Chapter XII: Preface (12)

Our train met with no further trouble of importance until we arrive at Chamois, the end of the first freight division. Here the foreman of the round house had deserted his post and joined the strikers, and was acting as leader, and not one of the company's employes were on duty--that is, for the company. As soon as we pulled in the strikers surrounded the train, but attempted no acts of violence, they evidently being over-awed at the sight of the twenty-two armed guards. I made a short but "impressive" talk to the men, using as near as I can recall it, the following language:

"Gentlemen, I am special agent of the Missouri Pacific Railroad. These men you see with me here are in my department. We have no grievances against the company and are in no way interested in this strike, except to protect life and property. I want to convey to you, Mr. Foreman, the thanks of the management of the company to yourself and your associates for the good care you have taken of the company's property. I am here now with these men to relieve you of any further responsibility in the matter, and all of you are hereby notified to get off and stay off of the company's right-of-way until the trouble has been satisfactorily adjusted. If you attempt to get back on the right-of-way, or in any manner attempt to interfere with my men while in the discharge of their duties, or with the movement of trains, or commit other depredations, you are liable to get shot."

At the conclusion of my talk the strikers left the company's premises. On investigation I found 19 "dead" engines, that is, 19 engines from which the water had been removed. The supply water tank was also as dry as the proverbial powder horn, and the pumping machinery disabled, parts of the engine having been removed, and as I afterwards learned thrown into the little creek from which the water to supply the tank was obtained. As it was getting late in the day I went over to the hotel to make arrangements for getting supper for my men and crew. The proprietor told me there was nothing doing, as he did not want to take chances on getting his building burned down by the Knights of Labor. All of the balance of the regular eating houses and boarding houses in the town refused to accommodate us for the same reason. They had been notified by the committee not to do so. They would be boycotted if they did, and it had been intimated that even greater punishment might be meted out to them in case the committee's orders were violated. Later a good old German lady named Mrs. Stoeppleman, who had two sons who were loyal employes of the company, sent for me and told me she was not afraid of the Knights of Labor, and cared nothing about a boycott or what her neighbors might say, and she would feed us if we desired her to do so. It is needless to add that we accepted of her hospitality. After a good supper, I learned where the missing parts of the pumping engine had been thrown, and two of my men, Messrs. McCane and Moir, who were both good machinists and engineers, were set to work to repair the engine. The water in the creek, where the missing parts of the engine had been thrown, was about four feet deep, and was partially covered with ice. McCane and Moir entered the icy water, while I and others held torches, and fished out the missing parts. The engine was repaired, and by morning we had the supply tank nearly full of water.

Early the next morning, we fired up one of the dead engines, and attaching it to the train of ten cars, sent it on to Sedalia in charge of a crew and two guards. Leaving eleven men at Chamois in charge of Mr. W. K. Moir, I made up a train of 15 loaded cars, and with the remainder of my men started on our return trip to St. Louis. No trouble occurred until our arrival at Pacific, where the scenes attending our arrival there the day before were partially re-enacted. We got through Pacific without any serious trouble, however, and arrived in St. Louis about 2:00 P. M.

The St. Louis strikers had not been idle while I was out on the road, however. On pulling into the Chouteau Avenue yards the first thing I saw was that the big turntable had been put out of commission. The strikers had deliberately run an engine into the pit, not only blocking the turntable, but badly damaging the engine.

The next morning (Wednesday) Mr. Kerrigan sent for me to call at his office. On arriving I was told that the strikers had attacked the Washington accommodation, containing three coaches loaded with passengers bound for St. Louis, at Gray's Summit, a little station west of Pacific, and had run the train onto a siding and "killed" the engine. I at once repaired to the Chouteau Avenue yards, and taking an engine, attached it to a coach, into which I placed ten picked men, all well armed, and the run was made to Gray's Summit in fairly good time. The strikers and sympathizers soon dispersed when commanded to do so by me. One of my men, Jim McCane, who was an experienced engineer, disconnected the disabled engine, taking off the side rods, and in a remarkably short time we had coupled the disabled engine and the coaches on behind our coach. We then ran our engine to a "Y" west of the little town, and after turning it around brought the passengers safely to St. Louis, where we arrived a little before dark. The rescue of this passenger train was the entering wedge which broke the strike.

On arriving at the roundhouse that evening, a messenger was awaiting me with a note from General Manager Kerrigan, asking me to call at his office at Sixth and Locust streets to consult with the officers of the company. On arriving at Mr. Kerrigan's office I found Mr. Newman, freight traffic manager, and Mr. Werner, the general auditor, awaiting me. These three gentlemen were handling the strike situation for the company in the absence of Vice-President and General Manager Hoxie. They had learned of the conditions at the Chouteau avenue shops, of the running of the engine into the turntable pit, and also of the large number of men the strikers had on guard, both outside and inside of the fence which surrounded the shops. Mr. Kerrigan, recognizing the fact that we could do but little without engines, and as all the engines, save one or two, were safely locked within the round house, expressed himself as wishing to again get possession of the roundhouse. In discussing the best means of doing this the gentlemen thought it best to call on the police department for enough men to drive the strikers away. I told them that it was not necessary to do that, as I could get possession of the shops at any time. "How can you do it, Tom?" asked Mr. Werner. "It will not take as long to do the job as it will to tell you about it," I replied, and further told them that we would be in possession of the shops again by daylight the next morning, if they so desired. They told me to go ahead and get possession of the shops in my own way. At that time I knew where I could get my hands on between forty and sixty of my men. I sent messengers to hunt up these men, instructing them to report to me on the Handlan lot, southeast corner of Grand and Laclede avenues, promptly at 2:30 the next morning. They were further instructed to slip into the rendezvous quietly, not more than one or two going in together at a time, and all were given a pass word by which they would be able to identify each other. At the time fixed, forty-six men had reported, all well armed. I formed them into a double line, and after cautioning them to be careful about stumbling or coughing, or making a noise of any kind, marched them down Grand avenue to the railroad track, and then down to the west gate of the fence surrounding the shops. On arriving there and finding the gate fastened on the inside, four men were boosted over the high fence. These men soon had the gate open and the balance marched in. Immediately on entering the shopyard the men split ranks, half going to the right and the other half to the left, Jim McCane heading one squad and I the other. The strikers had placed pickets every few rods all along the inside of the fence, but our entrance had been made so suddenly and noiselessly that these pickets had no time to sound an alarm. They were quickly disarmed of their clubs, or bludgeons, and taken along with us from one station to the other, until every picket in the yard had been captured. They were taken to the gate and boosted out. We then entered the shops, where we found many strikers asleep on benches and work tables. These were thrown out of the building before they hardly had time to get their eyes open. A good sized crowd of watchers and beer-canners were on the outside of the east gate of the fence. These men, too, were driven from the right-of-way. By daylight we were again in complete possession of the shops, as I had promised my superiors we would be, without a blow being struck or any one hurt.

I then sent trusted men down into the city to the quarters where men out of work usually congregate, with instructions to hire all the men they could find and quietly get them into the shops in small groups. I did not care what the previous occupations of these men had been, just so they were able-bodied. It did not make any difference to me whether they had ever seen the inside of the railroad shop before. All I wanted was men--men who could make a noise. We soon had a sufficient number of these men inside of the shops to serve my purpose. Engines were fired up, fire was built in the blacksmith forges and the big engine in the powerhouse was set in motion. In fact, to those on the outside of the shop who could see the smoke coming out of the smoke stacks and hear the noise, and to those who could get a peep through the gates, the shops presented a scene of great activity. Men were pounding great molten pieces of iron on the blacksmiths' anvils, while others were pounding away on big pieces of boiler iron, but they were not blacksmiths or boilermakers; they were simply playing a part assigned to them by the master mechanic and myself. Other men represented machinists, while others were painters, car repairers and helpers.

Of course, all these actors and guards had to be fed, so we established a commissary and a kitchen and brought in a lot of cots for these men and guards to sleep on, which were placed in the building. To those who are not familiar with the handling of strikers, I will tell why we employed all those unskilled men. It was for the purpose of making the strikers believe that we were fast filling their places, which it did, for in the next day or so many of the men who went out quietly made application for reinstatement. In many instances these applications were acted upon favorably and the men put to work, and the backbone of the strike was thus broken.

As on all such occasions, many acts of violence were committed. When the strikers learned that men were being slipped into the shops they were very wroth. Now and then one of the strike breakers would stray away from the shops. They were fortunate, indeed, if they did not fall into the hands of the pickets, for if they did, and which was usually the case, they were badly beaten. Of course, we always attempted to prevent the men going out after they were once inside of the enclosure, knowing what they would be up against, but we were not always successful in keeping them inside. On the second day, after we had retaken the shops, a coach painter named Haller, who had been employed at the shops for several months, and who was at home at the bedside of a sick wife when the strike was called, showed up at the shops and resumed work. At quitting time that evening he picked up his dinner bucket and started down the track to Jefferson avenue, as had been his custom. On arriving at Jefferson avenue he was approached by a number of pickets, who remonstrated with him for going to work. "I cannot afford to loaf now, as my wife has been sick a long time," said Haller; "besides, I am satisfied with the wages I am receiving and intend to keep on working," and started up Jefferson avenue towards his home, which was in the 2600 block on either Franklin or Easton avenues. The pickets began to assault him with rocks and clubs, and he sought to escape them by running. At every step, almost, the ranks of the mob were augmented. As Haller ran past the strikers' headquarters, which were in Eutopia Hall, at Walnut and Jefferson avenues, a crowd of several hundred joined in the chase. The long run up the hill had winded Haller. Besides he had been weakened by the blows which had been showered upon him. Seeing that he could not make his escape on account of his weakened condition, he backed up against a brick building at the northwest corner of the street named and stopped. A big bully rushed up to him and struck him, whereupon Haller jerked out a revolver and shot his assailant, who dropped dead in his tracks. This stopped the mob from doing further violence to him. The police from the mounted district rushed to the scene and placed Haller under arrest. No attempt was made to arrest any of the mob. Later in the evening he was removed to a cell in central station, from which the company's officials, at my request, secured his release on bond. He was later acquitted by a coroner's jury, and in a day or so thereafter was again back at work. After that, for quite a while, I sent a guard home with him each evening, but no attempt was made to molest him. This, I believe, was the only fatality growing out of the strike in St. Louis. Mr. Haller is now a prosperous business man in St. Louis, and is highly respected by all who know him.

Thursday afternoon the big crane at the shops was rigged up for business, and, under the guidance of skilled men in my employ, ran out to the edge of the roundhouse pit, into which the strikers had dumped an engine, as referred to before in this article. This engine so blocked the turntable that not one of the company's engines in the roundhouse could be taken out. The engine was lifted out of the pit, and in a short time the turntable was in working order. That same evening, I decided to straighten out things at Pacific. To do this I had made up my mind to place the ring-leaders of the mob which had attacked the train there earlier in the week under arrest. I knew it would take quite a force of men to do this, so I instructed twenty of my men to assemble quietly in the neighborhood of St. Malachy's church, at 29th and Clark avenues, at ten o'clock that night. They were to come to the rendezvous in ones and twos, and instructed to do nothing that would attract attention. I had an engine and caboose in waiting at the shops, and when the men had all assembled they were marched to the caboose, and between 11 and 12 o'clock we started to Pacific. On arriving at the first cut east of the town the little train was stopped and left in the cut under guard of the engineer and fireman, and two of my men. The engine carried no lights, and no sound had announced our arrival near the town. In fact, we approached it as quietly as possible. The men were divided into two squads, one headed by Billy Bonnell and the other by myself. We then marched into town and to the homes of the men wanted. They were aroused from their slumber and placed under arrest. We had no trouble, except at the home of a big blacksmith, who had been especially prominent in the riot at the sand bin the day we ran the first train through the town after the strike had been called. He was soon subdued, however, and taken with the balance of the men arrested, to the caboose, which had been left standing on the track near the edge of the town. Many of these men were still suffering from the blows they had received at the hands of the guards who were on the train they had attacked. Davis, the leader of the mob, who was hit on the head with a coupling pin by Marshall F. McDonald, for attempting to derail the caboose of the train attacked, had his head still covered with bandages.

After all the men had been arrested, we boarded the train with our prisoners and ran to Washington, where we loaded them into hacks and wagons and took them to Union, the county seat of Franklin County, where they were placed in jail. In due time they were tried before Judge Seay, and vigorously prosecuted by Prosecuting Attorney Gallencamp, and all of them convicted. Davis, the leader, was given three years in the penitentiary, while the blacksmith and several others were let off with lighter terms, and the balance of the men, who proved to be mere tools of the leaders, at my suggestion, were given jail sentences. Davis, after entering the penitentiary, contracted consumption, and after serving a little over half his time, was pardoned so he might go home to die. He was released from prison one Saturday, returning to Pacific at once. The following Monday he died.

Two of the gentlemen connected with the trial of these strikers have since made reputations for themselves. Judge Gallencamp, who prosecuted the cases, is now, and has been for several years, Surveyor of the Port of St. Louis, while Judge Seay, who presided, has received high honors at the hands of the people of Oklahoma, his new home, he having served as governor at one time. Mr. W. K. Moir, whom I left in charge of Chamois, proved to be a valuable man for the company. He being a good engineer and machinist he was retained there as general foreman for several years, until the division was removed to Jefferson City. He was then given an engine in the yards of the company at that point, but later resigned and moved to St. Louis, where he continued to reside until his death, which occurred a few years ago.

The St. Louis strikers made their headquarters in Eutopia Hall, Jefferson avenue and Walnut street, and an ex-convict named Martin O'Neal usually presided over the meetings. I lived, at that time, at 2729 Walnut street. My wife was very sick, being confined to her bed, and many of these strikers in going to and from their meetings always passed by the house, and never failed to jeer at the children, if they happened to be in the yard, and otherwise conducted themselves in a rude manner. One striker, a tough switchman named Duffy, went so far as to enter the yard and ring the door bell a couple of times, when he knew I was not at home, and when the door was opened by my little daughter, had forced his way into the house. He would then let on as though he wanted to see me, telling my daughter that he knew all about a conspiracy to take my life, and his call was for the purpose of putting me on my guard. His story and rudeness always frightened my family very badly, they thinking that possibly there might be some truth in his story. I knew Duffy and his reputation as a general bad man, and knew he had no business with me. I also knew he was aware of my whereabouts during business hours, and I decided to put a stop to his visits at my private home at the first opportunity. As luck would have it, I was at the house the next time he called, one night about ten o'clock. I had slipped home to spend a few moments with my sick wife, and had been in the house only a short time, when the door bell rang. My daughter saw him enter the yard from the window, and called me. I answered the ring of the bell by opening the door and grabbing Duffy by the collar and jerking him inside. I at once went to work on him with both fists. He was either too cowardly or his surprise was too great for him to make any resistance. After I had given him a few good stiff jabs, he began to beg for his life. "I am not going to kill you, you cur," I rejoined, "but I am going to teach you better than to come to my home," and I lit into him again. After punching him until I was tired, I let up. I then issued a few orders for the cowering wretch's guidance in the future, and also sent a message to his followers, couched in about the following language, "You people can go up and down this street, of course, but don't any of you let me catch you on this side of it. Another thing, I will 'get' the next one of your cowardly curs who jeers at this house again while passing. I don't want any of you to ever even look at my house. If you do, and I find it out, there will be trouble." After making him promise to deliver the message, I again grabbed him by the collar, and pulling the door open, booted him into the street. I always gave Duffy credit for delivering the message, for that gang always behaved themselves when passing the house thereafter, and always kept to the other side of the street.

St. Louis was not the only scene of rioting and mob violence during the strike. At Sedalia, where the main engine building plant of the company is located, and where about 2000 machinists and other shopmen were employed, conditions were very bad. Sedalia was also the headquarters of the operating department of the "Katy," one of the Gould properties, and a division point for all Missouri Pacific lines at that time running through Missouri. In fact, it was what might be called a railroad town. It was also the main headquarters of the strikers. The Knights of Labor were very strong, even most of the business men of the city belonging to the order. The strikers had their own way for several days. Each attempt on the part of Superintendent Sibley to move trains was the signal for rioting. To illustrate the boldness of the strikers, I will relate one incident. Adjutant General J. C. Jamison, of Governor Marmaduke's staff, had been sent to Sedalia to investigate conditions there. He went to the yards and with two police officers, boarded an engine, attached to a train, which the officials were attempting to get out of the yards. The engine was given steam and the train started. Before it had gone a hundred yards, however, a mob climbed aboard the engine, stopped the train, uncoupled the engine from the train, put on steam, and ran the engine down the Katy track about two miles, and after letting all the water out of the boiler, ran the engine back to the yards and into the roundhouse. No attempt was made to harm the adjutant general and the police officers by the mob. Immediately on the arrival of the captured engine at the roundhouse, the leaders of the mob, who proved to be John Perry and Fred Page, two of Martin Irons' most trusted lieutenants, were placed under arrest by Chief of Police Barnett of Sedalia and a couple of his officers. The arrest caused one of the worst riots ever witnessed in the little city. The men were finally locked up, however, by the plucky Chief of Police, but were soon released on bond. This riot caused a change of sentiment on the part of the business men, which up to this time had been with the strikers entirely, and within a few days enough volunteer guards had been secured to handle the situation. Traffic was then resumed on the roads. Many of the ringleaders were indicted by the Grand Jury, but none of them were tried, they being allowed to leave the county.

At Kansas City, Parsons, Denison, Ft. Worth, Palestine, Little Rock, and many other places much rioting was indulged in by the strikers, and much property was destroyed, and worse, several lives were sacrificed.

Martin Irons, after the strike, was completely deserted by the men whom he had led, and became a wanderer and an outcast, a veritable human derelict. His constitution had become so weakened by the excessive use of liquor that he could not hold a job as a machinist, although he was a good workman. He then tried lecturing, but in this he was not successful. Later he opened a lunch counter at Kansas City. This enterprise was also a failure. He finally wandered down into Arkansas, and one morning was found dead in a hovel. Never was the biblical admonition, "As ye sow, so shall ye reap," more plainly illustrated than in the case of poor Martin Irons.

WHY I OPPOSE REWARDS.

IT OFTEN IS AN INCENTIVE FOR UNSCRUPULOUS OFFICERS TO CONVICT INNOCENT PERSONS--RULE REGARDING DIVORCE CASES.

I do not believe in rewards, and in all my long career, have made it a rule to never work for, or receive one, no matter how great the amount offered for the arrest and conviction of the guilty party, or parties--this being the usual way that the heading of a reward is written.

Nor do I believe in or engage in procuring evidence in divorce cases.

However, I can see no objection to the offering of a reward for the apprehension or capture of a fugitive who is known to have committed a certain crime against the law, and for whom a warrant has been issued, and I believe the detective, or any other person, who makes the arrest would have the right to accept such reward.

Where the reward is offered for the arrest and conviction of some person, for a crime that has been committed, and the guilty party, or parties, is unknown, I, from personal experience, have been led to the belief that the offering of a reward, especially a large reward, is an incentive for unscrupulous people, and especially unscrupulous officers of the law, to fasten the crime on some unfortunate, or perhaps some dishonest or undesirable citizen, which can be found in almost any community, in order to obtain the reward. These unfortunate people are easier to convict of a crime than persons who have always borne a good reputation. Then, again, the offering of a reward for criminals whose identity is unknown, tends to keep a certain class of people from divulging facts that they may know, which might, if properly utilized, lead to the identity, arrest and conviction of the perpetrators of the crime for which the reward was offered.

To make it more plain, when a crime has been committed, and no reward is offered, this same class of people are more liable to "come out from under cover" and tell what they know about the facts in their possession, believing them of no material value to the officers engaged in running down the culprit.

Experienced detectives have been very often handicapped by reason of a reward having been offered, and, for this reason, I have always made it a rule to pay no attention to rewards.

While I am satisfied that it is, in many cases, necessary for the purification and preservation of society, to thoroughly investigate divorce cases as it is to apprehend and convict people who have committed a theft or other crimes, by reason of the fact that there are so many crooked and unscrupulous men, who claim to be detectives, and who make the divorce business their specialty, in order to elevate myself and my service from the level of this class of people, I formed a rule, at the beginning of my career, not to have anything to do with divorce cases. This rule I have always rigidly enforced.

WHY I AM OPPOSED TO HANGING.

AVERSION TO THIS MODE OF EXECUTION WAS CAUSED BY AN INCIDENT WHICH HAPPENED AT BELLEVILLE ILLINOIS, YEARS AGO--THROUGH THE TRAP WITH A MURDERER.

In my younger days I was a firm believer in hanging as a means of capital punishment, but I do not hold the same views now, and have not for a long time. As my friends have often asked me what caused me to change my mind on this matter, I am now going to take them into my confidence, and tell them all about it.

Several years ago I had some important business to transact with Sheriff Ropiequet of St. Clair County, Illinois. I went to his office in the Court House at Belleville. The deputy in charge informed me that the sheriff was over in the jail yard putting the finishing touches to arrangements for hanging a negro named Johnson, who had been convicted of killing his wife in a most brutal manner. The deputy further informed me that if my business was important, I had better go to the jail at once, as the sheriff would probably be too busy later to see me until after dinner. Acting on this tip, I at once went to the jail and was admitted. The sheriff told me he was too busy at the time to attend to the business, and would be until after the hanging, and invited me to witness the execution, which was to take place in a few moments. I cared nothing about this, as the witnessing of executions had long since ceased to be a novelty to me, but under the circumstances, I accepted the invitation.

The scaffold had been erected in the yard surrounding the jail. The platform, which was about eight feet square, rested on four upright posts, about six and a half feet from the ground. The trap door, which was about three feet square, was located in the center of the platform, and fastened to one end by two hinges, opening downward. The other end was fastened on the underside by a bolt, or trigger, the pulling of which would allow the body to drop down through the platform. On the center of the trap door was a soap box, on which the culprit was to stand while awaiting the arranging of the noose, one end of which ran around a pulley fastened to a cross-beam above the platform, so that the rope could be adjusted to the proper length. A stairway, about three feet wide, had been built from the ground to the platform.

Within a few minutes, the sheriff and condemned man, accompanied by a priest and a deputy sheriff, appeared at the door leading from the jail to the yard in which the execution was to take place. As they marched toward the scaffold the sheriff commanded me to join the procession, which I did, following the party up the stairway to the platform. The condemned man appeared cool and walked with a firm step. I took a position to the right of him, while the sheriff stood at his left. The priest and deputy stood just back of us. After the man who was about to be hanged had taken his position on the box on the trap, he was asked if he had anything to say, as is usual on such occasions. The negro made a complete confession of his guilt, but claimed that the drinking of bad whiskey was the real cause of his committing the crime, and admonished all within the hearing of his voice to beware of strong drink. At the conclusion of his talk, the deputy bound his legs and tied his hands behind him, while the sheriff adjusted the black cap. The negro had an exceedingly long head and neck, and as a result the cap did not cover all of his neck, there being a space of an inch or two between the bottom of the cap and the top of his coat collar. Just as the sheriff placed the noose around the condemned man's neck, but before the officers had time to tighten the rope, it came in contact with the bare place on the negro's neck, and he fainted. The sheriff grabbed one arm and I the other to keep the fainting man from falling from the platform. In doing this we both stepped on the trap. The deputy became rattled and pulled the trigger at this moment, and all three of us started down through the trap together. Now the sheriff was a very large man, and I was no infant myself, so when all three of our bodies reached the level of the platform we became wedged in the opening. The noose had become taut, just enough to strangle the negro a little, and he commenced to kick and squirm. Finally his body squeezed on down, relieving the pressure on the sheriff and me, and we both, too, fell through to the ground. We were not harmed and were soon on our feet. Because of the fact that the rope had not been adjusted to the proper length, the negro's toes touched the ground, thus preventing the breaking of his neck. He strangled to death, however, in a few minutes. Since this incident I have been opposed to hanging as a means of capital punishment.

A CROOKED DOCTOR'S CRIME.

ARREST OF THE CULPRIT, AND HIS CUNNING ATTEMPT TO PUT HIS CAPTOR OUT OF THE WAY IN AN EFFORT TO MAKE HIS ESCAPE.

In 1873, Mrs. Boardman, a widow woman with a large family of grown children, resided on a small farm in Venango County, Pennsylvania, a few miles east of Oil City. She became acquainted with a Hebrew doctor, who called himself Dr. Solomon Steinman. He practiced medicine for a short time in and about Rouseville, Pennsylvania.

There were a number of producing oil wells on Mrs. Boardman's farm, and she, from the royalty obtained from the products of these wells, had accumulated quite a sum of money. The doctor, representing himself as a bachelor, managed to grow into the good graces of the widow, notwithstanding the fact that she was the mother of two sons who were almost as old as himself. In a remarkably short space of time the doctor succeeded in obtaining ten thousand dollars of the widow's money, having represented to her that he would invest it for her in property that would yield fabulous profits; but instead of making the investment, he quite suddenly left for parts unknown.

The widow's sons, on hearing that their mother had been swindled, reported the matter to me, I being Chief of Police of Oil City. They requested me to locate and cause the arrest of the doctor on the charge of obtaining money under false pretense. I undertook the task of learning his whereabouts, and it seemed impossible to get any trace of him. He had disappeared from his boarding house, telling no person of his intention of leaving, and no trace could be found that would indicate where he had gone. He was at his boarding house for supper on the evening of his departure, and quietly left, after eating his evening meal, as though he was going to a cigar store or a barber shop, leaving what wardrobe he had, grip and other articles, in his room, and disappeared as effectually as though the ground had opened up and engulfed him.

The evening trains had all left the town before he had left his boarding house, so that he was obliged to have left the town on foot. No one around Rouseville had ever seen a picture of him. He was a small man, dark complexioned, about forty-five years of age, five feet, six inches in height, and weighed about one hundred and thirty pounds, was smooth shaven, had black curly hair sprinkled with gray, and had a decided Hebrew countenance. About five months after his disappearance, in looking over one of the morning papers, I noticed a short article, giving an account of a Dr. Lewis who had been arrested on the charge of malpractice, at Bay City, Michigan, the day before. This article gave a minute description of the man arrested, and from this description, which answered the one that I had of Dr. Steinman, I concluded that I had found the person I was looking for. I took the first train to Bay City and found Dr. Lewis in his office, he having been released on a two thousand, five hundred dollar cash bond, which he had placed in the hands of the committing magistrate. I also learned that the man giving the name of Dr. Lewis was none other than Dr. Steinman.

He had already been indicted in Venango County, Pennsylvania, for obtaining money under false pretense, and the prosecuting officer of Bay City, being willing to surrender him to me, I had no trouble in obtaining the necessary requisition papers. After getting the papers I left Bay City with my prisoner.

I searched him carefully and took charge of all his personal effects. We took the train for Detroit, Michigan, arriving there in the afternoon. I locked him up in the police station until ten o'clock that evening, when I took him to the dock and boarded a steamer for Cleveland, Ohio. It was the old steamer Northwestern, and our state room was on the upper deck, pretty well forward.

We left Detroit about ten-thirty o'clock that night, and were due to arrive at Cleveland in the morning between four and five o'clock. We retired about midnight. I assigned the upper berth to the prisoner, while I occupied the lower. As I said before, I had searched him thoroughly before leaving Bay City.

About two o'clock in the morning, after leaving Detroit, I dozed off to sleep, when I suddenly awakened and smelled the strong odor of chloroform. The stateroom was dark, but I reached up towards the upper berth and my hand came in contact with the doctor's. He was holding a cone that he had made from a towel, and had reached down from his berth and was holding this cone over a four ounce bottle of chloroform, and was trying to put me to sleep for good, but the first breath that I had inhaled, after he had placed the chloroform over my face, aroused me. I grabbed his arm, pulled him out of his berth onto the deck in front of the room, and would have thrown him into Lake Erie, were it not for the fact that he yelled at the top of his voice, and aroused the lookout on duty at the forward end of the vessel, and also the wheelman, both of whom reached us in time to prevent me from drowning the doctor. If I had carried out my intention of throwing him overboard, nothing could have saved him from drowning. I then made him dress himself and took him down to the forecastle, where the captain placed two of the crew to guard him until we arrived in Cleveland.

I have never learned how, or where, the doctor secured the bottle of chloroform, as I had searched him thoroughly, and I am positive he did not have it on him when we left Bay City, and have come to the conclusion that he must have secured it while he was in the lock-up at Detroit. Of course, I did not search him there.

During the Civil War, on December 20, 1861, I received a gun shot wound above the right knee, at the battle of Drainesville, Virginia, and before the doctor began to dress the wound he administered chloroform to me. The after effects of the stuff were very disagreeable and I did not get over it for a long time, and resolved that I would never again take chloroform under any circumstances. I really suffered more from the nasty stuff than I did from the wound. This, I presume, accounts for the shock the odor of the chloroform produced on me.

I arrived with the prisoner at Oil City in due time. He was tried at the first term of court thereafter, and convicted and sentenced to the penitentiary for a term of ten years.

I succeeded in locating and recovering nearly five thousand dollars of the money the doctor had fraudulently secured from the widow. This was returned to her by due process of law.

CAPTURE OF A CLEVER SWINDLER.

SAM BENARD'S UNIQUE METHOD OF DEFRAUDING THE RAILROADS--HOW HE DID THE WORK--HIS CONVICTION AFTER A LONG CHASE.

Between the years of 1870 and 1876 the railroads of this country had been swindled, time after time, by some unknown person changing the address on an invoice of goods after it had reached the railroad office. This was done on an order which purported to come from the firm which had shipped the goods.

In February of 1876, a shipment of gentlemen's dress goods was sent to A. A. Alden and Company of Franklin, Pennsylvania, by Brock and Weiner of Buffalo. The consignment was valued at $721.19. A few minutes after the goods had been delivered at the freight office, a man entered and told the agent that the boxes had been marked with the name of the wrong town; that they should go to Corry, Pennsylvania, instead of Franklin. The agent demanded an order from the firm, before making the change. The pretended clerk wrote out the order, signing the firm name to it, and the address, Corry, was substituted for that of Franklin. This being done, the supposed clerk went to Corry. Here he pretended that he was a merchant from New York, and that he was to open an auction store in the town. The merchant tailors did not like to have their trade injured in this manner, so offered to buy the goods. The pretended merchant sold them at a much reduced price, and received a check for three hundred fifty nine dollars and sixty cents. He indorsed the check with A. A. Alden's name, thus adding forgery to his other crimes. Then the case was given to me.

Two weeks went by without a clue to the swindler. I found that other detectives had been hunting for a man who had played the same game in other cities, but the culprit had guarded himself so well that even his real name was unknown. From the descriptions obtained and from his general manner of operation, it was known that the same person had been operating on all the roads where this swindling had occurred. One day while in Buffalo, I chanced to go into a cigar store. At this time the newspapers were full of the swindle, and some of the people in the store were discussing the affair. An old gentleman who was among those present said that a young man who had been employed in the same store with himself, about six years previously, had swindled his employers in the same manner. This was in Rochester. I took the hint and after questioning the old man I found that the name of his former working companion was William Benard. I went to Rochester, and while there obtained the names of some of his acquaintances, and finally found a photograph of him. The description given me by the detectives tallied with the photograph of Benard. I therefore made up my mind that Benard was the man I wanted. After further inquiry I found that relations of Benard lived in Detroit, Michigan. I went there and obtained information as to the whereabouts of the swindler. I followed him through Montreal, Canada; Cincinnati, Cleveland, Indianapolis, Toledo, Chicago, to St. Louis. He was known in all these places as "Jew Harry." It seemed that it was impossible to find a detective in any one place who had not at some time or other been on Benard's tracks.

On my arrival in St. Louis, June 26, 1876, I went to the office of Chief of Police McDonohue at once. I told him who I was and that I had information which led me to believe that Benard had worked in St. Louis. When the Chief, who was very portly, and somewhat gruff, heard this, he straightened up in his chair, and said, "It is impossible. That fellow would not dare to come to St. Louis. He would be afraid. He knows he could not work any such game in this town. My police would be sure to get him." I then told the Chief that I had reason to believe that Benard had been in St. Louis within the last few days. This idea the Chief fairly ridiculed. Just at this moment a rather elderly man entered the office, in a very excited manner. He had brown hair, streaked with gray, and wore short side-burns, or galways, as they are sometimes called. He asked if he could see the Chief for a few minutes, so I at once rose to leave the office. The Chief told me to remain, then asked the visitor to state his business.

He told the Chief that his name was H. M. Smith, and that he was a pawnbroker, in business at Eighth and Morgan streets. He then went on to say that a man giving the name of Solomon, representing that he was from Cleveland, Ohio, had called on him a few days previous. He had represented himself as a pawnbroker, and had presented the business card of Solomon & Company of Cleveland. Mr. Smith told him that he knew of the firm, but never had the pleasure of meeting a member of it. Solomon then told Smith that he had a nephew who had been in business with him for years, but that he had gone out west, in the mining district of Colorado, and opened up a pawnshop of his own. There was then a large demand for revolvers and pistols of heavy caliber, and that he had ordered about two thousand dollars' worth of heavy caliber guns and ammunition from the Simmons Hardware Company of St. Louis. After he had placed the order with the request that it be packed and shipped immediately, he had received a telegram from his nephew stating that he had gotten into trouble and had been forced to leave the country; and, therefore, could not take the order from Simmons. He requested Solomon to call at Simmons and cancel the order. The Simmons people informed Solomon that as the fire-arms were already packed and in the freight-house, preparatory for shipping, they could not cancel the order. Solomon then said to Smith, "I have no use for these pistols and guns, and I can't ship them to my nephew in Colorado since he has left there. I will have these goods brought up to your store and you can examine them. Then if you find them just as I have represented, I will let you have them at your own price. You can easily sell them and make some money on them."

Mr. Smith assented. Solomon then went and got a drayman and had the fire-arms brought to Smith's office from the freight depot. Solomon got there about the time the goods did and had the cases opened. Smith found the goods were just as Solomon represented, so he told Solomon that he would give him eleven hundred dollars for them, which was about half their value. Solomon, with tears in his eyes, accepted Smith's check for that amount, and left for parts unknown. On the morning of my arrival and while I was talking to Chief McDonohue, Smith had received by mail, a bill for the goods from Simmons Hardware Company which extended to him the privilege of discounting the bill, and that upon making immediate payment, he might deduct the usual percent. Whereupon Mr. Smith called upon the Simmons Hardware Company, and was there informed that a man resembling him very much, had called there and selected the bill of goods, and had also presented Smith's business card. They thought it was Mr. Smith, and, upon finding him all right formerly, had unhesitatingly packed and shipped the goods as directed.

Smith and Benard looked very much alike, wearing the same style of beard and having about the same complexion. Smith's description of Solomon, who was really Benard, was very accurate; and finally wound up by saying that Solomon looked enough like him to be his younger brother.

While Smith was telling the Chief this story I was listening, and when he began to describe Solomon, I asked the Chief if I might be permitted to ask Mr. Smith a few questions.

"Why, certainly," replied the Chief.

"Do you think," I then said to Smith, "that you would know this man, Solomon, if you should see him again?"

"Surely!" answered Mr. Smith. "I would know him anywhere."

I then took Benard's picture from my pocket, and asked Smith if that resembled Solomon. He threw up his hands, and exclaimed:

"Why! That is him! That's an excellent picture of him!"

I then turned to the Chief and said, "Chief, it seems that Benard was not afraid to come to St. Louis, after all."

I then got busy and learned that Benard had left St. Louis over the Burlington and had gone to Quincy, Illinois, a few days before my arrival. I then took the first train for Quincy. There I learned of a similar swindle with a case of goods shipped to Edina, Missouri.

I left at once for Edina. There the freight agent informed me that a man named Solomon, and answering to the description of Benard, had called for a case of goods; but the agent, who was a relative of the party to whom the goods had been originally consigned, had refused to deliver them until presented with some identification. Just about this time I received word that Solomon was walking out of town. I pursued him, arrested him and brought him back to town. At first he denied everything, even his photograph, but finally consented to go with me when I brought out other proofs. I at once applied for a requisition from the authorities.

After the capture of Benard at Edina, by me, Benard's lawyer insisted that he could not be taken to Pennsylvania while he stood charged with a felony in Missouri. Therefore, when he made his plea, I telegraphed a friend in St. Louis to employ a good criminal lawyer, and have him report to me at Edina. My friend employed Col. Nat. C. Claiborne, of St. Louis. At the same time I wired Mr. Smith to come at once, or send his son, Sam, to Edina, for the purpose of identifying Solomon. In due time both Sam Smith and Col. Claiborne arrived in Edina. Col. Claiborne was an old citizen, and was well known all over the state. He was acquainted with the Judge of Knox County, and had him convene a special term of Court and empanel a special Grand Jury. I arranged to have witnesses appear before the Grand Jury, which immediately indicted Benard for the Edina swindle, Col. Claiborne assisting the Prosecuting Attorney at Edina, for the State. Benard was convicted and sent to the penitentiary at Jefferson City, Mo., for four years. I accompanied him to Jefferson City, where I procured a duplicate of the receipt for the body of Benard, from the Warden of the Missouri Penitentiary, and previously a certified copy of the proceedings at the trial and conviction in Knox County, which I turned over to the officers of the Allegheny Valley Railroad on my return to Pittsburgh. This satisfied them, but not so well as if I had extradited Benard and brought him back to Pennsylvania for trial.