was wanted by Uncle Sam’s men, he opened his door and offered no resistance, stating that he had made up his mind to surrender to government officers, but not to the local officers. Judging from the weapons that he had by his bed, he evidently meant what he had said. He too was handcuffed and brought to jail. The total mileage of this trip was two hundred and sixteen miles, all without a scratch to car or man.Lexington, North Carolina, was in this same mountain country which furnished so considerable a number of deserters during the war. It is a strange thing to say, but perhaps the largest numbers of deserters were found in the most American and most loyal part of the country—thatis to say, the South, where there was almost no alien population. The only pure-bred American population in the United States was the very element which seemed unwilling to support the war! This, however, is a statement which needs full explanation. Let the Chief of Lexington make that explanation in the story of one case.TomB——was a Tar-Heel tie hacker and lived in the mountains of North Carolina, twenty-six miles from a railroad. He could neither read nor write, but was straight and strong, and to see him swing a broad-axe was worth a trip into the mountains. When Tom heard of the draft he did not understand it. He had led a life of peaceful seclusion. There were two old Germans over at the railroad that ran a store, but Tom could work up no enthusiasm about crossing the Atlantic to kill people of that sort. But the draft came and many of Tom’s meantime friends disappeared. It seemed inexplicable to him. He did not want to go to war with anybody and did not understand why there was any war. The solution of his problem at last came to him.His people had come to these mountain fastnesses because there they found that liberty of thought and action which all our early Americans longed for; but now into that freedom of action there came some intangible influence which he could not understand. Tom simply resolved to march into the forest as his great-grandfather had done. He “stepped back into the brush” for the duration of the war. For him this was the only natural solution for a problem he did not understand. In this way he could escape what seemed to him oppression and impairment of the liberty which he held more dear than life. So he made the usual arrangements. Food would be left for him at a certain spot by his people. If anyone came in looking for Tom, his people would put up a smoke signal so he would understand. Meantime, Tom continued his work in a tie camp, his squirrel rifle leaning against a tree. When he finished his work, he “stepped back” into deep laurel and was lost as though he had gone up into smoke. His decision, having been taken, would remain unshakable even unto death. He said, “I reckon I made up my mind, and I’d ruther die here than in Germany.”Let us consider the situation. Here is TomB——, anAmerican of native blood, afraid of nothing that rides, walks or swims, willing to fight his weight in wildcats to defend the freedom and liberty of his native hills—and he is a fugitive from justice. Now, how can the A. P. L. save that man from the consequence of his folly?He was saved. As soon as the Chief heard of Tom B——’s disappearance, he packed his timber cruising kit and went out into Tom’s country. At night he reached the cabin of Uncle John Coggins, who knew everybody in that neck of the woods and whose word was law. Uncle John knew what was up, but he said nothing—only kept his small blue eyes fixed on the visitor. After they had finished their meal, the two went out and sat on a log in the sun, in the middle of a clearing where no one could approach without being seen in time.“I understand,” remarked the Chief casually, “that Tom has stepped back into the brush.”No sign from Uncle John that he had heard anything. Tom’s name was not mentioned again.Then the talk was shifted to the war and other things. The chief tried to explain to Uncle John the problem of raising the army. He tried to bring home the war, across the thousands of miles of sea and land, to this old man sitting on a log in the western North Carolina mountains. He pointed out the purpose and the manifest fairness of selective service, taking all alike from all ranks.Then they talked about the weather and the crops and the soaring price of corn “likker” and the growing scarcity of good white oak timber. The Chief went away. Uncle John, when he said good-bye, understood perfectly why the visitor had come to his cabin.Several days later Uncle John appeared in the office of the Chief. He drew up a chair and remarked, “Howdy,” and sat gazing at the other man with about as much animation as an Egyptian mummy. Only his little snappy eyes under the bushy brows told of his alertness. The conversation was again about the weather, the crops, the soaring price of corn “likker” and the growing scarcity of good white oak timber. At length Uncle John hitched his chair closer.“I kinda tho’t you all mought wanter know ’bout TomB——,” he said. “I’ve done been out whar Tom is a-settin’ back, an’ he seed how hit is—an’ he’s a-comin’ in!” The Chief of the A. P. L. nodded. The thing was settled. They smoked for a time, discussed the weather, the crops, the soaring price of corn “likker” and the growing scarcity of good white oak timber. Tom’s name was not mentioned again. The Chief spoke quite casually of a few details that would naturally attend Tom’s “comin’ in.” Uncle John said he would attend to those matters. A little later he went away. And by and by TomB——came in and joined the Army.These Southern leaders understood the mountain people. Their method of work was infinitely more simple than sending a posse out into the brush to round up a desperate man who knew how to shoot to kill. There were characters who needed other methods; but among the boys in the mountains, ignorance and aloofness were the common causes of their “stepping back into the brush.” To have called any one of them afraid to fight would have been the deepest insult possible to men of their race. Once in the army, they did fight—the records of the Army will speak as to that. There never were better or braver soldiers in the world, nor men more loyal and devoted to their country.Olympia, Washington, had an interesting case of a deserter namedG——, whose father made the statement that anyone who took the boy would have to come shooting. The house was searched but the boy was gone. The A. P. L. operative later became a game warden, and while traveling in the country ran across an empty cabin. As it was known that the boy’s father had taken out a trapper’s license, they thought that perhaps this cabin might be occupied by the deserter. It was in a swamp, built under overhanging trees, so it was almost impossible to find. There was no trail to the cabin, as the boy did not go in and out in any regular way but took different paths to avoid discovery. The operative and an associate went into the woods, foundG——’s line of traps, followed them up and captured him in the woods. This deserter’s family would not buy Liberty bonds but said they would save their money for ammunition. The prompt and vigorousaction of A. P. L. closed a case which was notorious in the vicinity.A study of the reports of operatives engaged in League activities at the busy Birmingham Division, and indeed all over the country, shows an astonishing lack of anything like personal violence. It never could be told, however, where such an instance might break out. Only two or three cases of killing in the course of duty are recorded in the thousands of cases handled. One of these comes from a quiet little farming village, Morris, Illinois, about the last place in the world where anything of the sort might have been expected. It resulted in the shooting down, in the uniform of our Army, of Private A. J. K——, Company D.,U. S.Infantry, a deserter from Rock Island arsenal.K——had escaped from confinement at Rock Island with Corporal GeorgeS——. Acting SheriffS——, who also was Chief of the A. P. L. at Morris, accompanied by Chief of PoliceA——, had been advised to be on the lookout for two deserters who were reported to be bad men.The two men were on top of a box car when a train pulled into town, and were accosted by the Sheriff. They claimed to be government guards, and were asked to show their papers. A weapon was seen inS——’s pocket. The other man, still on the top of the car, covered the two peace officers and ordered them to keep away or he would shoot. At last the Sheriff managed to get the drop on him before he fired, but meantime the train began to pull out, so no shooting ensued at that time.Morris wired Joliet to arrest the soldiers when the train got in. The man hunt now was on, because other officers down the valley reported the men wanted for desertion. The two fugitives left the train at Durkee’s Crossing and hid in the woods near the tracks. The Sheriff got a posse and following down the track, located the men and surrounded the wood where they were concealed. The chief got up toS——unnoticed, covered him with a rifle and told him to come along, which he did. He then asked S—— where the other man was.Just then,K——, who had not been seen, called to the officer to drop the gun or he would shoot. Somethreatening talk ensued on both sides andK——advanced, the officer still commanding him to drop his gun as he was under arrest.K——, in turn, demanded that the chief should drop his rifle, holding him covered fair all the time. The Chief then called for his men to fire. Patrolman Wm.M——fired onK——with his rifle, and K——dropped. He did not die immediately, and was taken to the hospital in Morris that night. The patrolman’s bullet passed through his left shoulder, cut through the lung, and lodged near the heart.K——refused to talk. His companion talked more freely, and said that K—— was bad and had had a shooting difficulty in West Virginia. They had both been in confinement, and had escaped with the intention of going back to West Virginia. He said thatK——“was the best shot in the regiment, and was a ‘killer.’” That the A. P. L. Chief was not himself killed is nothing less than a marvel.
Hunting Bad Men—Deserter-Catching in the Southern Mountains—Tricks of the Slacker’s Trade—Running Down Unwilling Patriots—Some A. P. L. Adventures—Death of a Deserter—How a Southern Ranger Brings Them In.
Hunting Bad Men—Deserter-Catching in the Southern Mountains—Tricks of the Slacker’s Trade—Running Down Unwilling Patriots—Some A. P. L. Adventures—Death of a Deserter—How a Southern Ranger Brings Them In.
One of the earliest recollections of the writer’s boyhood is that of seeing his father busily engaged in molding bullets for his rifle on a certain Sunday morning—at that time the old muzzle-loading rifle was still in use. The old gentleman was with the Army Recruiting Service in the Civil War, in a branch which at times was obliged to look after men who were evading the draft or unduly prolonging their furloughs, or who belonged to that detested group of conscientious objectors and obstructionists who at that time bore the local name of “Copperheads.” Some of these men had ambushed and killed two of the Army men sent out to bring them in, and as others of the force then took up the matter, it was deemed wise to be alert and well armed. The murderers were duly apprehended and dealt with.
At that time we had a United States Secret Service whose annals make interesting reading to-day—as, for instance, the burial by Secret Service men of the body of John Wilkes Booth, the assassin of President Lincoln. That final resting place to this day is known to very few men. There was, however, in Civil War times no Military Intelligence Division, no censorship of the mails or cables, no real system of espionage, and certainly no A. P. L. We had less need then than now for such extensions of the arm of Justice, because then each army was fighting an honorable foe—though both were mistaken foes—and because our country then was not populated so largely withunassimilated and treacherous foreigners. There was some spy work in that time on both sides, as in any war; but for the most part, clean, straightaway fighting was the main concern of both sides; and that war was so fought that such a thing as honor did exist and could survive for both combatants.
The Civil War had as one of its worst results the fact that the rich new West and Northwest, then opening up with the early railroads, came to be largely settled soon after the war by a heavy foreign population, instead of by young Americans who must otherwise have marched out at the head of the rails, and not at the head of armies from which so many of them never returned. Had there been no Civil War, there would have been less of loose immigration. Without that war, there would be no Non-Partisan League in the Northwest, no German Alliance in the Middle West, no Bolshevism in the cities of the East. Nevertheless, even in that day of honorable warfare, when men met foemen worthy of their steel and not cowardly assassins, there existed men who had the craven heart. There were deserters then as there always are in war,—and sometimes they were sought out by men who molded bullets of a Sunday morning, and who, having started out after their men, did not come back until they had found them.
To-day also we have deserters and slackers—let us say, perhaps, with better color of excuse than in the old days, because in some of the more remote districts of the United States, far from the confusion of the crowded city life, in sections where the world runs smoothly and quietly and men are content, there existed no definite and concrete local reasons for a man to go to war with a foe across the sea of whom he knew little or nothing. Secure in the only American part of America, sometimes the Southern mountaineers, for instance, resented the draft because they did not understand it. The bravest of the brave, ready to fight at the drop of the hat, and natural soldiers, there were among them many whose fathers joined the Federal Army in the Civil War. They volunteered for that—but they would not be drafted for this foreign war. They made a brand of conscientious objectors—rather, say,ignorant objectors—who were dangerous to go up against in the laurel thickets or the far-back mountain coves. Very often, these men, when they learned how the flag of this country had been insulted, how our women and children had been murdered on the sea, were eager to join the colors, and never again were they deserters or slackers—only fighting men.
To this form of military evader among the simple outlying people of the southern hills, there must be added a great many deserters of foreign descent all over the country, caught in the Selective Service Act. Some of these had imbibed no real loyalty to America in their home associations; much too often their environments were those of other countries and not this. They heard another speech than ours used as a “mother tongue”; daily saw customs of the old world maintained, and not those of the new world taken on. They had small heart for the war because their loyalty to this country still was crude and unformulated. Many of the foreign-born troops who fought so well in France first joined our colors, not because they wished to, but because they had to, the law leaving no option. After that, they learned the fierce love of a real soldier for the real flag of a real country. Perhaps their wounds and their deaths may teach their surviving relatives in America not to remain foreigners, but to become Americans—and not foreigners masquerading as Americans. Some of our best soldiers had fathers who had taken the German oath never to renounce fealty to that famous “War Lord,” chiefest coward of them all, who had not courage to die at the head of his army.
There was also in this war, as in all other wars, a certain percentage of the sullen and rebellious, of the weak and cowardly, men of no mark and no convictions in any cause, men who never rise above themselves and their selfish concerns in any situation. Beyond these, again, was a small class whose natural home longings or home bewailings or home pleadings led them to desert. Because of many reasons, then, a certain percentage of deserters marked this war as every war.
In the eyes of the law this was every man’s war, and all must get under and back of it with no exceptions. Adeserter was a deserter. Some were dangerous men, and some no more than yellow slackers. We could not in these pages give a great many instances of either type. One A. P. L. report, however, that comes from Birmingham, Alabama, is peculiar in that it gives details regarding several investigations and arrests of deserters.
One of the most remarkable cases handled by the Birmingham Division was that of DanD——of Tuscaloosa County, who deserted from the regular army of the United States on November 27, 1917, and was not captured until September 1, 1918. Information having been received by the Chief on the 23rd of August, 1918, that Dan was hiding near Reno Mines, he immediately ordered a number of his men under Special AgentM——to go after the deserter. The trip was taken in automobiles on the afternoon of August 23, and through very heavy mist. Arriving at Reno Mines, some information was given the party as to the location of the man’s home, which proved to be a four-room boxed house in front of which and about sixty feet away was a small frame barn about twenty by thirty feet, built of rough plank, with four horse stalls in the main building and some cow stalls in the lean-to shed.
A careful search of house and barn failed to show any signs of the missing man, his parents and sister denying any knowledge of his whereabouts. The mother said, “The last I hear’n of Dan was a letter from Long Island two months or more ago,” and she remarked, “Of course, you’uns know he was home on a furlough last November.” A request to produce the letter was met with the reply, “The chillun tore it up.”
The search of the barn was again renewed by the men, and the loft was searched with the aid of a ladder from the outside. It was found to be filled with fodder, hay and grass, and prodding with poles and forks convinced the parties that there was no chance for any one to be hiding under same.
Very much mystified, and yet satisfied by the demeanor and sullen manner of the father, mother and sister that Dan was somewhere close, the Special Agent divided his men, leaving part of them to watch, while the others sought for outside information.
Mr.W——, a Deputy Sheriff of Tuscaloosa County, had been trying to locate Dan for ten months, and had watched continuously as much as ten days at one time, both house and barn. A number of searches prior to the arrival of the A. P. L. squad, made in and around the mines of the different operating companies, had given no clue. One thing was certain, however: nearly everybody in the district was related to him, due to the intermarriage during several generations of the people, and, as usual, there were some of his own kin-folks who would “shore like to see him pulled.”
At last, the patience of the party being exhausted, and feeling sure that Dan was somewhere, either about the house or barn, the father, WilliamD——, and the mother, and a sister, who had denied any relationship to Dan, were told positively either to surrender him or go to jail. They asked for time, and it was refused. They pleaded for the officers to come again to-morrow. This also was refused. After pleading again to give them till afternoon, they finally asked one of the League operators to a conference behind the house with the mother and father. They then renewed their pleadings for time, but finally agreed to show the hiding place of their son and deliver him to the party, as they now realized that the “U. S. was a blame sight stronger than kin-folks who were liable to split on you at any minute.”
The father was then accompanied to the barn. He knocked on the wall of the barn and said, “Come down, son!” Almost immediately a wide plank in the floor of the barn loft, almost over the heads of the astonished men, mysteriously arose from its resting place, revealing the most unique and simple hiding place imaginable. It was nothing more or less than a box, about as large as a good sized coffin, in which there were bed clothes, food and water. The box was cut to fit the joists, hiding all joints, and being apparent from below as a part of the loft floor. It was covered with fodder and hay above, the occupant using one loose plank of the box as his trap door. When occupied, it would naturally be as tight as any other part of the floor. Later, the party saw a hole dug out under the cow stall which he had occupied untilhis more palatial quarters in the coffin box had been provided.
The District was noted in years gone by as the “favorite stamping ground of Jim Morrison and kindred outlawed spirits.” Most of the inhabitants of the surrounding country are employed in the mining of brown iron ore, which is taken out of large open cuts and washed by machinery and shipped to the furnaces of the Birmingham district. Nearly all of the labor, black and white, are the descendants of small farmers of Tuscaloosa County and the southern part of Jefferson County. Many of them still carry on farming in a small way, and the region has long been famous for its smooth and creamy “moonshine,” which in some mysterious way still continues to be made. It was for many years a favorite pastime of old Judge Shackelford, who lived and died in sight of theD——home, to mix his corn juice in an old sugar bowl while dispensing justice in the good old way. Shortly after the events narrated here, the sheriff of the county was murdered in cold blood on the village street by one of the outlaws of the section.
Two other interesting cases handled by the Birmingham Division concerned two brothers,S——andR——. S—— deserted from Camp Pike, Arkansas, October 5, 1917, andR——from Camp Mills, N. Y., September 25, 1917. The peculiar part of the case was that whileS——was listed as a deserter, the War Department had no record ofR——deserting, though they were advised that he was in this section of the country and efforts were made to check the records. While their desertions took place the latter part of 1917, it was not until August, 1918, that Operative No. 202 of the Birmingham Division received confidential information that both men were in Shelby County, Alabama, making moonshine whiskey, which they were selling to the miners and also to citizens in Bessemer, Alabama, a town thirteen miles southwest of Birmingham.
A party was organized to go after them, but unfortunately missed them by four days, the brothers and their family having moved elsewhere. Operative continued giving the case active attention, and finally information was secured that the brothers were in Coosa County, Alabama.Arrangements for automobiles having been made over long distance, a party of A. P. L. men, six in number, headed by Agent Crawford of the Department of Justice, left Birmingham at 3:50 P. M. Thursday, November 7 (the day made famous by the premature Armistice celebration), arriving at Goodwater about 6:00 P. M.
After supper they were met by two 100 per cent American volunteers with automobiles, and were driven about five miles beyond Goodwater. The latter informed them of the danger of arousing these parties by going over the regular road, on account of dogs barking, so they left the machines about two miles away from the cabin they were seeking and detoured over a large hill, in the dark and cold, to get to the cabin. The report says:
The humorous part of it was that, in spite of our precautions, the “hound dawgs” treed us about a mile from the place and certainly let forth unearthly baying. By the time we reached and surrounded the cabin, the entire household was aroused. Again we seemed doomed to disappointment, for we were informed that the parties we sought had left there just four days before—the same length of time by which we missed them in Shelby County.After exploring the country in the immediate vicinity we finally secured a tip that the brothers were near another town about forty miles away, so we regained the machines and returned to Goodwater, arriving there about 10:30 p. m. Feeling that perhaps some word might reach the parties that we were after them, if we postponed the trip, our drivers, after much discussion finally agreed to drive us to Kellyton, Alabama, about ten miles from Goodwater, to a man who ran a jitney line. It was the coldest night of the year, with only the stars as light. Finally we reached Kellyton, shortly after midnight, and while two of us were arousing the jitney man the others collected leaves and firewood and in a few minutes had a roaring fire by the roadside to warm our frozen extremities.Until we acquainted the jitney man with the urgency of the matter, he demurred about getting out in the cold, saying he had only two Ford cars and would have to depend on a thirteen-year-old son to drive the second car of the two. He was persuaded to take us over the thirty miles of rough country roads, with our drivers rather uncertain of the correct route.We reached Wadley, Alabama, about five o’clock in the morning. Some coffee filled a long-felt want and in a few minuteswe were ready again. Further investigation, at Abanda, developed the fact that the two suspects were with their family, who had just moved in a country house about a mile distant from the town. This house was in a hollow, off the road, well shielded from view, and the surroundings made it an ideal place for those seeking seclusion. Bearing in mind the fact that in the rural districts most every one is suspicious of strangers, we duly surrounded the house about 6:30 A. M. At a signal the house was rushed and the men were in the center passage of the house before the occupants were aware of their presence. Hearing the noise, the mother opened the door to one of the rooms and looked out. Seeing these strange men, she tried to close the door, but was prevented from doing so by one of the men who stuck his foot in the opening. On being questioned the mother denied that the boys were there.The house was the usual country cabin, with rooms on each side and a hall down the middle, so while the two members were forcing the door where the mother was, Agent Crawford broke in the door across the hall and discovered the two brothers on pallets on the floor. They were promptly covered before they had a chance to use their pump guns, though search revealed three of the guns fully loaded and placed for convenient use. Also, an extra box of cartridges was found with the top off. Had it not been for the quickness with which we worked, trouble would doubtless have ensued, as the reputation of these men was that they shot first and asked questions afterward. One member of the family had the reputation of killing at least two men and had they been given a chance they would have resisted.The boys were ordered to dress and placed under arrest. Both of these men were big, strapping fellows, weighing about 175 pounds apiece, and each of them six feet tall. They had no dependents, so there was absolutely no excuse for their failure to serve their country. It usually is the case in the rural districts of the South that nearly everyone is related to everybody else, and all are “quick on the trigger” if they think their relatives are being sought. It is interesting to mention that the house where we captured the brothers had new barbed wire fencing almost completely surrounding it, as if they expected a little trench warfare of their own. Though we have handled numerous other cases, I believe the circumstances surrounding this particular one will long linger in the memory of those composing the party.
The humorous part of it was that, in spite of our precautions, the “hound dawgs” treed us about a mile from the place and certainly let forth unearthly baying. By the time we reached and surrounded the cabin, the entire household was aroused. Again we seemed doomed to disappointment, for we were informed that the parties we sought had left there just four days before—the same length of time by which we missed them in Shelby County.
After exploring the country in the immediate vicinity we finally secured a tip that the brothers were near another town about forty miles away, so we regained the machines and returned to Goodwater, arriving there about 10:30 p. m. Feeling that perhaps some word might reach the parties that we were after them, if we postponed the trip, our drivers, after much discussion finally agreed to drive us to Kellyton, Alabama, about ten miles from Goodwater, to a man who ran a jitney line. It was the coldest night of the year, with only the stars as light. Finally we reached Kellyton, shortly after midnight, and while two of us were arousing the jitney man the others collected leaves and firewood and in a few minutes had a roaring fire by the roadside to warm our frozen extremities.
Until we acquainted the jitney man with the urgency of the matter, he demurred about getting out in the cold, saying he had only two Ford cars and would have to depend on a thirteen-year-old son to drive the second car of the two. He was persuaded to take us over the thirty miles of rough country roads, with our drivers rather uncertain of the correct route.
We reached Wadley, Alabama, about five o’clock in the morning. Some coffee filled a long-felt want and in a few minuteswe were ready again. Further investigation, at Abanda, developed the fact that the two suspects were with their family, who had just moved in a country house about a mile distant from the town. This house was in a hollow, off the road, well shielded from view, and the surroundings made it an ideal place for those seeking seclusion. Bearing in mind the fact that in the rural districts most every one is suspicious of strangers, we duly surrounded the house about 6:30 A. M. At a signal the house was rushed and the men were in the center passage of the house before the occupants were aware of their presence. Hearing the noise, the mother opened the door to one of the rooms and looked out. Seeing these strange men, she tried to close the door, but was prevented from doing so by one of the men who stuck his foot in the opening. On being questioned the mother denied that the boys were there.
The house was the usual country cabin, with rooms on each side and a hall down the middle, so while the two members were forcing the door where the mother was, Agent Crawford broke in the door across the hall and discovered the two brothers on pallets on the floor. They were promptly covered before they had a chance to use their pump guns, though search revealed three of the guns fully loaded and placed for convenient use. Also, an extra box of cartridges was found with the top off. Had it not been for the quickness with which we worked, trouble would doubtless have ensued, as the reputation of these men was that they shot first and asked questions afterward. One member of the family had the reputation of killing at least two men and had they been given a chance they would have resisted.
The boys were ordered to dress and placed under arrest. Both of these men were big, strapping fellows, weighing about 175 pounds apiece, and each of them six feet tall. They had no dependents, so there was absolutely no excuse for their failure to serve their country. It usually is the case in the rural districts of the South that nearly everyone is related to everybody else, and all are “quick on the trigger” if they think their relatives are being sought. It is interesting to mention that the house where we captured the brothers had new barbed wire fencing almost completely surrounding it, as if they expected a little trench warfare of their own. Though we have handled numerous other cases, I believe the circumstances surrounding this particular one will long linger in the memory of those composing the party.
The Local Agent of the Department of Justice at Birmingham had many times received information that therewere a number of deserters and delinquents in the swamps of Pickens County, Alabama. The local office there being unable to cope with the situation, on Monday, December 10, a D. J. man, RobertB——, went to Gordo to secure information as to the location of these men. The information was secured. Mr.B——then proceeded to Tuscaloosa where he called the Special Agent over long distance phone asking that eight A. P. L. men be sent to join him in Tuscaloosa. Eight picked men of the A. P. L. assembled, and with three high power automobiles, left Birmingham at 9:00 A. M., December 11, arriving in Tuscaloosa at noon. At four o’clock the party left Tuscaloosa, going to a point two miles from Gordo where deputy sheriffD——met the party.D——was thoroughly familiar with the surrounding country.
Leaving the automobiles about two miles from the first house that was to be covered, the party very quietly surrounded the house, not overlooking the barn and out houses. They had been informed that the alleged deserter had been staying at this house, the owner being his step father. The whole place was searched, no evidence being found. The step father and young brother were put under arrest. This, however, failed to accomplish the desired result. The mother was in her bed, an old-time, worn-out umbrella beside her. Before the Assistant Chief could catch her hand, a heavy blow was accurately placed on his head, the old lady remarking, “I am damn tired of all this foolishness!” She was gently relieved of the umbrella and convinced that the bed was the place for her.
A younger daughter, about the age of fifteen, left the house at this time by a back entrance and ran a mile to another step brother’s house, with the evident intention of notifying her step brother who was wanted. This was the undoing of the A. P. L., as far as this deserter was concerned. Another step brother of the deserter, however, was placed under arrest, handcuffed and brought to jail for harboring a deserter. Operatives discovered notices that had been put on different houses in the locality of this deserter, one of them reading: “You are talking too damn much. The first thing you know the sun will rise under your house.”
The party then proceeded to the house of another deserter. The house as usual was surrounded. One of the operatives discovered an open window with a blind, the window being about two feet square. While a search light and a good gun guarded the entrance, AgentB——and an A. P. L. operative crawled through this opening in the room. After awakening the occupants, a deserter and the mother of another deserter were found. The deserter was forced to dress. The mother was closely questioned regarding her son, and finally agreed that if she would be allowed to go alone, she would bring him to us. This was agreed to. She was watched and in about fifteen minutes she brought her son, who was a deserter, and also her husband. It was discovered that the son and father were sleeping in a ditch about one hundred yards from the house. They had bed clothing, and slept in the open air with the sky for a roof. These two also were handcuffed and brought to jail.
The most interesting case on this trip was the capture of another deserter who had been away from camp for over a year. He and his wife, it is alleged, had sworn that he would never be taken alive. The information was that they had bought a lot in the community cemetery where they were to be buried together. Arriving at the house of the deserter at 2:15 A. M., the house was covered and each operative given detailed instructions. The deserter was called to the open door, and was warned not to offer resistance, as his house was fully surrounded. When told he was wanted by Uncle Sam’s men, he opened his door and offered no resistance, stating that he had made up his mind to surrender to government officers, but not to the local officers. Judging from the weapons that he had by his bed, he evidently meant what he had said. He too was handcuffed and brought to jail. The total mileage of this trip was two hundred and sixteen miles, all without a scratch to car or man.
Lexington, North Carolina, was in this same mountain country which furnished so considerable a number of deserters during the war. It is a strange thing to say, but perhaps the largest numbers of deserters were found in the most American and most loyal part of the country—thatis to say, the South, where there was almost no alien population. The only pure-bred American population in the United States was the very element which seemed unwilling to support the war! This, however, is a statement which needs full explanation. Let the Chief of Lexington make that explanation in the story of one case.
TomB——was a Tar-Heel tie hacker and lived in the mountains of North Carolina, twenty-six miles from a railroad. He could neither read nor write, but was straight and strong, and to see him swing a broad-axe was worth a trip into the mountains. When Tom heard of the draft he did not understand it. He had led a life of peaceful seclusion. There were two old Germans over at the railroad that ran a store, but Tom could work up no enthusiasm about crossing the Atlantic to kill people of that sort. But the draft came and many of Tom’s meantime friends disappeared. It seemed inexplicable to him. He did not want to go to war with anybody and did not understand why there was any war. The solution of his problem at last came to him.
His people had come to these mountain fastnesses because there they found that liberty of thought and action which all our early Americans longed for; but now into that freedom of action there came some intangible influence which he could not understand. Tom simply resolved to march into the forest as his great-grandfather had done. He “stepped back into the brush” for the duration of the war. For him this was the only natural solution for a problem he did not understand. In this way he could escape what seemed to him oppression and impairment of the liberty which he held more dear than life. So he made the usual arrangements. Food would be left for him at a certain spot by his people. If anyone came in looking for Tom, his people would put up a smoke signal so he would understand. Meantime, Tom continued his work in a tie camp, his squirrel rifle leaning against a tree. When he finished his work, he “stepped back” into deep laurel and was lost as though he had gone up into smoke. His decision, having been taken, would remain unshakable even unto death. He said, “I reckon I made up my mind, and I’d ruther die here than in Germany.”
Let us consider the situation. Here is TomB——, anAmerican of native blood, afraid of nothing that rides, walks or swims, willing to fight his weight in wildcats to defend the freedom and liberty of his native hills—and he is a fugitive from justice. Now, how can the A. P. L. save that man from the consequence of his folly?
He was saved. As soon as the Chief heard of Tom B——’s disappearance, he packed his timber cruising kit and went out into Tom’s country. At night he reached the cabin of Uncle John Coggins, who knew everybody in that neck of the woods and whose word was law. Uncle John knew what was up, but he said nothing—only kept his small blue eyes fixed on the visitor. After they had finished their meal, the two went out and sat on a log in the sun, in the middle of a clearing where no one could approach without being seen in time.
“I understand,” remarked the Chief casually, “that Tom has stepped back into the brush.”
No sign from Uncle John that he had heard anything. Tom’s name was not mentioned again.
Then the talk was shifted to the war and other things. The chief tried to explain to Uncle John the problem of raising the army. He tried to bring home the war, across the thousands of miles of sea and land, to this old man sitting on a log in the western North Carolina mountains. He pointed out the purpose and the manifest fairness of selective service, taking all alike from all ranks.
Then they talked about the weather and the crops and the soaring price of corn “likker” and the growing scarcity of good white oak timber. The Chief went away. Uncle John, when he said good-bye, understood perfectly why the visitor had come to his cabin.
Several days later Uncle John appeared in the office of the Chief. He drew up a chair and remarked, “Howdy,” and sat gazing at the other man with about as much animation as an Egyptian mummy. Only his little snappy eyes under the bushy brows told of his alertness. The conversation was again about the weather, the crops, the soaring price of corn “likker” and the growing scarcity of good white oak timber. At length Uncle John hitched his chair closer.
“I kinda tho’t you all mought wanter know ’bout TomB——,” he said. “I’ve done been out whar Tom is a-settin’ back, an’ he seed how hit is—an’ he’s a-comin’ in!” The Chief of the A. P. L. nodded. The thing was settled. They smoked for a time, discussed the weather, the crops, the soaring price of corn “likker” and the growing scarcity of good white oak timber. Tom’s name was not mentioned again. The Chief spoke quite casually of a few details that would naturally attend Tom’s “comin’ in.” Uncle John said he would attend to those matters. A little later he went away. And by and by TomB——came in and joined the Army.
These Southern leaders understood the mountain people. Their method of work was infinitely more simple than sending a posse out into the brush to round up a desperate man who knew how to shoot to kill. There were characters who needed other methods; but among the boys in the mountains, ignorance and aloofness were the common causes of their “stepping back into the brush.” To have called any one of them afraid to fight would have been the deepest insult possible to men of their race. Once in the army, they did fight—the records of the Army will speak as to that. There never were better or braver soldiers in the world, nor men more loyal and devoted to their country.
Olympia, Washington, had an interesting case of a deserter namedG——, whose father made the statement that anyone who took the boy would have to come shooting. The house was searched but the boy was gone. The A. P. L. operative later became a game warden, and while traveling in the country ran across an empty cabin. As it was known that the boy’s father had taken out a trapper’s license, they thought that perhaps this cabin might be occupied by the deserter. It was in a swamp, built under overhanging trees, so it was almost impossible to find. There was no trail to the cabin, as the boy did not go in and out in any regular way but took different paths to avoid discovery. The operative and an associate went into the woods, foundG——’s line of traps, followed them up and captured him in the woods. This deserter’s family would not buy Liberty bonds but said they would save their money for ammunition. The prompt and vigorousaction of A. P. L. closed a case which was notorious in the vicinity.
A study of the reports of operatives engaged in League activities at the busy Birmingham Division, and indeed all over the country, shows an astonishing lack of anything like personal violence. It never could be told, however, where such an instance might break out. Only two or three cases of killing in the course of duty are recorded in the thousands of cases handled. One of these comes from a quiet little farming village, Morris, Illinois, about the last place in the world where anything of the sort might have been expected. It resulted in the shooting down, in the uniform of our Army, of Private A. J. K——, Company D.,U. S.Infantry, a deserter from Rock Island arsenal.K——had escaped from confinement at Rock Island with Corporal GeorgeS——. Acting SheriffS——, who also was Chief of the A. P. L. at Morris, accompanied by Chief of PoliceA——, had been advised to be on the lookout for two deserters who were reported to be bad men.
The two men were on top of a box car when a train pulled into town, and were accosted by the Sheriff. They claimed to be government guards, and were asked to show their papers. A weapon was seen inS——’s pocket. The other man, still on the top of the car, covered the two peace officers and ordered them to keep away or he would shoot. At last the Sheriff managed to get the drop on him before he fired, but meantime the train began to pull out, so no shooting ensued at that time.
Morris wired Joliet to arrest the soldiers when the train got in. The man hunt now was on, because other officers down the valley reported the men wanted for desertion. The two fugitives left the train at Durkee’s Crossing and hid in the woods near the tracks. The Sheriff got a posse and following down the track, located the men and surrounded the wood where they were concealed. The chief got up toS——unnoticed, covered him with a rifle and told him to come along, which he did. He then asked S—— where the other man was.
Just then,K——, who had not been seen, called to the officer to drop the gun or he would shoot. Somethreatening talk ensued on both sides andK——advanced, the officer still commanding him to drop his gun as he was under arrest.K——, in turn, demanded that the chief should drop his rifle, holding him covered fair all the time. The Chief then called for his men to fire. Patrolman Wm.M——fired onK——with his rifle, and K——dropped. He did not die immediately, and was taken to the hospital in Morris that night. The patrolman’s bullet passed through his left shoulder, cut through the lung, and lodged near the heart.K——refused to talk. His companion talked more freely, and said that K—— was bad and had had a shooting difficulty in West Virginia. They had both been in confinement, and had escaped with the intention of going back to West Virginia. He said thatK——“was the best shot in the regiment, and was a ‘killer.’” That the A. P. L. Chief was not himself killed is nothing less than a marvel.