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"No," I said, "I haven't any papers. I have nothing but you."
"Suppose I object to going any farther with you," he remarked.
"In that case," I replied, "I would simply have to have you locked up
and wait until the papers arrive. They are all made out, therefore
you can raise all the objections you like. I am a deputy sheriff, and I
could have locked you up in Illinois, but I did not know what that
red-headed fellow and your other associates in Shawneetown would
do, and not wanting to be bothered with them, I decided to just
bring you right along."
Watts then said, "You saw that fellow with the red hair, did you?"
"Yes," I answered.
"Where did you see him?"
"At the time I pointed my gun at your head he peered in at the door
leading into the back room, but when he saw the condition of things,
he ducked back into the rear room," I told him.
"Oh!" Watts said, "he is a coward. If I ever get my eyes on him I'll
kill him on sight." Continuing, Watts said, "Did you notice when you
told me to throw up my hands, that I hesitated for a second?"
I said, "Yes, I did."
"Do you know what I thought of when I hesitated?" he asked.
"No, I don't," I answered.
"Why, I thought of just jumping forward and taking that gun away
from you."
I said, "Why didn't you do it?" looking him straight in the eye.
He replied, with an oath, "I thought you'd shoot."
"I guess you were right about that," I answered.
He stopped talking for a few minutes and then began to cry. He
became almost hysterical. We were riding in the smoking car when
this conversation occurred and his sobbing and crying attracted the
attention of the passengers in the car, and it was really pitiful to see
a strong, athletic looking young man like Watts sob and cry like a
child. He finally ceased and said, "Well, I am glad you got me. I have
never had an hour's peace or rest since that night at Catholicsburg,
Kentucky."
"Why," I said, "What happened at Catholicsburg?"
He answered, "Oliver Beach shot my father, James Watts, in our boat
at Catholicsburg, and he and Brooks put the body into the Ohio
River. He killed him with my gun. I knew they were going to do it,
but I did not take any part in the killing. Now, I am going to tell you
all about myself and my companions since I left Brookville."
I told him that while I would be interested in hearing what he had to
say, it would be used against him at his trial at Brookville, and that I
would, therefore, prefer that he would not tell me anything about his
crimes until we got back to Brookville, and then if he felt like talking
and making a confession, he could do so to the prosecuting attorney,
and the authorities there; that my part in the matter would end
upon my delivering him to the officers, and I would rather that he
defer talking until we arrived in that city. However, he insisted on
telling me about the numerous crimes that he and his associates had
committed while going down the Ohio River, about his capture at
Paducah, Kentucky; his conviction, his pardon and the conviction and
pardon of two members of his gang from the penitentiary.
He was especially proud of one piece of work done by the gang
while making their home in a house-boat anchored on the Illinois
side of the river opposite Paducah. Watts, Beach and Alston rowed
across the river to the Kentucky side in a four-oared skiff. It was cold
and freezing. They were looking for plunder and spied a large egg-
shaped coal stove in the office of a coal company on the levee. This
stove had been filled with coal and was red hot, and the fire had
been banked for the night with ashes, and the "gentlemen" before
named, broke open the door of the coal office, procured a wide,
strong plank, run it under the red-hot stove and took it to their
house-boat, where they installed it without permitting the fire to go
out. So that they thus succeeded in stealing and getting away with a
red-hot stove, which was a verification of the old saying that "there
was nothing too hot or too heavy for them."
In due time we arrived at Brookville, where he insisted on making a
full confession, which he did, in the presence of Prosecuting Attorney
Reed, Sheriff W. P. Steele and myself. This confession, which was
voluntarily made and sworn to before the clerk of the court,
witnessed and attested by Mr. Reed, Steele and myself, is as follows:
CONFESSION OF J. W. WATTS.
Left Brookville, June 20, 1874, for Parkers Landing. Got a boat there
and went down the river. My father, James Watts, traded a gun for
the boat. We built a shanty on the boat as we proceeded down the
river. The names of the parties on that boat were: Charles Beach,
Oliver Brooks, James Watts, J. W. Watts, Sarah M. Watts and Myrta
Watts. There was no difficulty on the boat until we arrived at a point
near Ironton, Ohio. We got a woman by the name of Fanny Rose on
board the boat, and from there down to Maysville there seemed to
be some trouble between Oliver Brooks and James Watts, my father,
about Fanny Rose, the girl above named. My father had been talking
of turning state's evidence, and on Sunday, the 6th of September,
1874, he took an axe and cut a hole in the bottom of the boat. I
remonstrated with him and he was going to strike me with the axe.
The water began filling the boat, which necessitated our landing. On
the night of the 6th of September, 1874, Oliver Brooks shot James
Watts, killing him almost instantly, for threatening to turn state's
evidence, concerning what had been stolen during our trip down the
river, by the male portion of the gang on the boat. James Watts stole
nothing himself. He only lived a few minutes after Brooks shot him. I
was on another boat about sixty yards above the one James Watts
was on. I knew that Oliver Brooks was going to shoot my father, and
it made me very nervous. It made me sick and I laid down. I got up
and started down to tell my father, when I heard a gun shot, but
having an idea of what had occurred I was very much frightened,
and was very weak through fear, and did not go into the shanty on
the boat, where James Watts and Oliver Brooks were. During this
Sunday afternoon Oliver Brooks and James Watts had some
difficulty, and Brooks told us all, except James Watts, that he would
shoot James Watts. Alston told Brooks that he would get my father
to play a game of cards by a window, in order that Brooks could slip
around and shoot him from the bank of the river through the
window, and he did shoot him.
I am here to tell the whole truth, and want to keep nothing back. My
father stole nothing, but he did help conceal what the rest of us
stole.
After he was shot, and when I came up, either Brooks and Beach, or
Brooks and Alston, were gathering up stones on the bank and
carrying them into the shanty on the boat where my father was
lying, and I suppose they were taking them in to tie around his neck
to sink him in the river, from what they said before the deed was
committed. After they got everything fixed up, I heard them putting
my father into a skiff and rowing out into the river and I heard them
throwing him overboard. They used sixty or eighty feet of half-inch
rope to tie the stones to him, judging from the amount that was
gone from the boat. Alston told me he had just dealt the cards and
turned trump. The old man passed, and he (Alston) turned it down.
My father said he would make it hearts, but turned and looked
towards the window from where the shot came and then fell. Alston
caught him to keep him from falling so hard. This is what Alston told
me. After they took my father out into the river and threw him in,
Oliver Brooks said he felt just as well as he did before he committed
the deed and better, too. After this there was no more conversation
about it in my presence as I would not listen to them, nor permit
them to talk to me about it. I did not go into the room where he was
killed, for five or six weeks. It was my rifle that he shot him with and
it was the best rifle I ever saw or used, but after Brooks used it to
shoot my father, I never shot out of it, or looked into the muzzle of
it, but what I saw blood, or thought I saw blood in it. Other persons
saw blood in the muzzle of the gun after shooting it. I showed it to
them without giving them any other information. There was an
understanding and mutual agreement between us that we were
never to say anything about the killing of James Watts. We pushed
the boat off that evening, after my father had been killed and
thrown into the river and went on down stream following our usual
avocation of stealing, etc., and we did not stop permanently until we
got to Paducah, Kentucky. At Paducah, all the males in our party
were arrested on the Illinois side by Marshal Geary of Paducah,
Frank Farland, Wood Morrow and Bill Green, on a charge of grand
larceny, committed at Buddsville, Ky. We were tried, convicted and
sent to the penitentiary at Frankfort, Ky. I got three years, Oliver
Brooks got two years and nine months, Pete Alston got one year and
six months and Charlie Beach got three years. Brooks got pardoned
through his wife on the 14th of May, or June, 1875, and I got
pardoned on the 7th of July, 1875, and M. P. Alston on the 10th of
August, 1875.
Brooks and his wife got Beach pardoned. Brooks' wife, as I
understood it, had illicit relations with the son of the Governor of
Kentucky, and through the influence of the son on his father, Beach
was pardoned. My wife got Governor King to write to Governor
Leslis, then acting Governor of Kentucky, and through his
intercession I was pardoned. After Brooks was pardoned out he
stayed until Beach and I got out. As soon as I got out I started for or
back to Paducah, Ky., and left Brooks and Beach in Frankfort. I left
there on the 7th day of July, 1875, and have never seen any of them
since. Alston, a short time after he got out of the penitentiary, went
down the Kentucky river, broke into a store, and got shot in the
back. He was sent back to the penitentiary for five years, and is
there at the present time. Up to the time I left Brookville I was in
the habit of going out with a gang composed of Dan Miller, Frank
Watts, John Johnson, Frank Loader, Oliver Brooks, John Lyons, and
his father, and Charlie Beach. Frank Watts and myself went through
Eshelman's grocery store at Dowlingville, and at other places, I
cannot now remember.
I make this confession of my own free will and without the
expectation of any reward or through any fear. I make it because
this thing has been lying on my mind like a lead weight, and I
concluded I would tell the whole thing just as it occurred. My wife
and I had a conversation at one time in regard to the affair and we
thought of going to the officers and telling all about it, but for some
reason we did not do it. This was when we were in Paducah.
Made, signed and sworn to in the presence of Thomas Furlong,
detective for the Allegheny Valley Railroad Company, Wm. P. Steele,
deputy sheriff of Jefferson County, Pennsylvania, and John W. Reed,
Attorney-at-law, August 22, 1876.
Watts made the above statement with a view to shielding himself as
much as possible. He, himself, killed his father, and Mrs. Brooks so
testified. She said it was not only Wess Watts' gun that killed old
man Watts, but the gun was in the hands of Wess Watts.
I, having been subpoenaed as a witness for the state against Wess
Watts, arrived at Brookville on the morning set for his trial. The
whole forenoon was consumed in selecting a jury. When the last
juror had been selected it was about twelve o'clock, and the court
took a recess until one p. m. At that time, his Honor, Judge Sterritt,
stated that the prisoner, Wess Watts, should be brought into court,
when the testimony for the prosecution would begin. I went to the
hotel, ate my dinner and had returned to the sheriff's office in the
courthouse a few minutes before one o'clock. While sitting there
talking to Sheriff Steele an old man entered the office, whom the
sheriff familiarly greeted, calling him Uncle John, in the following
manner:
"Hello, Uncle John. I haven't seen you for a long time. How've you
been?"
Uncle John replied, "Quite well, but I'm getting old. Mammy wanted
to get some things in the store and we drove in this morning from
Beechwoods. I've been reading in my paper about Wess Watts and it
says that he is to be put on trial today. You know, Bill, I knew old Bill
Watts, Wess' father, before Wess was born. I've been reading all
about the boy and his gang and he surely must be a very bad and
desperate man. While I'm here in town, I'd like to get a look at him."
To this Sheriff Steele replied, "Court will convene at one o'clock,
which will be only a few minutes now, and I've been ordered by the
Judge to bring Wess into court at that time. If you will go up and sit
in the courtroom, Uncle John, you will have a good chance to see
him when I take him in."
Uncle John was a man more than seventy years of age, was a good
citizen and had lived in the backwoods in Jefferson county all his life.
He knew everybody in the county. His home was on a small farm
about eighteen miles from Brookville. He was a strong, hale man for
his age, and had a full, heavy, white beard. He was an inveterate
tobacco chewer and a typical backwoods farmer.
At the close of his conversation with the sheriff, Uncle John walked
to the door leading into the hall, but, just before reaching the door,
he suddenly turned and said, "Bill, I see in the paper that Wess
Watts was captured down in Egypt by one man, and that man
brought him back here all alone. The paper said that man would be
at the trial here today. I'd like very much to see him, too."
The sheriff (pointing to me) said, "Uncle John, here's the man who
captured Wess Watts and brought him back here."
Whereupon, Uncle John quietly walked across the room to where I
was sitting, keeping his eye upon me all the time, till within a few
feet of me, when he said, "Young man, I wish you would stand up, I
want to look at you."
I stood up, and the old man walked about half way around me,
eyeing me from head to foot. He then turned without saying a word
and started for the door. Before leaving, he said, stroking his long
beard with his left hand and pointing his right at me, "Bill, by jove, it
didn't take much of a man, either."

"Bill, by jove, it didn't take much of a man either!"

Then he left the room.
Court convened at one o'clock and everything appeared to be ready
for the beginning of the trial. The courtroom was packed with
spectators as the Watts trial had aroused a great deal of interest,
and people were attracted from local and neighboring counties to
see the prisoner and witness his trial. The sheriff did not appear with
his prisoner, however, and the judge sent an officer to notify him
that the Court was waiting. In a few minutes the sheriff appeared,
with the officer, but without the prisoner. He approached the judge's
stand and informed him that he had been unable to induce the
prisoner to leave his cell, and Watts had said he would kill any
person who attempted to take him into court.
The jail was an old-fashioned stone jail, and the doors leading into
the cells were only about two and one-half feet wide and four feet
high, therefore, a person above four feet in height was obliged to
stoop on entering or leaving the cell. They had old-fashioned
wooden bedsteads in each cell, and Watts had torn his bedstead to
pieces that morning and had taken off one of its legs, which was
about three feet long and four inches square, and of heavy
hardwood. He was a powerfully strong man, and had declared his
intention of massacring any person attempting to enter his cell. He
defied the sheriff or any of his officers to enter. After Judge Sterritt
had listened to the sheriff's report, he summoned me to his chair
and said, "Mr. Furlong, you arrested this man in Illinois and brought
him to Brookville. Now I deputize you to go to the jail and bring
Wess Watts, the prisoner, to this bar, as soon as possible."
I left the court with the sheriff and went to the jail, in the rear of the
courthouse, and direct to the door of Watts' cell, where I found him
standing in the center of his cell armed with the big club. I tried to
persuade him to leave his cell, and accompany me to the courtroom,
but in vain. He was obstinate and declared he would kill me or any
one else who tried to enter that cell. I found that persuasion was
unavailing and called the sheriff to one side, out of ear shot, and
said, "How long will it take you to heat a few gallons of water to a
boil?"
The sheriff said he thought there was a lot of boiling water in the jail
kitchen, as it was just after dinner. We went to the jail kitchen where
we found a large amount of hot water on hand. We secured a tin
wash boiler and put about five gallons of boiling water into it. I also
obtained a large tin dipper with a long handle. We carried the boiler
of water to the door of Watt's cell. I also armed a big, burly deputy
sheriff named Clover Smith, with an axe handle, and as Smith was
left-handed I placed him at the right hand side of the cell door, while
I placed the boiler of hot water on the left side. I then dipped up a
dipper full of boiling water (about two quarts) and with the long
handle I could reach any part of the cell with the hot water. I threw
the first dipper full at Watts, which struck his breast and upper part
of his body. As he was lightly clad, and the water struck him
squarely, he yelled like a mad lion. I threw two more dippers of
scalding water at him in quick succession, each time the water
striking him fairly, and after I had thrown the third dipper, he made a
lightning-like spring for the open door. As he was obliged to stoop so
low that his head almost touched his knees, Smith, whom I had
instructed, struck him with the axe handle, on the head, felling him
to the floor, unconscious. Thereupon, the sheriff, Smith and myself
picked him up and carried him into the courtroom and laid him on a
table before the Judge's stand. There were a number of doctors
present who applied restoratives and brought him to his senses in a
few minutes.
He was scalded slightly in spots on his neck and body, but otherwise
uninjured, except a good sized bump on the back of his head where
Smith had struck him.
He showed no further signs of obstinacy and was perfectly easy to
control and handle thereafter until he was landed safely in the state
prison at Allegheny. He pleaded guilty of having made a criminal
assault on a school girl of about sixteen years of age. She was
returning to her home from school between 4 and 5 o'clock in the
evening, her home being on a mountain on the outskirts of
Brookville. Watts met her in a lonely spot on the road and committed
a violent and criminal assault. The girl knew him by sight. He left her
by the wayside in an unconscious condition, from which she partly
recovered and managed to reach her home a few hours later. She
told her parents what had happened and that Wess Watts was her
assailant. Whereupon, the father immediately saddled a horse and
rode rapidly to the sheriff's office, and informed that officer of the
crime.
William P. Steele was sheriff at the time, and immediately summoned
a posse of seventeen men. These men hastily armed themselves
with rifles, shotguns, and pistols and, headed by the sheriff, went to
the home of the Watts', and surrounded the house, which stood on a
country road in the outskirts of Brookville. After the house had been
surrounded the sheriff and one of his men went to the front door
where they rapped for admission. The door was opened by Wess'
mother. The sheriff addressed her as follows: "Mrs. Watts, I have a
warrant for Wess' arrest. I am satisfied that he is here, and your
house is surrounded. He had better give himself up, peaceably, at
once."
Mrs. Watts was about to reply, but before she had time to do so, the
large bony hand of her son Wess was ruthlessly placed upon her
shoulder and she was pulled back into the house, he taking her
place in the doorway. He had a belt about his waist in which could
be seen two Colts navy revolvers. He also had a Colts navy in each
hand, and as he stepped into the doorway he said, "Mother, you
need not lie to shield me. I will take care of myself."
And turning around he addressed the sheriff thus: "Bill, I counted
your men as they surrounded the house. There are eighteen of you,
and I want to say to you that I have got twenty-four shots right here
(referring to the four six-shooters he was carrying). I know all of you
fellows and, Bill, you know as well as your men know, that I never
miss a mark that I shoot at. Now, I am going to leave this place at
once and I will not bother Brookville again, unless you or any of your
men attempt to stop me. If you do I will kill every man of you and
will still have shots left." Whereupon he extended his hands in front
of him so as to brush Sheriff Steele and his assistant to one side,
and suddenly sprang forward, ran to the gate in front of the house
and then across the road to where there was a high rail fence. He
placed one hand on the top rail and vaulted over the fence and
disappeared into a patch of laurel brush and timber.
In the meantime the sheriff and his posse, or at least a portion of
them who were in sight of Watts, quietly stood and watched the
proceedings without raising a gun, or attempting to do so. It was
after this escape that Wess and his father, Brooks and the others
made their notorious voyage down the Ohio river to Paducah.
In conclusion, I will add that on the morning that I arrested Watts at
Shawneetown, I had not the remotest idea of either arresting or
attempting to arrest him, as I was alone and in a strange state and
had no papers authorizing me to make the arrest, as Sheriff Steele
had retained the papers when he became ill at St. Louis. I knew that
Watts had never seen me, therefore, he could not possibly know me
or my business; but, then the terrible reputation he bore in
Pennsylvania would preclude the possibility of almost any sane man
attempting to arrest him without what might be considered proper
assistance. Knowing that he did not know me, and having an
irresistible desire to see this terrible criminal, as I had heard him
called, I ventured into his shop merely to get a look at him, believing
that I could give him a plausible excuse for my early visit; but when
I saw him and that he was entirely unarmed, and he did not really
look to be as desperate, or even as powerful a man as he had been
described to be to me, I, being armed, instantly concluded I could
never expect a more favorable opportunity to arrest him than right
then and there, and, as a matter of fact, I found myself carrying out
this resolution really before the resolution had been fully formed in
my mind. I saw before me the man who was much wanted by the
Pennsylvania authorities and believed I could get him then and
there, which I did.
 SOLVING A TRUNK MYSTERY.
A VERY SLENDER CLUE FASTENS A ROBBERY UPON A BOSOM
FRIEND OF THE VICTIM—THE LOOT RECOVERED.
Early in 1872, while I was Chief of Police of Oil City, Pennsylvania, I
was sitting in my office in the City Hall one morning, talking to Col.
E. A. Kelley, who was at that time City Comptroller. His office
adjoined mine. The colonel was a jolly, good-natured gentleman,
middle-aged, very portly, scholarly, and of military bearing. He was a
graduate of Annapolis Naval Academy, and had spent a portion of his
early life in the United States navy. He had traveled a great deal, and
was generally well-informed. He had formed a great liking to me,
and took an interest in the police department, and especially in the
detection of criminals and the capture of them, and loved to talk
with me during our leisure moments relative to that portion of my
duties as chief of the department.
We were thus engaged in a pleasant conversation, when two young
men, who were probably from twenty-five to twenty-eight years of
age, entered the office and inquired of the Colonel for the Chief of
Police. Colonel Kelley pointed to me saying, "There is the Chief," and
arose to leave the office. I knew that there was no cause for his
leaving at the moment, so asked him to remain, feeling that he
would be interested in the young men's business with me.
The spokesman of the two said to me that his name was William
Brewer, and that he was the superintendent of an oil company which
was operating a large number of oil wells on the Blood farm, which
was located on Oil Creek, Venango County, Pennsylvania, and about
six miles north of Oil City. He stated that his home was in the state
of Ohio, near Cleveland, where he had bought a small farm for a
home for his parents, who were getting old, and who were now
living on this farm. He said that he was earning a fairly good salary,
and that he had been saving his money so as to make the annual
payment on the farm, as he had made the purchase on the
installment plan. His next annual payment of seven hundred dollars,
including the interest, would be due in about a week from that date.
He had been laying his money away in a trunk, which he kept in his
room in the boarding-house. He stated that he had nine hundred
dollars in bank notes, which he kept in a large, leather wallet, and
which he placed in this trunk. He said that he kept the trunk locked,
and on that morning he had occasion to unlock his trunk to take out
some clothing, and to his dismay discovered that the wallet and its
contents were missing. In answer to my question, he stated that he
had found the trunk locked, and apparently intact. I believe I only
asked him the one question. He did all the talking, clearly and
distinctly, had a good face, and his general manner impressed me
very much.
His companion, who looked near enough like him to be a brother,
which in fact, I at first judged him to be, had nothing to say. After
listening attentively to his story, I was silent for a few moments, and
finally asked him how long it would take him to go to his boarding-
house and bring his trunk to my office, in exactly the same condition
in which he had found it. He replied that as the roads were quite bad
he thought he could have the trunk in my office in about four hours.
I then explained to him that as his boarding-house was outside of
my jurisdiction as Chief of Police, that I really would have no right to
go there, but that I would be glad to aid him to the best of my
ability; to which he replied that he would bring the trunk to my office
as requested, and thanked me for my trouble.
The boys then left the office, and I noticed that they had a horse
and buggy, in which they departed. While this conversation was
going on between myself and Brewer, Col. Kelley was sitting with his
arms folded, intently interested, but silent. When they had gone I
returned to my office, and sat down, where the colonel was waiting
for me. After I had seated myself and lighted a cigar the colonel said
to me, "Tom, why did you ask those boys to bring that trunk here to
your office?" I unhesitatingly replied, "Colonel, I don't know." Right
here I want to assure the reader that my reply was absolutely the
truth. I really had no idea at the time that I asked the young fellow
to bring his trunk to my office why I did so, other than that I had
seen, while in the company of other Chiefs of Police and detectives,
that they, as a rule, invariably cast as much mystery as possible
about their work when dealing with people outside of their
departments. Neither did I feel at liberty to admit to these young
men that I felt incapable of solving the mystery surrounding the
disappearance of the money. All of which I explained to the colonel.
He laughingly shook his head and said, "Tom, you are a detective,
sure enough. You are not candid in this explanation that you have
given to me, but I beg your pardon, as it is really presumptuous on
my part to ask you such questions. However, I will just wait and
watch the outcome, which I believe will be all right." I tried to
answer the colonel that I had been candid with him, but it was in
vain.
In due time, during the afternoon of the same day, the boys
returned to my office, carrying the trunk between them. Col. Kelley
was on hand, as he had evidently been watching for them and had
seen them as they entered my office. I asked him to be seated, and
said to Brewer, "I wish that you would place that trunk in this room
in as near the same position as it was in your room at the boarding-
house."
Brewer said, "Our room is square and nearly the shape of this office,
but not so large. There are two windows in the west side of our
room. They are about five feet apart." And he placed the trunk
against the wall of the office between two windows, which were
farther apart than the windows in his room. After he had placed the
trunk, I said to him, "Now, I want you to approach the trunk just as
you did this morning, when you missed your money, unlock the
trunk, and go through the same motions that you did until you
discovered the loss."
He approached the trunk, got down on his right knee, unstrapped
the trunk, produced a key, unlocked it, turned the lid back against
the wall, then removed the tray which covered the portion of the
trunk below the lid. This trunk was a cheap one, covered with an
imitation of leather, and was comparatively new. The trunk and tray
were lined with a delicate blue paper. The tint was of such a color
that it would easily soil. The tray had sides and ends which were
perhaps two inches deep, and slid down into the lower half of the
trunk from the lid, where it rested upon two cleats at either end. It
fitted the trunk snugly. There were two straps of light colored tape,
which were about an inch wide and were fastened with carpet tacks
to the center of each end of the tray. These tapes acted as handles
by which the tray could be lifted from the trunk. Brewer had to work
for some time to get the tray up out of the trunk, for the reason that
one of the tape straps had evidently been recently jerked from its
fastenings. As stated before, these tapes had been fastened to the
tray by means of four large-sized carpet tacks. When the one strap
had been jerked off the tack remained firm in the tray, but the heads
of the tacks had been pulled off. This left a sharp point on one of the
tacks, which projected from the wood about one-sixteenth of an
inch, and like a needle point.
While Brewer was trying to remove the tray I was kneeling down at
one end of the trunk and noticed the sharp point on the tack. I also
noticed the mark of a thumb, which had been greasy and dirty, and
which had been pressed over the tack as the light paper plainly
showed.
Meanwhile, the young man whom I supposed was the brother, was
standing at the other end of the trunk opposite me, when I
happened to look up just as he turned around towards me, with his
hands by his side. I noticed that the thumb on his right hand, which
was calloused and dirty, had been cut diagonally across, leaving the
cut about three-quarters of an inch long, and about a thirty-second
of an inch deep. The cut was fresh and was beginning to gape open,
although not deep enough to bring blood. The hands of all men
employed around oil wells become more or less saturated with oil,
and are rough and calloused. Generally they present a dirty and
greasy appearance. As the fellow turned and I got a glimpse of the
cut in the thumb, I rose from beside the trunk, faced him, and
instantly seized his right hand. I carefully examined the cut, then
looked at the imprint on the end of the tray, and pointing to the
stain, said to him in a sharp, commanding tone, "Where is this man's
money?"
 "Where is this man's money?"
He began to cry, and said, "If you will let me go I will get the
money."
I asked him where the money was, and he said, "I hid it yesterday
under the carpet in the hall at the boarding-house."
Meanwhile, Brewer had turned ashy pale, and burst into tears,
exclaiming, "My God, Chief, I am sorry to learn that he, above all
other men, has taken my money. He knew all about it. He was the
only person who knew that I kept the money where I did. We have
been raised together. He was my schoolmate and is now my room-
mate. His father and mother live in Ohio and are our nearest
neighbors. It would kill them to know that Jim would do a thing like
this. His name is Jim Davis."
I said to Davis, "Will you go with Brewer and get that money and
turn it over to him, intact?" He promised that he would do so, but he
said, "Chief, I cannot get the money from its hiding place
unobserved until after the people in the house have gone to bed,
tonight."
"That will be all right," said Brewer, "I know Jim will do as he
promises. Now, Chief, if you will not arrest him I will gladly pay you
anything that you may charge me, but please do not arrest him. I
could not appear against him in court, for if I did so it would kill his
mother, and probably my mother too."
I replied that I would make no charges for my services, and if he
was satisfied it did not matter to me. I said, "You may take charge of
him, and if he does not turn the money over to you at once, I will
take the matter up and have him punished according to law."
The boys left with the trunk, and the next day Brewer called upon
me and told me that Davis had turned all the money over to him,
and had then attempted to commit suicide. He had gone to a near-
by drug store and purchased a quantity of poison with suicidal
intent. Suspecting that Davis had contemplated ending his life,
Brewer had detailed a trusted and mutual friend to watch him,
unknown to Davis, and who seized him and took the poison away
from him before he could use it.
Davis and Brewer were friends afterwards and became inseparable,
as they had been before that time. If the parents of either of them
ever heard of the occurrence I am not aware of it.
After the boys had left, Col. Kelley, who had taken in the entire
proceedings in silence, came to me with moisture in his eyes, and
said, "Chief, you are a brick."
 THE GLENCOE TRAIN ROBBERY.
ARREST AND CONVICTION OF BILLY LOWE AND GEORGE EBBER-
LING.—A PIECE OF QUICK WORK.
Glencoe is a small station on the Missouri Pacific Railway, twenty-
nine miles west of the city of St. Louis. An east bound train which
carried both mail and passengers was boarded on the night of
February 21, 1910, by two men, who climbed on the front end of
what is known by railroad men as the blind baggage, next to the
tender of the engine. These men were unobserved until the train
had passed Glencoe station, when they climbed over the top of the
tank to the engine and covered the engineer and fireman with drawn
revolvers. They were both masked with handkerchiefs tied over the
lower portion of their faces, which entirely concealed their features
below the eyes. They wore slouch hats and were described by the
engineer and fireman and other members of the train crew who saw
them—one as a short, stout built man with very black hair; the other
as a tall, square-shouldered fellow with light-brown hair, and
apparently younger than his stout partner. The stout man was
described as having handled and carried his revolver in his left hand,
while his right hand was bandaged and appeared to have been
injured. He also was reported as having acted as chief and to have
given all orders, and to have handled the locomotive as though he
was as perfectly familiar with the work as an experienced locomotive
engineer. These men compelled the engineer to bring the train to a
full stop. They then made the engineer and fireman accompany
them back to the rear end of the last mail car, when the engineer
was forced to disconnect the two mail cars from the rest of the train.
Then the engineer and fireman were marched back to the engine,
and after all four men had again entered the cab, the short man
took charge of the engine, and pulled the express and two mail cars
to a point about three miles east of where the rest of the train had
been left with the crew. They stopped at this point on the main track
and began rifling the sealed mail pouches in one of the mail cars,
continuing this for several minutes, cutting open the sealed pouches
and taking therefrom all the registered mail. They finally concluded
that they were consuming too much time, as trains were liable to
approach from the east. They, therefore, seized a number of large
mail pouches filled with registered mail, and, after instructing the
engineer and fireman to back the engine to Glencoe and take up the
rest of the train again, the men left the railroad on foot, each of
them being loaded down with the registered mail pouches, which
they had taken from the car. They hid these mail bags in a stack of
corn-shucks in a cornfield near the bank of the Meramec River. They
had previously stolen a skiff, or rowboat, which they had hidden in a
clump of bushes on the bank of the river near the cornfield. They
took this rowboat and made their way down the Meramec River a
few miles, where they left the boat and made their way overland
back to St. Louis.
On the morning of February 22, I happened to be in New York City
and upon picking up a morning paper I read the account of the train
robbery and the description that had been given by the train crew of
the robbers. I immediately telegraphed to the manager of my office
in St. Louis to go and tell Mr. Dixon, of St. Louis, Postoffice Inspector
in charge of the district of Missouri, that I knew who the train
robbers were, and where they could be found, and that I would be
in St. Louis the following Saturday and that I would get the guilty
men and turn them over to him or to his assistants in case he, Mr.
Dixon, and his force had not succeeded in locating and arresting the
guilty men before I returned to St. Louis.
On my return the following Saturday I found Mr. Dixon awaiting me.
I told him that I was satisfied, from the description of the robbers,
that Billy Lowe was the leader in the Glencoe Train Robbery. I told
about having arrested Lowe eleven years before for having taken
part, with others, in the Leads Junction Train Robbery, which had
occurred on the Missouri Pacific Railroad just east and south of
Kansas City. He with the others had held up the train and had blown
the express car to pieces with dynamite. I also told him that I had
finally succeeded in obtaining from Lowe a complete confession as
to the part he had taken in the Leads Robbery, and also the names
of his associates in the crime.
Some of his other companions were also arrested at the time. Lowe
took the witness stand and by his testimony fully substantiated the
confession that he had made to me in the presence of John Hayes,
who was then Chief of Police of Kansas City, Missouri, and D. F.
Harbaugh, one of my men at that time. Lowe afterwards reiterated
this confession to the prosecuting attorney of Kansas City. The
prosecutor's name I do not now remember.
Lowe having taken the witness stand and having promised the Chief
of Police and Prosecuting Attorney and myself that he would
thereafter lead an honest life, the prosecuting attorney annulled the
proceedings against him and after the trial of his associates Lowe
was dismissed. He was a thorough railroad man. He came to St.
Louis and obtained employment as a switchman in the yards of the
Iron Mountain Railroad, where he met and formed the acquaintance
of one George Ebberling, also a switchman. He and Ebberling
became fast friends and continued to work for the Iron Mountain for
several years, when they left the company's service and went to St.
Paul, Minnesota, where they obtained employment in the train
service of the Great Northern Railway Company, and finally worked
their way to Spokane, Washington.
In the meantime I kept track of them, believing that it would be only
a question of time until Lowe would become a train robber again.
During the years of 1908 and 1909 a number of trains were held up
and robbed in the vicinity of Spokane, and I, knowing that Lowe was
there, wrote the officers of the Great Northern Company that I
believed that I knew who the guilty parties were and where they
could be found. But these officers apparently did not deem the
information I had sent them worth answering, as I did not hear from
them.
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