"Five hundred dollars will be paid for any information leading up to the identification of the party who robbed William G. Pollock on the Sioux City and Pacific train, November 4, 1892.
"Five hundred dollars will be paid for any information leading up to the identification of the party who robbed William G. Pollock on the Sioux City and Pacific train, November 4, 1892.
"William A. Pinkerton,
"Paxton House, Omaha, Nebraska."
This at once attracted the attention of the local newspaper-men, and when Mr. Pinkerton arrived in Omaha he was interviewed by all the papers in the city in regard to the robbery. Thus interest in the robbery was at once renewed. Denton and the other persons under suspicion commenced talking of the matter again, none more freely than Hooker.
The latter was then in Denver. Mr. Pinkerton instructed Mr. James McParland, Denver superintendent of the Pinkerton Agency, to send for him, and say to him that he had understood that he (Hooker) could throw some light on the robbery, and that a large sum of money would be paid him for the information he gave. Mr. Pinkerton explained to Mr. McParland that Hooker would lie to him and endeavor to get the money by giving him false information, but to listen patiently to what he had to say and lead him on as far as possible without giving him any money. This done, Mr. Pinkerton further predicted that Hooker would go back to his cronies and boast of the way he was fooling Pinkerton and how much money he expected to get; and that eventually, through his boastings, he would prove the means of locating Burke,aliasMcCoy.
And so, precisely, it fell out. Some of Hooker's companions were Pinkertondetectives, although Hooker did not know them as such, and they in time reported back that Burke was really the Pollock robber; that after committing the robbery he had gone back to Omaha, and from there had gone to Denver. From Denver he went to Salt Lake, and visited a prisoner in the Salt Lake penitentiary with whom he was intimate, gave this prisoner some money, and went from Salt Lake west to the Pacific coast.
Mr. Pinkerton next instructed that the record be examined for daring "hold-ups" that might have occurred in the country lately traversed by Burke. It was then found that a faro-bank at Colorado City, a small place between Manitou Springs and Colorado Springs, had been entered late at night by a masked robber, who compelled the dealer and other persons to hold up their hands, took the money in the drawer, and escaped; that later on a similar robbery had been perpetrated at San Bernardino, California;that later still the pool-rooms of James Malone, a noted gambler at Tacoma, Washington, had been treated in the same manner; and, finally, that a light or pane of glass in a jewelry store at Sacramento had been broken in and a tray of diamonds snatched from the window by a daring thief. And all of these deeds, Mr. Pinkerton learned ultimately through Hooker's talk, had been done by Burke.
The watch on Denton at Omaha developed little, if anything, except that a close companionship existed between him and the Omaha pawnbroker.
During the summer of 1893, learning that an intimate friend of Burke's, a burglar who had been in prison with him in the Utah penitentiary, was confined in jail at Georgetown, Texas, Mr. Pinkerton decided to go and interview this man, and see if he could get any trace, through him, of the robber. In the meantime he instructed the detectives at Omahaand Denver to keep a particularly close watch on Jack Denton and Hooker.
On Mr. Pinkerton's arrival at Austin, Texas, he found awaiting him despatches from Superintendent McParland of the Denver agency, stating that through Hooker's talk they had learned that "Kid" McCoy, or Burke, had been arrested at Eagle, Colorado, with a kit of burglar tools in his possession, and was then in jail at Leadville, Colorado.
Mr. Pinkerton at once telegraphed to have conductor Ashmore and Mr. Shaw, the well-digger, go to Leadville and see if they could identify the prisoner. Word was also sent to New York for Mr. Pollock to do the same. He also instructed Superintendent McParland at Denver to send his assistant, J. C. Fraser, to watch the case, so that if McCoy gave bail, or attempted to escape from the Leadville jail, they could be ready with a warrant for his arrest on account of the Pollock robbery.
Having wired these instructions, Mr. Pinkerton proceeded on his journey to Georgetown, Texas, where he called on McCoy's former prison associate in the Utah penitentiary, but was unable to get him to tell anything about McCoy, though he volunteered, if Mr. Pinkerton would furnish him a bond and get him out of his Texas scrape, to go to Omaha and compel the "fence" who had received the diamonds to turn back the property. But the rule of the Jewelers' Protective Union was to get the thief first and the property afterward; so no treaty was made with the Texas prisoner.
Mr. Pinkerton now went to Kansas City, and found awaiting him there despatches from Superintendent McParland of the Denver agency, stating that conductor Ashmore and Messrs. Shaw and Pollock had positively identified the prisoner James Burke,alias"Kid" McCoy, as the man who assaulted Mr. Pollock and robbed him of his diamonds.
Burke winced perceptibly when he saw conductor Ashmore and Mr. Shaw, and went fairly wild when confronted by Mr. Pollock. Requisition papers were obtained from the governor of the State of Iowa on the governor of Colorado, and the Colorado offense being a minor one, Burke was turned over to Assistant Superintendent Fraser and another detective, to be taken to Logan, Harrison County, Iowa. Before leaving Leadville, Mr. Fraser was confidentially warned by the sheriff of the county that he could not be too careful of his prisoner; for that Burke, through a friend of the sheriff, had made a proposition to the latter to pay him a thousand dollars if he would secretly furnish him with a revolver when he left the jail, his design being, with this revolver, to either "hold up" or kill the two detectives who had himin custody and make his escape from the train.
On trial at Logan, Iowa, the man was easily convicted, and was sentenced to imprisonment for a term of seventeen years.
ROBERT A. PINKERTONROBERT A. PINKERTON
T
he through express on the Rock Island road left Chicago at 10:45 P. M., on March 12, 1886, with twenty-two thousand dollars in fifty- and one-hundred-dollar bills in the keeping of Kellogg Nichols, an old-time messenger of the United States Express Company. This sum had been sent by a Chicago bank to be delivered at the principal bank in Davenport, Iowa. In addition to the usual passenger-coaches, the train drew two express-cars: the first, for express only, just behind the engine; and, following this, one for express and baggage. These cars had end doors, which offer the best opportunity to train robbers.Messenger Nichols was in the first car, and was duly at his work when the train stopped at Joliet, a town about forty miles west of Chicago. But at the next stop, which was made at Morris, Harry Schwartz, a brakeman, came running from Nichols's car, crying, "The messenger is dead."
The messenger's lifeless body was found lying on the floor of the car. The head had been crushed by some heavy weapon, and there was a pistol-wound in the right shoulder. Apparently he had been overcome only after a hard fight. His face was set with fierce determination. His fists were clenched, and the hands and fingers cut and scratched in a curious way, while under the nails were found what proved to be bits of human flesh. The pistol-wound was from a weapon of 32 caliber; but it was not the cause of the man's death. This, unmistakably, was the blow, or blows, on the head, probably after the shot was fired. All whoknew messenger Nichols were surprised at the desperate resistance he seemed to have made, for he was a small, light man, not more than five feet five in height, nor weighing over one hundred and thirty pounds, and of no great credit among his fellows for pluck and courage.
The express-car was immediately detached from the train, and left at Morris, guarded by all the train-crew except Schwartz, who was sent on with the train to Davenport. After the first cursory inspection no one was allowed to enter the car where Nichols lay; and nothing was known precisely as to the extent of the robbery. The safe-door had been found open and the floor of the car littered with the contents of the safe.
An urgent telegram was at once sent to Chicago, and a force of detectives arrived at Morris on a special train a few hours later. Search-parties were at once sent out in all directions along the country roads, and up and down the tracks.Hundreds of people joined in the search, for the news of the murder spread rapidly through the whole region, and not a square yard of territory for miles between Morris and Minooka station was left unexplored. It happened that the ground was covered with snow, but the keenest scrutiny failed to reveal any significant footprints, and the search-parties returned after many hours, having made only a single discovery. This was a mask found in a cattle-guard near Minooka—a mask made of black cloth, with white strings fastened at either side, one of which had been torn out of the cloth as if in a struggle.
Meantime Mr. Pinkerton himself entered the car and made a careful investigation. His first discovery was a heavy poker, bearing stains of blood and bits of matted hair. It was hanging in its usual place, behind the stove. The significance of this last fact was great, in Mr. Pinkerton's opinion; from it he concluded thatthe crime had been committed by a railroad man, his reasoning being that the poker could have been restored to its usual place after such a use only mechanically and from force of habit and that an assailant who was not a railroad man would have left it on the floor or thrown it away.
Coming to the safe, Mr. Pinkerton found that the twenty-two thousand dollars were missing, and that other papers had been hastily searched over, but left behind as valueless.
Among these was a bundle of canceled drafts that had been roughly torn open and then thrown aside. Mr. Pinkerton scarcely noticed at the moment, but had occasion to remember subsequently, that a small piece of one of these drafts was missing, as if a corner had been torn off.
All the train-hands were immediately questioned, but none of their stories was in any way significant, except that of Newton Watt, the man in charge of thesecond car. He said that while busy counting over his way-bills and receipts he had been startled by the crash of broken glass in the ventilator overhead, and that at the same moment a heavily built man, wearing a black mask, had entered the car and said, "If you move, the man up there will bore you." Looking up, Watt said further, he saw a hand thrust through the broken glass and holding a revolver. Thus intimidated, he made no attempt to give an alarm, and the masked man presently left him under guard of the pistol overhead, which covered him until shortly before the train reached Morris, when it was withdrawn. He was able to locate the place where the crime must have been committed, as he remembered that the engine was whistling for Minooka when the stranger entered the car. This left about thirty minutes for the murder, robbery, and escape.
Returning to Chicago, Mr. Pinkertoninvestigated the character of the man Watt, and found that he had a clean record, was regarded as a trusty and efficient man, and had three brothers who had been railroad men for years and had always given perfect satisfaction. Watt's good reputation and straightforward manner were strong points in his favor, and yet there was something questionable in his story of the mysterious hand. For one thing, no footprints were found in the snow on the top of the car.
Brakeman Schwartz, the only man on the train who had not yet been questioned, "deadheaded" his way, in railway parlance, back from Davenport the following night on conductor Danforth's train, and reported to Mr. Pinkerton the next morning. He was a tall, fine-looking young fellow, about twenty-seven, with thin lips and a face that showed determination. He was rather dapper in dress, and kept on his gloves during the conversation. Mr. Pinkerton receivedhim pleasantly, and, after they had been smoking and chatting for an hour or so, he suggested to Schwartz that he would be more comfortable with his gloves off. Schwartz accordingly removed them, and revealed red marks on the backs of his hands, such as might have been made by finger-nails digging into them.
"How did you hurt your hands, Schwartz?" asked Mr. Pinkerton.
"Oh, I did that handling baggage night before last," explained Schwartz; and then he related incidentally that as he was on his way back to Chicago, the conductor of the train, conductor Danforth, had discovered a valise left by somebody in one of the toilet-rooms. Later in the day Mr. Pinkerton summoned the conductor, who said that the valise was an old one, of no value; and, having no contents, he had thrown it out on an ash-pile. The only thing he had found in the valise was a piece of paperthat attracted his attention because it was marked with red lines.
Examining this piece of paper carefully, Mr. Pinkerton saw that it had been torn from a money-draft, and at once thought of the package in the express messenger's safe. Now it is a remarkable fact that no human power can tear two pieces of paper in exactly the same way; the ragged fibers will only fit perfectly when the two original parts are brought together. There remained no doubt, when this test was made in the present case, that the piece of paper found on conductor Danforth's east-bound train had been torn from the draft in the express-car robbed the night before on the west-bound train. The edges fitted, the red lines corresponded, and unquestionably some one had carried that piece of paper from the one train to the other. In other words, some one connected with the crime of the previous night had ridden back to Chicagotwenty-four hours later with conductor Danforth.
Mr. Pinkerton at once ordered a search made for the missing valise, and also an inquiry regarding the passengers who had ridden on conductor Danforth's train between Davenport and Chicago on the night following the murder. The valise was found on the ash-heap where the conductor had thrown it, and in the course of the next few days the detectives had located or accounted for all passengers on conductor Danforth's train, with the exception of one man who had ridden on a free pass. The conductor could only recall this man's features vaguely; and, while some of the passengers remembered him well enough, there was no clue to his name or identity. As it appeared that no other of the passengers could have been connected with the crime, efforts were redoubled to discover the holder of this pass.
So great was the public interest in the crime and the mystery surrounding it that three separate, well-organized investigations of it were undertaken. The Rock Island Railroad officials, with their detectives, conducted one; a Chicago newspaper, the "Daily News," with its detectives, another; and the Pinkertons, in the interest of the United States Express Company, a third.
Mr. Pinkerton, as we have seen, concluded that the crime had been committed by railway men. The railway officials were naturally disinclined to believe ill of their employees, and an incident occurred about this time which turned the investigation in an entirely new direction and made them the more disposed to discredit Mr. Pinkerton's theory. This was the receipt of a letter from a convict in the Michigan City penitentiary, named Plunkett, who wrotethe Rock Island Railroad officials, saying that he could furnish them with important information.
Mr. St. John, the general manager of the road, went in person to the penitentiary to take Plunkett's statement, which was in effect that he knew the men who had committed the robbery and killed Nichols, and was willing to sell this information in exchange for a full pardon, which the railroad people could secure by using their influence. This they promised to do if his story proved true, and Plunkett then told them of a plot that had been worked out a year or so before, when he had been "grafting" with a "mob" of pickpockets at county fairs. There were with him at that time "Butch" McCoy, James Connors (known as "Yellowhammer"), and a man named "Jeff," whose surname he did not know. These three men, Plunkett said, had planned an express robbery on the Rock Island road, to be executed in preciselythe same way, and at precisely the same point on the road, as in the case in question.
The story was plausible, and won Mr. St. John's belief. It won the belief, also, of Mr. Melville E. Stone of the "Daily News"; and forthwith the railway detectives, working with the newspaper detectives, were instructed to go ahead on new lines, regardless of trouble or expense. Their first endeavor was to capture "Butch" McCoy, the leader of the gang. "Butch" was a pickpocket, burglar, and all-around thief, whose operations kept him traveling all over the United States.
The police in various cities having been communicated with to no purpose, Mr. Stone finally decided to do a thing the like of which no newspaper proprietor, perhaps, ever undertook before—that is, start on a personal search for McCoy and his associates. With Frank Murray, one of the best detectives in Chicago, andother detectives, he went to Galesburg, where the gang was said to have a sort of headquarters. The party found there none of the men they were after, but they learned that "Thatch" Grady, a notorious criminal with whom "Butch" McCoy was known to be in relations, was in Omaha. So they hurried to Omaha, but only to find that Grady had gone to St. Louis. Then to St. Louis went Mr. Stone and his detectives, hot on the scent, and spent several days in that city searching high and low.
The method of locating a criminal in a great city is as interesting as it is little understood. The first step is to secure from the local police information as to the favorite haunts of criminals of the class under pursuit, paying special regard in the preliminary inquiries to the possibility of love-affairs; for thieves, even more than honest men, are swayed in their lives by the tender passion, and are often brought to justice through theagency of women. With so much of such information in their possession as they could gather, Mr. Stone and his detectives spent their time in likely resorts, picking up acquaintance with frequenters, and, whenever possible, turning the talk adroitly upon the man they were looking for. It is a mistake to suppose that in work like this detectives disguise themselves. False beards and mustaches, goggles and lightning changes of clothing, are never heard of except in the pages of badly informed story-writers. In his experience of over twenty-five years Mr. Murray never wore such a disguise, nor knew of any reputable detective who did. In this expedition the detectives simply assumed the characters and general style of the persons they were thrown with, passing for men of sporting tastes from the East; and, having satisfied the people they met that they meant no harm, they had no difficulty in obtaining such news of McCoy and the others asthere was. Unfortunately, this was not much.
After going from one city to another on various clues, hearing of one member of the gang here and another there, and in each instance losing their man, the detectives finally brought up in New Orleans. They had spent five or six weeks of time and a large amount of money, only to find themselves absolutely without a clue as to the whereabouts of the men they were pursuing. They were much discouraged when a telegram from Mr. Pinkerton told them that "Butch" McCoy was back in Galesburg, where they had first sought him. Proceeding thither with all despatch, they traced McCoy into a saloon, and there three of them,—John Smith, representing the Rock Island Railroad; John McGinn, for the Pinkerton Agency; and Frank Murray, working for Mr. Stone,—with drawn revolvers, captured him, in spite of a desperate dash he made to escape.
McCoy's capture was the occasion of much felicitation among the people interested in the matter. Mr. St. John and Mr. Stone were confident that now the whole mystery of the express robbery could be solved and the murderer convicted. But McCoy showed on trial that he had left New Orleans to come North only the night before the murder and had spent the whole of that night on the Illinois Central Railroad. It also appeared that McCoy's associate, Connors, was in jail at the time of the robbery, and that the man "Jeff" was dead. Thus the whole Plunkett story was exploded.
Some time before this the man who had ridden on the free pass, and given the detectives so much trouble, had been accidentally found by Jack Mullins, a brakeman on conductor Danforth's train. He proved to be an advertising solicitor,employed by no other than Mr. Melville E. Stone, who would have given a thousand dollars to know what his agent knew; for the advertising man had seen the conductor bring out the valise containing the all-important fragment of the draft. But he had not realized the value of the news in his possession, and Mr. Pinkerton took good care to keep him from that knowledge. One hint of the truth to the "Daily News" people, and the whole story would have been blazoned forth in its columns, and the murderer would have taken warning. Not until he had seen the man safely on a train out from Chicago did Mr. Pinkerton breathe easily; and it was not until months later that Mr. Stone learned how near he came to getting a splendid "scoop" on the whole city and country.
The identification of the pass-holder removed the last possibility that the valise had been taken into the train byany of conductor Danforth's passengers. And yet the valise was there! How came it there? In the course of their examination two of the passengers had testified to having seen Schwartz enter the toilet-room during the run. Brakeman Jack Mullins stated that he had been in the same room twice that night, that the second time he had noticed the valise, but that it was not there when he went in first. Other witnesses in the car were positive that the person who entered the room last before the time when Mullins saw the valise was Schwartz. Thus the chain of proof was tightening, and Mr. Pinkerton sent for Schwartz.
After talking with the brakeman in a semi-confidential way for some time, the detective began to question him about Watt, his fellow-trainman. Schwartz said he was a good fellow, and, in general, spoke highly of him. Mr. Pinkerton seemed to hesitate a little, and then said:
"Can I trust you, Schwartz?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, the fact is, I am a little suspicious of Watt. You see, his story about that hand overhead does not exactly hang together. I don't want to do him any wrong, but he must be looked after. Now, my idea is to have you go about with him as much as you can, see if he meets any strangers or spends much money, and let me know whatever happens. Will you do it?"
Schwartz readily consented, on the assurance that the railroad people would give him leave of absence. The next day he reported that Watt had met a man who wore a slouch-hat, had unkempt red hair, and in general looked like a border ruffian. He had overheard the two talking together in a saloon on Cottage Grove Avenue, where the stranger had discussed the murder of Nichols in great detail, showing a remarkable familiarity with the whole affair. Schwartz had a sort of Jesse James theory (whichhe seemed anxious to have accepted) that the crime had been committed by a gang of Western desperados and that this fellow was connected with them.
Mr. Pinkerton listened with interest to all this, but was less edified than Schwartz imagined, since two of his most trusted "shadows," who had been following Schwartz, had given him reports of the latter's movements, making it plain that the red-haired desperado was a myth, and that no such meeting as Schwartz described had taken place. Nevertheless, professing to be well pleased with Schwartz's efforts, Mr. Pinkerton sent him out to track the fabulous desperado. Schwartz continued to render false reports. Finally, without a word to arouse his suspicion, he was allowed to resume his work on the railroad.
The "shadows" put upon Schwartz after this reported a suspicious intimacy between him and Watt, and a detectiveof great tact, Frank Jones, was detailed to get into their confidence, if possible. He was given a "run" as brakeman between Des Moines and Davenport, and it was arranged that he should come in from the west and lay over at Davenport on the same days when Schwartz and Watt laid over there, coming in from the east. Jones played his part cleverly, and was soon on intimate terms with Schwartz and Watt, taking his meals at their boarding-house and sleeping in a room adjoining theirs. They finally came to like him so well that they suggested his trying to get a transfer to their "run," between Davenport and Chicago. This was successfully arranged, and then the three men were together constantly, Jones even going to board at Schwartz's house in Chicago. About this time Schwartz began to talk of giving up railroad work and going to live in Kansas or the far West. It was arranged that Jones should join him andMrs. Schwartz on a Western trip. Meantime Schwartz applied to the company for leave of absence, on the plea that he wished to arrange some family matters in Philadelphia.
Mr. Pinkerton, being informed by Jones of Schwartz's application, used his influence to have it granted. When the young man started East he did not travel alone. His every movement was watched and reported, nor was he left unguarded for a moment, day or night, during an absence of several weeks, in New York, Philadelphia, and other Eastern cities.
To one unfamiliar with the resources and organization of a great detective system it is incomprehensible how continuous "shadowing" day after day and week after week, through thousands of miles of journeying, can be accomplished. The matter is made none the simpler when you know that there must be a change of "shadows" every day.However adroit the detective, his continued presence in a locality would soon arouse suspicion. The daily change of "shadows" is easy when the man under watch remains in one place; for then it is only necessary to send a new "shadow" from the central office early each morning to replace the one who "put the man to bed" the night before. But it is very different when the subject is constantly traveling about on boats or railways, and perhaps sleeping in a different town each night. Without the network of agencies, including large and small bureaus, that the Pinkertons have gradually established all over the United States, the "shadowing" of a man in rapid flight would be impossible. As it is, nothing is easier. Schwartz, for instance, spent several days in Buffalo, where his actions were reported hour by hour until he bought his ticket for Philadelphia. As he took the train a fresh "shadow" took it too, securing asection in the same sleeping-car with him, and taking his meals at the same time Schwartz took his, either in the dining-car or at stations. No sooner had the train left the station than the Pinkerton representative in Buffalo reported by cipher-despatch to the bureau in Philadelphia, whither Schwartz was going. The exact form of the despatch, which well illustrates a system in constant use in the Pinkerton bureaus, was as follows:
"R. J. Linden,
"441 Chestnut Street,
"Philadelphia, Pa.
"Anxious shoes sucker Brown marbles man other dropping eight arrives put grand fifty marbles articles along or derby coat ship very tan seer wearing these have and is ribbon ink dust central Tuesday for dust to rice hat and paper vest yellow ink get must jewelry morning depot on.
"Anxious shoes sucker Brown marbles man other dropping eight arrives put grand fifty marbles articles along or derby coat ship very tan seer wearing these have and is ribbon ink dust central Tuesday for dust to rice hat and paper vest yellow ink get must jewelry morning depot on.
"D. Robertson."
In despatches of this sort important information regarding criminals is constantly flashing over the wires, with no danger of any "leak."
Thus, from one city to another, and through every part of the country, any criminal may be "shadowed" to-day as Schwartz was "shadowed," one set of detectives relieving another every twenty-four hours, and the man's every word and action be carefully noted down and reported, without his having the faintest suspicion that he is under observation. The task of "shadowing" a person who is traversing city streets is intrusted to men especially skilled in the art (for art it is) of seeing without being seen. This is, indeed, one of the most difficult tasks a detective is called upon to perform, and the few who excel in it are given little else to do. Where a criminal like Schwartz, upon whose final capture much depends, is being followed, two, three, or even four "shadows" are employedsimultaneously, one keeping in advance, one in the rear, and two on either side. The advantage of this is that one relieves the other by change of position, thus lessening the chance of discovery, while, of course, it is scarcely possible for several "shadows" to be thrown off the trail at once. An adroit criminal might outwit one "shadow," but he could scarcely outwit four. A "shadow," on coming into a new town with a subject, reveals himself to the "shadow" who is to relieve him by some prearranged signal, like a handkerchief held in the left hand.
The result of the "shadowing" in Schwartz's case was conclusive. No sooner was the brakeman out of Chicago than he began spending money far in excess of his income. He bought fine furniture, expensive clothing, articles of jewelry, presents for his wife, and laid in an elaborate supply of rifles, shot-guns, revolvers, and all sorts of ammunition,including a quantity of cartridges. The "shadows" found that in almost every case he paid for his purchases with fifty-or one-hundred-dollar bills. As far as possible these bills were secured by the detectives from the persons to whom they had been paid, immediately after Schwartz's departure. It will be remembered that the money taken in the robbery consisted of fifty-and one-hundred-dollar bills.
In addition to this, it was found, by the investigations of detectives at Philadelphia, that Schwartz was the son of a wealthy retired butcher there, a most respectable man, and that he had a wife and child in Philadelphia, whom he had entirely deserted. This gave an opportunity to take him into custody and still conceal from him that he was suspected of committing a higher crime. The Philadelphiawife and child were taken on to Chicago, and Schwartz was placed under arrest, charged with bigamy.
Mr. Pinkerton went to the jail at once, and, wishing to keep Schwartz's confidence as far as possible, assured him that this arrest was not his work at all, but that of detectives Smith and Murray, who were, as Schwartz knew, working in the interests of the railroad people and of the Chicago "Daily News." Mr. Pinkerton told Schwartz that he still believed, as he had done all along, that Watt was the guilty man, and promised to do whatever he could to befriend Schwartz. The latter did not appear to be very much alarmed, and said that a Philadelphia lawyer was coming on to defend him. The lawyer did come a few days later, when a bond for two thousand dollars was furnished for Schwartz's reappearance, and he was set at liberty. Matters had gone so far, however, that it was not considered safe to leave Schwartz out ofjail, and he was immediately rearrested on the charge of murder.
Whether because of long preparation for this ordeal or because he was a man of strong character, Schwartz received this blow without the slightest show of emotion, and went back into the jail as coolly as he had come out. He merely requested that he might have an interview with his wife as soon as possible.
Mr. Pinkerton had evidence enough against Schwartz to furnish a strong presumption of guilt; but it was all circumstantial, and, besides, it did not involve Newton Watt, whose complicity was more than suspected. From the first Mr. Pinkerton had been carefully conciliatory of the later Mrs. Schwartz. At just the right moment, and by adroit management, he got her under his direction, and by taking a train with her to Morris, and then on the next morning taking another train back to Chicago, he succeeded in preventing her from gettingthe advice of her husband's lawyer, who was meantime making the same double journey on pursuing trains with the design of cautioning her against speaking to Mr. Pinkerton. She had come to regard Mr. Pinkerton more as a protector than as an enemy, and he, during the hours they were together, used every device to draw from her some damaging admission. He told her that the evidence against her husband, although serious in its character, was not, in his opinion, sufficient to establish his guilt. He told her of the bills found in Schwartz's possession, of the torn piece of the draft taken from the valise, of the marks on his hands and the lies he had told. All this, he said, proved that Schwartz had some connection with the robbery, but not that he had committed the murder, or done more than assist Watt, whom Mr. Pinkerton professed to regard as the chief criminal. The only hope of saving her husband now, he impressed upon her,was for her to make a plain statement of the truth, and trust that he would use this in her husband's interest.
After listening to all that he said, and trying in many ways to evade the main question, Mrs. Schwartz at last admitted to Mr. Pinkerton that her husband had found a package containing five thousand dollars of the stolen money under one of the seats on conductor Danforth's train, on the night of his return to Chicago. He had kept this money and used it for his own purposes, but had been guilty of no other offense in the matter. Mrs. Schwartz stuck resolutely to this statement, and would admit nothing further.
Believing that he had drawn from her as much as he could, Mr. Pinkerton now accompanied Mrs. Schwartz to the jail, where she was to see her husband. The first words she said, on entering the room where he was, were: "Harry, I have told Mr. Pinkerton the whole truth. I thought that was the best way, for he is yourfriend. I told him about your finding the five thousand dollars under the seat of the car, and that that was all you had to do with the business."
For the first time Schwartz's emotions nearly betrayed him. However, he braced himself, and only admitted in a general way that there was some truth in what his wife had said. He refused positively to go into details, seemed very nervous, and almost immediately asked to be left alone with his wife. Mr. Pinkerton had been expecting this, and was prepared for it. He realized the shock that would be caused in Schwartz's mind by his wife's unexpected confession, and counted on this to lead to further admissions. It was, therefore, of the highest importance that credible witnesses should overhear all that transpired in the interview between Schwartz and his wife. With this end in view, the room where the interview was to take place had been arranged so that a number of witnesses could see andhear without their presence being suspected; and the sheriff of the county, a leading merchant, and a leading banker of the town, were waiting there in readiness.
As soon as the door had closed and the husband and wife were left alone, Schwartz exclaimed:
"You fool, you have put a rope around Watt's and my neck!"
"Why, Harry, I had to tell him something, he knew so much. You can trust him."
"You ought to know better than to trust anybody."
The man walked back and forth, a prey to the most violent emotions, his wife trying vainly to quiet him. At each affectionate touch he would brush her off roughly, with a curse, and go on pacing back and forth fiercely. Suddenly he burst out:
"What did you do with that coat—the one you cut the mask out of?"
"Oh, that's all right; it's in the woodshed, under the whole woodpile."
They continued to talk for over an hour, referring to the murder and robbery repeatedly, and furnishing evidence enough to establish beyond any question the guilt of both Schwartz and Watt.
Meantime Watt had been arrested in Chicago, also charged with murder, and in several examinations had shown signs of breaking down and confessing, but in each instance had recovered himself and said nothing. The evidence of Schwartz himself, however, in the interview at the jail, taken with the mass of other evidence that had accumulated, was sufficient to secure the conviction of both men, who were condemned at the trial to life-imprisonment in the Joliet penitentiary. They would undoubtedly have been hanged but for the conscientious scruples of one juryman, who did not believe in capital punishment. Watt has sincedied, but Schwartz, at last accounts, was still in prison.
About a year after the trial Schwartz's Chicago wife died of consumption. On her death-bed she made a full confession. She said that her husband's mind had been inflamed by the constant reading of sensational literature of the dime-novel order; and that under this evil influence he had planned the robbery, believing that it would be easy to intimidate a weak little man like Nichols, and escape with the money without harming him. Nichols, however, had fought like a tiger up and down the car, and had finally forced them to kill him. In the fight he had torn off the mask that Mrs. Schwartz had made out of one of her husband's old coats. It was Watt who fired the pistol, while Schwartz used the poker. Schwartz had given Watt five thousand dollars of the stolen money, and had kept the rest himself. He had carried the money away in an old satchelbought for the purpose. A most unusual place of concealment had been chosen, and one where the money had escaped discovery, although on several occasions, in searching the house, the detectives had literally held it in their hands. Schwartz had taken a quantity of the cartridges he bought for his shot-gun, and emptying them, had put in each shell one of the fifty- or one-hundred-dollar bills, upon which he had then loaded in the powder and the shot in the usual way, so that the shells presented the ordinary appearance as they lay in the drawer. The detectives had even picked out some of the shot and powder in two or three of the shells; but, finding them so like other cartridges, had never thought of probing clear to the bottom of the shell for a crumpled-up bill.
Thus about thirteen thousand dollars lay for weeks in these ordinary-looking cartridges, and were finally removed in the following way: While Schwartz wasin jail, a well-known lawyer of Philadelphia came to Mrs. Schwartz, one day, with an order from her husband to deliver the money over to him. She understood this was to defray the expenses of the trial and to pay the other lawyers. Superintendent Robertson remembers well the dying woman's emotion as she made this solemn declaration, one calculated to compromise seriously a man of some standing and belonging to an honored profession. Her body was wasted with disease, and she knew that her end was near. There was a flush on her face, and her eyes were bright with hatred as she declared that not one dollar of that money was ever returned to her, or ever used in paying the costs of her husband's trial. Nor was one dollar of it ever returned to the railroad company, or to the bank officials, who were the real owners.
T
he first, and probably the most daring, band of train robbers that ever operated in the United States was the notorious Reno gang, an association of desperate outlaws who, in the years immediately following the war, committed crimes without number in Missouri and Indiana, and for some years terrorized several counties in the region about Seymour in the last-named State. The leaders of this band were four brothers, John Reno, Frank Reno, "Sim" Reno, and William Reno, who rivaled one another in a spirit of lawlessness that musthave been born in their blood through the union of a hardy Swiss emigrant with a woman sprung from the Pennsylvania Dutch. Of the six children from this marriage only one escaped the restless, law-despising taint that made the others desperate characters, this single white sheep being "Clint" Reno, familiarly known as "Honest" Reno, and much despised by the rest of the family for his peaceful ways. Even Laura Reno, the one daughter, famed throughout the West for her beauty, loved danger and adventure, was an expert horsewoman, an unerring shot, and as quick with her gun as any man. Laura fairly worshiped her desperado brothers, whom she aided in more than one of their criminal undertakings, shielding them from justice when hard pressed, and swearing to avenge them when retribution overtook them after their day of triumph.
During the war the Renos had become notorious as bounty-jumpers; and at itsclose, with a fine scorn for the ways of commonplace industry, these fierce-hearted, dashing young fellows, all well-built, handsome boys, cast about for further means of excitement and opportunities to make an easy living. Beginning their operations in a small way with house-breaking and store robberies, they soon proved themselves so reckless in their daring, so fertile in expedients, so successful in their coups, that they quickly extended their field until, in the early part of 1866, they had placed a wide region under contribution, setting all forms of law at defiance.
John Reno and Frank Reno, the elder brothers, were at this time the dominating spirits of the band, and they soon associated with them several of the most skilful and notorious counterfeiters and safe-burglars in the country, among these being Peter McCartney, James and Robert Rittenhouse, George McKay, John Dean,alias"California Nelse," and WilliamHopkins. The band soon came to be named with the greatest dread and awe, good citizens fearing to speak a word of censure, lest swift punishment be visited upon them. The Reno influence made itself felt even in local politics, corrupt officials being elected at the instigation of the outlaws, so that their conviction became practically impossible.
The Renos, toward the end of 1866, began a series of train robberies which were carried out with such perfection of organization, such amazing coolness, and such uniform success as to attract national attention. The first of these robberies took place on the Ohio and Mississippi Railroad, being accomplished by only four men, Frank and John Reno, assisted by William Sparks and Charles Gerroll. Other train robberies followed in quick succession, the same methods being used in each, with the same immunity from capture, so that people in this region would say to one another, quiteas a matter of course, "The Reno boys got away with another train yesterday."
But while indulging in its own acts of outlawry, the Reno band strenuously objected to any rivalry or competition on the part of other highwaymen. A train robbery was perpetrated on the Jeffersonville Railroad early in 1867. The Renos had no connection with this robbery. It was accomplished by two young men named Michael Collins and Walker Hammond, the two men escaping with six thousand dollars, taken from a messenger of the Adams Express Company. But their horses had carried them only a short distance from the looted train when they found themselves surrounded by the formidable Renos, who had quietly watched the robbery from a place of concealment, and now unceremoniously relieved the robbers of their plunder. Not content with this, and as if to intimidate others from like trespasses on their preserves, the Renos used theirinfluence to have their rivals arrested for the crime by which they had profited so little; and both were subsequently tried, convicted, and sentenced to long terms in the Indiana penitentiary. The Renos, meantime, although they were known to have secured and kept the six thousand dollars, were allowed to go unmolested, and continued their depredations.
Up to this time the Reno gang had confined their operations, for the most part, to Indiana; but now they began to make themselves felt in Missouri, where a number of daring crimes were committed, notably the robbing of the county treasurer's safe at Gallatin, in Daviess County. In this last act John Reno was known to have been personally concerned. The case was placed in the hands of Allan Pinkerton.
Taking up the investigation with his accustomed energy, Mr. Pinkerton traced John Reno back to Seymour, Indiana, where the gang was so strongly intrenchedin the midst of corrupt officials and an intimidated populace that any plan of open arrest was out of the question. Recognizing this, Allan Pinkerton had recourse to the cunning of his craft. He began by stationing in Seymour a trustworthy assistant, who was instructed, on a given day and at a given hour, to decoy John Reno to the railroad-station on any pretense that might suggest itself. Then he arranged to have half a dozen Missourians, the biggest and most powerful fellows he could find, led by the sheriff of Daviess County, board an express-train on the Ohio and Mississippi Railroad at Cincinnati, and ride through to Seymour, arriving there at the time agreed upon with his assistant. Along with them was to be a constable bearing all the papers necessary to execute a requisition.
When the train reached Seymour there was the usual crowd lounging about the station, and in it were John Reno andMr. Pinkerton's lieutenant, who had entirely succeeded in his task. While Reno was staring at the passengers as they left the train, he was suddenly surrounded and seized by a dozen strong arms; and before his friends could rally to his aid, or realize what was happening, he was clapped in irons, carried aboard the train, and soon was rolling away to Missouri, under arrest.
Reno's friends stoutly contested the case in the Missouri courts, arguing that the prisoner had been kidnapped and that the law had therefore been violated by his captors. The courts decided against them on this point, however; and John Reno, with several less important members of the gang, was tried and convicted. He was sentenced to twenty-five years of hard labor in the Missouri penitentiary.
This was the first break in the ranks of the band, the first instance in which they had suffered for their crimes. But the bold spirit of the organization was stillunbroken. Three brothers still remained to replace the one who was gone; and so far from learning caution, the band launched forthwith into still more daring and frequent offenses. Trains were "held up" right and left; robberies were committed; and early in 1868 the gang made a famous raid across the country through Indiana and Illinois, robbing safes in county treasurers' offices in a number of places. In several instances some of the members were arrested; but they always managed to have the prosecution quashed, or in some way to escape conviction. In the spring of 1868 their operations became so outrageous, and the situation so serious, that Allan Pinkerton was again called upon to do something in the cause of public safety.
In March of this year the safe of the county treasurer at Magnolia, Harrison County, Iowa, was robbed of about fourteen thousand dollars; and Allan Pinkertondetailed his son, William A. Pinkerton, and two assistants, to run down the burglars. Arrived at the scene of the robbery, the detectives found that the thieves had made their escape on a hand-car and had gone in the direction of Council Bluffs. At this time in Council Bluffs there was a low saloon, kept by a man who had formerly lived in Seymour and who was known as a bad character. It was decided to keep a sharp watch on this resort, Mr. Pinkerton reasoning that since Seymour was the friendly refuge of the Renos, it was altogether likely that the outlaws would have a friend, and perhaps an abettor, in the saloon-keeper who had once lived there. After two days' watching, the detectives observed a large man of dark complexion enter the saloon and engage in close conversation with the proprietor, having with him, evidently, some mysterious business.
Investigation disclosed this man to beMichael Rogers, a prominent and wealthy citizen of Council Bluffs, and the owner of an extensive property in the adjoining counties. Puzzled, but still persuaded that he had found a clue, Mr. Pinkerton put a "shadow" on Rogers, and hurried back to Magnolia, where he learned that on the day preceding the robbery Rogers had been seen in Magnolia, where he had paid his taxes, and in doing so had loitered for some time in the treasurer's office. This also looked suspicious. But, on the other hand, search as he might, the detective could find nothing against Rogers's character, every one testifying to his entire respectability.
Still unconvinced, Mr. Pinkerton returned to Council Bluffs, where he was informed by the man who had been "shadowing" Rogers that several strange men had been seen to enter Rogers's house and had not been seen to come out again. The watch was continued more closely than ever, and after fourdays of patient waiting, Rogers, accompanied by three strangers, was seen to leave the house cautiously and take a west-bound train on the Pacific Railroad. One of these men, a brawny, athletic fellow nearly six feet tall, and about twenty-eight years of age, Mr. Pinkerton shrewdly suspected was Frank Reno, although he could not be certain, never having seen Frank Reno. Feeling sure that if his suspicions were correct the men would ultimately return to Rogers's house, Mr. Pinkerton did not follow them on the train, but contented himself with keeping the strictest watch for their return. The very next morning the same four men were discovered coming back to the house from the direction of the railroad. But at that hour no train was due, which was a little curious; and another curious point was that they were all covered with mud and bore marks of having been engaged in some severe, rough labor. The hour was early; thedwellers in Council Bluffs were not yet astir. A little later the city was thrown into a fever of excitement by the news that the safe of the county treasurer at Glenwood, in Mills County, about thirty miles distant, had been robbed the previous night. No trace had yet been got of the thieves, but everything indicated that they were the same men who had robbed the safe at Magnolia. One remarkable point of similarity in the two cases was the means employed by the robbers in escaping, a hand-car having been used also by the Glenwood thieves; and they, too, were believed to have fled in the direction of Council Bluffs. Investigation soon made this absolutely certain, for the missing hand-car was found lying beside the railroad, a short distance from the Council Bluffs station.
Putting these new disclosures beside his previous suspicions and discoveries, Mr. Pinkerton was further strengthened in his distrust of the man Rogers; andalthough the local authorities, to whom he revealed his suspicions, laughed at him, declaring that Rogers was one of the most respectable citizens of the State, he resolved to attempt an arrest. Proceeding to Rogers's house with all the force he could command, he placed a guard at front and rear, and then, with a few attendants, made his way inside. The first person he met was Mr. Rogers himself, who affected to be very indignant at the intrusion.
"Who have you in this house?" asked Mr. Pinkerton.
"Nobody but my family," answered Mr. Rogers.
"We'll see about that," answered Mr. Pinkerton; and then, turning to his men, he ordered them to search the premises.
They did so, and soon came upon the three strangers, who were taken so completely by surprise that they made no effort at resistance. They were about to sit down to breakfast, which was spreadfor them in the kitchen. A comparison with photographs and descriptions left no doubt that one of the three was Frank Reno. A second—a man of dark complexion, tall, and well built—proved to be Albert Perkins, a well-known member of the Reno gang. The third was none other than the notorious Miles Ogle, the youngest member of the band, who afterward came to be known as the most expert counterfeiter in the United States. Ogle at this writing is in the Ohio penitentiary, serving his third term of imprisonment. At his last capture there were found in his possession some of the best counterfeit plates ever made.
While they were securing the four men the detectives noticed that smoke was curling out of the kitchen stove, accompanied by a sudden blaze. Mr. Pinkerton pulled off a lid, and found on the coals several packages of bank-notes, already on fire. Fortunately the notes had been so tightly wrapped togetherthat only a few of them were destroyed before the packages were got out. Those that remained were afterward identified as of the money that had been stolen from the Glenwood safe. There was thus no question that these were the robbers so long sought for. A further search of the house brought to light two sets of burglars' tools, which served as cumulative evidence.
The men were carried to Glenwood by the next train. They were met by a great and excited crowd, and for a time were in danger of lynching. Better counsel prevailed, however, and they were placed in the jail to await trial.
With the men in secure, safe custody, there was no doubt of their ultimate conviction; and every one was breathing easier at the thought that at last the Reno gang was robbed of its terrors. Then suddenly—no one will ever know how it happened—the prisoners made their escape. Great was the surprise andchagrin of the sheriff of Mills County when, on the morning of April 1, 1868, he entered the jail, only to find their cells empty. A big hole sawed through the wall told by what way they had made their exit. They left behind the mocking salutation, "April Fool," scrawled in chalk over the floors and walls of the jail.
A large reward was offered for the capture of the robbers, but nothing was heard of them until two months later, when an express-car on the Ohio and Mississippi Railroad was boarded at Marshfield, Indiana, by a gang of masked men, and robbed of ninety-eight thousand dollars. The messenger made a brave resistance, but could not cope with the robbers, who lifted him bodily and hurled him out of the car, down a steep embankment, while the train was running at high speed.
All the facts in the case pointed to the Reno brothers as the authors of this outrage, for by frequent repetition theirmethods of robbery had become familiar. Allan Pinkerton, furthermore, obtained precise evidence that it was the work of the Renos from secret agents whom he had stationed at Seymour to watch the doings of the gang. Two of these agents engaged apparently in business at Seymour, one setting up as a saloon-keeper in a rough part of the town, another taking railroad employment, which kept him constantly near the station. A third made a wide acquaintance by passing for a gambler and general good fellow. So successful were they that Allan Pinkerton was soon in possession of facts proving not only that the Marshfield robbery had been committed by the Renos, but that another train robbery which followed was executed by John Moore, Charles Gerroll, William Sparks, and three others, all members of the Reno organization. Moore, Gerroll, and Sparks were arrested shortly after, and placed on a train to be taken from Seymourto Brownstown, the county-seat. But they never reached their destination. As the train stopped at a small station some miles from Brownstown, a band of masked men, well armed, rushed on board, overpowered the officers, hurried the three outlaws away to a neighboring farm-yard, and there strung them up to a beech-tree, while an old German who owned the farm looked on approvingly.
This was the first act of retributive justice done by the Secret Vigilance Committee of Southern Indiana, an organization as extraordinary as the situation it was created to deal with. The entire population of that part of Indiana seemed to have risen in self-defense to crush out lawlessness. A second act followed several days later, when three other men who had been concerned in the latest train robbery, having been captured by the county officials, were taken from their hands and condemned to the same fate as their companions.Each one, as he was about to be swung off, was asked by the maskers if he had anything to say. The first two shook their heads sullenly, and died without speaking. The third, standing on a barrel with the rope round his neck, looked over the crowd with contemptuous bravado, and addressing them as a lot of "mossback Hoosiers," said he was glad he was not of their class, and was proud to die as a good Republican. The barrel was kicked away, the rope stiffened with his weight, and there ended the career of the sixth member of the band.
Hard times followed for the surviving Renos. Realizing that their power was broken, they fled in various directions. The three brothers, Frank, William, and "Sim," though still at large, were not left long to enjoy their liberty. A large price was placed on their heads, and betrayal came quickly. William and "Sim" were arrested soon after, in Indianapolis, and turned over to the localauthorities, who, in order to avoid the Vigilance Committee, took the prisoners to New Albany, in an adjoining county, where they were placed in jail.
The Vigilance Committee, growing stronger and more determined every day, now scoured the whole country for other members of the gang or for persons believed to be in sympathy with it. They literally went on the "war-path" through this whole region of Indiana, and it went ill with any poor wretch who incurred their suspicion. Like the "Whitecaps" of a later day, they sent warnings to all who came on their black-list, and administered by night, and sometimes by day, such promiscuous floggings and other forms of punishment that the tough and criminal element of the region was entirely cowed, and feared to raise a hand in defense of the Renos, as it had previously done. Up to the time the Vigilance Committee was formed not a member of the Reno gang had been convictedin that locality, largely because the people were afraid to testify against them. They knew that if they should testify, their stock would be killed, their barns burned, and they themselves waylaid and beaten. This was the reason offered for the formation of the Vigilance Committee of Southern Indiana. Whether a justification or not, the committee must certainly be credited with having rid the State of a monstrous evil.
In the excitement of other events the Pinkertons had not forgotten the men who had escaped from the Glenwood jail. They finally traced Miles Ogle and Albert Perkins to Indianapolis; and there Ogle was captured, but Perkins escaped. Frank Reno was discovered a little later at Windsor, Canada, where he was living with Charles Anderson, a professional burglar, safe-blower, and "short-card" gambler, who had fled to Canada to escape prosecution. Reno, operating with Anderson, made a practice of registeringas "Frank Going" if the enterprise in which he was engaged was prospering, and as "Frank Coming" if it was not prospering. He and Anderson were now arrested on a charge of robbery and of assault with intent to kill, in the case of the express messenger hurled from his car at Marshfield, Indiana. Under this form their offense became extraditable; and after a long trial before the stipendiary or government magistrate, Gilbert McMicken, at Windsor, the men were ordered for extradition. Aided by the ablest lawyers, they carried their case, however, to the highest court in Canada. But the decision of the lower court was affirmed; and in October, 1868, the men were surrendered into the hands of Allan Pinkerton, who was delegated by the United States government to receive them. It was due to the patience and persistence of Mr. Alfred Gaither, the Western manager of the Adams Express Company, and his then assistant, Mr.L.C. Weir, now president of the company, and to the general policy of the company to permit no compromise with thieves, that, regardless of cost and time, the prosecution was continued until it issued thus successfully.
Michael Rogers was also discovered to be in Windsor at this time, and he was known to have had a hand in the Marshfield robbery; but he escaped arrest, and remained securely in Windsor for a year or two. Later, though, he reached the penitentiary, being brought to grief by a burglary done at Tolono, Illinois. On coming out, he joined the notorious McCartney gang of counterfeiters, and had many narrow escapes. The last known of him, grown an old man, he was living quietly on a farm in Texas.
Made at last secure of Reno and Anderson, Allan Pinkerton chartered a tug to carry them to Cleveland, and thus avoid the friends who, as he had reason to know, were waiting across the river inDetroit to effect a rescue. When the tug had gone about twenty miles, it was run down by a large steamer and sunk, the passengers, including the prisoners, being saved from drowning with the greatest difficulty. The prisoners were carried on to Cleveland by another boat, and from there were hurried on by rail to New Albany, where they were placed in jail along with "Sim" and William Reno.
The final passage in the history of the Reno gang occurred about a month later, in the latter part of November, 1868, when one day a passenger-car was dropped off at Seymour, Indiana, some distance from the station. There was nothing remarkable in this, nor did the car attract any attention. That night a train passing through Seymour took up the car and drew it away. A few people about the station when the car was taken up remembered afterward that this car was filled with strange-looking men,who wore Scotch caps and black cloth masks, and seemed to be under the command of a tall, dark-haired man addressed by every one as "No. 1." Although there were at least fifty of these men, it is a remarkable fact, developed in a subsequent investigation, that the conductor of the train could remember nothing about the incident, declaring that he did not enter the car and knew nothing of its being attached to his train. It is certain the company of masked men did everything in their power to avoid attention, scarcely speaking to one another during the ride and making all their movements as noiseless as possible.
The train reached New Albany at two o'clock in the morning. The car was detached, and was presently emptied of its fifty men as silently and mysteriously as it had been filled. A few hurried commands were given by "No. 1," and then the company marched in quiet order to the jail. Arrived there, they summonedthe jailer to open the doors, but were met with a firm refusal and the shining barrel of a revolver. There followed an exchange of shots, in which the sheriff received a ball in the arm, and two local police officers were captured. Without loss of time the jail doors were battered down; the company entered, and taking the three Reno brothers and their friend, Charles Anderson, from their cells, placed nooses that they had ready around the men's necks, and hung them to the rafters in the corridors of the jail. Then, having locked the doors of the jail, leaving the prisoners secure, they made their way silently back to the New Albany station, reaching there in time to catch the train that drew out at 3:30a. m.The same special car in which they had come was coupled to this train, and dropped off at the switch when Seymour was reached. This was just before daybreak on a dreary November morning.
Who these fifty men were was never discovered, although, because of the fact that Reno and Anderson had been extradited from Great Britain, the general government made an investigation. It was rumored, however, and generally understood, that the company included some of the most prominent people in Seymour, among others a number of railroad and express employees. It was found that at the time of the lynching all the telegraph wires leading from New Albany had been cut, so that it was noon of the following day before the country learned of it.
The newspapers described the leader of the party as a man of unusual stature, who wore a handsome diamond ring on the little finger of his right hand. Later some significance was attached to the fact that a well-known railroad official who answered this description as to stature and who had always worn a handsome diamond ring previous to thelynching, ceased to wear his ring for several years afterward.
After the execution of her brothers, it was rumored that Laura Reno had taken an oath to devote the rest of her life to avenging them; and for a moment there were threats and mutterings of reprisals from allies or surviving members of the gang. But these latter were not heard again after a certain morning, the third day after the execution, when the people of Seymour, on leaving their homes, were startled to see on the walls and in other public places large posters proclaiming that if any property was injured or destroyed, or any persons molested or assaulted, or if there was any further talk in regard to recent happenings, some twenty-five persons, therein frankly named, who were known to be sympathizers with the Renos, or to be more or less intimately connected with them, had better beware. And as for the sister's deadly oath, she did no actin proof of the violent intentions imputed to her, but instead subsequently became the wife of a respectable man and settled down to a useful life, though a much more commonplace one than she had previously known. John Reno, after serving fifteen years in the Missouri penitentiary, was released, and is said to be at present living on the old farm. "Clint" Reno, or "Honest" Reno, always stayed at the old homestead, and has never been willing to speak of his brothers or of what happened to them. Seymour, purged of the evil influences that corrupted it, has grown into a thriving and beautiful little city, and is to-day one of the model towns of Indiana.