Chapter III: Part 3

All of the farmers in the vicinity had been warned to take the strictest care of their horses for fear that the robbers would appropriate them. In accordance with these suggestions Mr. Vincent had turned his horses into a concealed meadow, and locked his barn strongly, after removing all except his cart harness to the house. However, the cunning robbers found the animal, and breaking into the barn improvised a bridle with a halter and an old bit, cutting the long lines of the cart harness for reins, girth and stirrups. The next morning the poor old black horse, which bore an admirable reputation for honesty, was found meekly standing in the door yard evidently ashamed of the Tam O’Shanter ride in which he had assisted. He was dirty, and lame, and his sides bled from the wounds inflicted by the cruel spurs of the bandits.

ON THE NEW TRAIL.

A large number of hunters were soon on the scene of the affair and efforts were made to follow the trail with lanterns, but nothing was accomplished except to establish the identity of the robbers by the impress of a boot leaving a

SMALL HEEL AND SQUARE TOE,

and which had been the guiding mark wherever the trail had been struck. At daylight the trail was found by the impatient hunters, and it was rapidly followed to the Seymour farm about four miles away across the fields. Here the fleeing villains had unceremoniously helped themselves to a splendid team of large gray mares, owned by Geo. Rockwood, who was engaged in haying on the farm. These animals were reputed to be the best in the county, and their subsequent achievements proved that their reputation was merited. The robbers had appropriated bridles, but finding no saddles they proceeded, riding bareback. It is supposed that they stole these horses at about three o’clock Friday morning, and it was nearly six o’clock before it became known, so that pursuit could be organized.

Couriers were dispatched to recall the pickets, and no time was lost in arranging a pursuit.

BREAKFAST AND A HAT.

Soon news arrived by telegraph that the robbers had called at the house of a farmer named Jackson, two miles northwest of Madelia, at 6 o’clock, and asked for something to eat. On being told that breakfast was not ready, and urged to dismount and wait for it, they said they did not want breakfast, only a loaf of bread. The good wife gave them what they asked for, and they insisted upon paying for it. Mrs. Jackson finally accepted ten cents.

One of the visitors was hatless, and he asked if they could not provide him with an old one, as his had blown off into a swamp. Mrs. Jackson said that they had only a new one which she had bought for her son the day before. This the robber persuaded her to sell him for $1.50, and then both started off at a brisk pace.

At 1:30 p. m., the fugitives called at the farm of Andrew Nelson, four miles directly west of Madelia, and asked a few questions in regard to the roads, and at two o’clock they called at another house on the same errand. They made excellent headway, for later in the afternoon they were seen near Mountain Lake, some seventeen miles from Madelia. The alarm had been flashed ahead over the wires, and squads were turning out from all points in hot pursuit.

CAVALRY RAID BY RAILROAD.

As soon as possible a special train consisting of an engine and two box-cars was dispatched to Lake Crystal and placed at the disposal of Gen. Pope, by the active and accommodating manager of the Sioux City railroad. Two squads of eight carefully chosen men each were detailed to proceed under command of Sheriff Barton, of Rice county, and Detective Hoy, of Minneapolis. Barton’s detachment transported eight horses, but Hoy decided to rely upon the farmers for his stock. The former went directly to Windom, and the latter to Mountain Lake, from which points they started north, hoping to intercept the robbers. However, their efforts were futile, as it was subsequently learned that the desperadoes had passed, and were headed in a northwesterly direction.

ON THE BOUNDLESS PRAIRIE.

On the evening of Friday, the railroad was again resorted to and a squad was dispatched to a point certainly in advance of the bandits, hoping to arouse the inhabitants away from the railroad and telegraph. On the train was Sheriff McDonald, of Woodbury county, Dakota territory, and it was arranged between him and Sheriff Dill, who led the squad, that he should proceed immediately to Sioux City, organize two squads, and make for Sioux Falls by two routes. An account of the last days of the hunt for these two fugitives in this State will be found in the following special telegram forwarded by the writer to the St. Paul _Pioneer-Press._

THREE DAYS’ HUNT.

“I took the train for Heron Like, with Sheriff Dill and ten men, including Brissette, Clark, Harrison, Brosseau, Gail, Avery, Richardson and Church. Arrived there at 11:30, roused the inhabitants, and were soon under way in teams for Lake Shetek. The citizens were eager to assist and ready to go to the front. At sunrise took a farmer’s family by surprise, but got a good breakfast, our tired squad tumbling into warm beds. We were left by the inmates of the house to sleep an hour and a half, and then started, feeling better for a chicken stew. Reached the town of Currie, Lake Shetek township, at noon. Traveled in heavy farm wagons over bad roads. Here found the little community ready to assist in any way. Our theory was that the robbers would take”

ONE OF THREE TRAILS PASSING BETWEEN

Shetek and Luverne, and on the way out left six pickets to guard the lower trails—Brissette, Clark and Brosseau, one squad; three Winona men another; Erwin and Harrison were mounted well and served as scouts. It was thought that the most likely course for the robbers was by the upper trail, hence the scouts accompanied the commander, in order to communicate with the pickets eight and five miles below. Dill quickly found men at his disposal, and soon had twenty pickets posted north and south. Just at night Erwin and Harrison dashed in and reported that the robbers had called at the house of Mr. Swan, at the crossing of the Des Moines river, Lime Creek township, five miles south of Shetek, at two. This was on Saturday. There was only a woman at the house. The description of the outlaws was accurate. They were still on the gray horses, stolen near Lake Crystal. They did not get off their horses, and asked for bread. The woman asked them to come in, but they declined, and after they got bread and milk, they asked for meat. They said they were after horse-thieves, and started southwest. Later they were seen at the Lutheran church, in the town of Center, Murray township, from which point they went southwest, striking the

LAST HOUSE ON THE FRONTIER

at section twenty-two, town one hundred and six, range forty-one, at 4:30. They were tracked here by Avery, Gail and Richardson, of Winona, and a courier brought the news to the scouts. This news caused Dill to decide that they were making for the “Lost Timber,” a natural hiding place. Recruits were called for and couriers dispatched to call in the pickets in other directions, to concentrate on that point. A squad consisting of thirty was raised, ten being mounted. No time was lost, and through the cold, dismal night,

A FORCED MARCH

was made to Lowville, where we arrived in a big thunder storm, at one, Sunday morning. Rested here for a hot lunch at Bartlett Low’s until five o’clock, when the extra horsemen started across the broad prairie to the famous “Lost Timber,” which it was calculated was in advance of the robbers, as it was supposed they must rest after their superhuman efforts. The roads were heavy. We reached the destination at ten, and found Erwin and Harrison with six riders, who had been skirmishing all night at the spot, and had established

CAMP COLE YOUNGER.

They had picketed their horses in a deep ravine, and deployed men on the row of high mounds commanding the prairie, and five miles down “Lost Timber” valley. On arriving there, Dill’s pickets were carried out three miles each way, and a watch kept for four hours. Scouts were sent down the valley, and and the pockets or ravines examined. At two p. m., no tidings being received, a council was held, and it was agreed that the robbers must have changed their route. Dill had been sanguine in regard to the Luverne route, and he, Church of Northfield, and I took a team for that point, leaving most of the party to push on to Pipestone, on the northern trail, knowing plenty of men could be started from Luverne. A ride of twenty tedious miles brought us to this point at 7:30 p. m. Found the town in an uproar of excitement, as news had been sent from Worthington and a special train dispatched with twenty men to guard the trail passing the town. About noon Sunday, a man named Rolfe, living eleven miles north of town, on the west bank of Rock river, came in and reported, that at 7:30 while he was away from the house, two men called at his house and asked for breakfast. They got off their gray horses, and went into the house. The woman asked them to take off their rubber coats. They refused to do so, and seemed very lame, and shuffled along,

UNABLE TO LIFT THEIR LEGS.

Mrs. Rolfe asked if they were sick. One said their horses had ran away and broke the wagon on the prairie, and they were forced to take to horse. He said he had got the rheumatism and his comrade had broken two ribs in falling from the wagon. This one gave evidence of a bad wound in the right side, and could scarcely sit up to eat breakfast. He refused tea and asked for milk. When they paid for their breakfast they did not unbutton their coats, but reached up under. It took a long time to mount, and they had to climb upon the fence and slide on to their horses. Both wore rubber coats, one torn on the right side, and one had fine boots with small heel and square toes. The boots were red from walking through the grass. They had bags filled with straw for saddles, and old ropes looped for stirrups. They moved slowly away southward. The robbers stopped at the house of Davis, in Springwater, and were given bread and butter. They staid fifteen minutes. From here they crossed the road northward from Luverne. As these reports came in, the citizens were roused and the

PURSUIT WAS HOT.

They had been noticed by parties driving into town. At three they were seen by Mr. Howard, who thought they were pleasure riders. They drove on a high knoll and surveyed the country then traveled on at a moderate gait. Shortly after, Sheriff Rice and three others in pursuit came very near them, so they could have reached them with their rifles, but were

AFRAID OF THEM,

and were blamed for not shooting. This party followed seven miles without attacking, and lost the trail after dark, three miles east of the Palisades, on Splitrock river, in Dakota. About half an hour after, Rice met a boy who said they had passed, and told him some fellows were following, giving him

A VULGAR INVITATION

to report to the pursuers. They evidently felt easy, as they were in familiar territory, and asked the boy where they could cross the river. He directed them to two crossings, and they started towards the lower, but had not crossed at six. They were in a country hard to hunt, full of knolls and ravines. The stage from Sioux Falls this afternoon brought in the two gray horses, which were found at the house of Mr. Nelson, on Splitrock river, below the Palisades. The robbers called there between six and eight o’clock Sunday evening. Kelson lit a pipe and sat on the fence talking. One robber asked if he was

GOING TO SIT THERE ALL NIGHT,

and inquired about the fords and roads. After Nelson went in, the outlaws changed their grays for his two horses, both black and blind, one in both eyes, and the other in one. Nelson saw their revolvers. They rode the blacks until two o’clock Monday morning, but made only ten miles, when they changed for a pair of grays, five miles north of Sioux Falls. The blind horses probably did not suit them. They went through Sioux Falls about five Monday morning, and overtook the Yankton stage. They asked the driver where he was going. The driver told them, and asked them the same question. The robbers did not answer, but turned back into Sioux Falls. This is

THE LAST SEEN

of the two supposed to be the James brothers, as far as known in this State. Their course has been almost directly west by compass. I think they would have taken the northern trail, but were driven south by Dill’s division in that direction. The fugitives were robbed of rest they intended to take, and were forced to make eighty miles without stopping, thus showing that they had good horses.

Various reports have been received recently in regard to the escaped bandits, but they are probably safely away and among their old familiar scenes.

A few determined spirits followed into Dakota, but the great body of the pursuers returned disappointed to their homes, and resumed their avocations, only to be again stirred and inspired in a few days by the remarkable events which will be found in the succeeding chapter.

THE CAPTURE.

“WHAT’S THE USE?”

was the bitter ejaculation of pretty well every man who had for two long weeks persistently kept on the trail of the gang of desperadoes who perpetrated the Northfield outrage, and by Wednesday evening, the 20th, the pursuers had for the most part returned to their homes with the full conviction that the chase was up, and the bandits had made good their escape. To some it was more than humiliating that after so many times being completely within their grasp, the scoundrels had succeeded in eluding them, and this too, so often through blundering and neglect. It seemed no consolation that the robbers had lost more in the State than they had ever done elsewhere. The two dead carcasses at Northfield, the captured horses, the wounded, fleeing men were impotent to assuage their disappointment and heal their wounded pride.

Many exciting reports came from all quarters, but they were only met with incredulous laughter. The bandits were gone, and that was an end to the matter. People began to look upon the whole hunt as a huge joke, and admiration soon showed itself for the plucky six who could in the face of such fearful odds make good their escape. But there were those who still thought that at least four of the robbers were still in the neighborhood—the man wounded at Northfield, and the three who had not crossed the river, for notwithstanding the fact that J. Devans, of South Bend, said that he saw _five_ men in South Bend, whom he was positive were the robbers, on the morning that the three crossed the bridge, no one gave credence to his tale.

This man asserted that he had occasion to get up about half-past two o’clock to get some water at the pump, his wife being sick, when he passed five men in the lane near South Bend Hotel. They wore long linen dusters with belts, and carried blankets done up in bridles, and he was positive they were the robbers. He saw them leave and go on to the railroad, two walking ahead, and the fifth man who was taller than the others, walking behind and seeming to stoop greatly and walk with difficulty, carrying one arm in a sling. Bob Younger’s statement to the writer seemed to confirm Devan’s story.

There were not a few people in Mankato who believed that Jack O’Neil had a hand in the escape of the raiders. It will be remembered that this man figured conspicuously as an informant in a case spoken of at an early period of this narrative. Rumor had it that this O’Niel had still in his vicious den the wounded man concealed. To satisfy the public mind, a strong body of men crossed over the ferry and thoroughly searched O’Niel’s premises in which were found, besides the unfortunate female denizens, five as low looking vagabonds as were ever seen outside of prison walls. Although the search was fruitless, there are many people in Mankato who still think, now that the hunt is over, that the notorious Jack cleared his house of Ingalls, Peabody and Quane, because he expected the Northfield raiders on their return trip to stay and make use of his house. Many arrests were made of innocent persons in the eagerness to catch the robbers, and it was absolutely dangerous to be a large man of unusual appearance, especially to be alone in the woods or on country roads. There was one instance of a capture on suspicion which placed two horse thieves within the grasp of inexorable justice, that of the capture of the two men at St. Peter, who stayed at the old Wardlow place one night and rode off suspiciously at an early hour of the morning. These men who gave their names as John Chafer and George Ranks, proved to be two horse thieves from Iowa.

But the hunt was at last given up in despair and people had gone back to their homes, when a lad came dashing into Madelia shouting out to every one he met, that the

ROBBERS WERE FOUND.

Exhausted and out of breath from his long and rapid ride, it was some few moments ere he could sufficiently recover himself to tell an intelligent story. To Col. Vought, the landlord of the Flanders Hotel, the boy gave his statement.

The following is condensed from the sworn statement of the captors, and was published in the “_Madelia Times:_”

Early on Thursday morning, September 21st, a Norwegian boy named Oscar O. Suborn, while out milking, saw two men pass his father’s house. This boy lives eight miles from this place in a direction a little west of north, in Linden township, Brown county. In a few moments, he set down his pail and went to the house of Mads Ouren, and told what he had seen. Besides Mr. Ouren, there were there, Anton Anderson, Ole Stone and J. F. Devine. The latter said at once he believed it was the robbers, and that the people should be notified. Those there proceeded at once to do so. A gang were commencing to thresh nearby, so their horses and all others in the vicinity were ran off as fast as possible. The boy returned home and was there told that during his absence, the two other men had come to the house and called for something to eat. Said they were a fishing party, were in a hurry and could not stop for breakfast. The boy then jumped upon his father’s horse and came full speed to this place with the news. When within a mile and a half of town, his horse fell down and threw him off into the mud, but he re-mounted and hastened on. Arriving here, the first he saw were Sheriff Glispin and T. L. Vought. The latter grasped his gun, mounted his horse and was off, closely followed by J. Severson. They were soon joined by Sheriff Glispin, after having left orders to others to come, and Will Estes. About three or four miles out they were met by a young man named Flittie, who

HAD SEEN THE ROBBERS

and guided them to where the villains were. When the party came in sight of the robbers, the latter were at the house of John Sharphold. Seeing their pursuers coming they seemed to try to fortify behind a heap of earth, but when the party scattered out in an attempt to surround them, they made off. They waded in a slough near by, and when passing over a rise of ground beyond, Glispin and Will Estes fired at them with their rifles, just grazing the shoulder and cutting the shirt of one, as they afterwards learned.

This caused the miscreants to hasten their pace, and while those pursuing were crossing the slough and going cautiously up the hill (fearing an ambuscade,) they had made quite an advance. As they were on foot, it was now evident from the direction they were taking that they knew the country, and were making for Doolittle’s herd. It was not long before they reached the Hanska slough which they waded, The party in pursuit, who were proceeding in a form of line, came to the slough and finding they could not cross, Glispin and Estes went down the slough and crossed at the house of A. Swingler, who showed them a cattle crossing. The Sheriff sent Severson to show those citizens coming, which way to proceed. Vought went up stream and crossed, and about this time was joined by Dr. Overholt, and coming down to the right of the robbers, fired occasionally to attract others. Dr. Overholt shot with his rifle and hit one of the robber’s canes. Glispin and Estes coming up on the left, fired several shots, and the robbers returned the fire, and being at close range, the bullets flew thick about the pursuers, grazing Glispin’s horse.

About half past 12 o’clock Will Estes ran out of ammunition and was obliged to come to town, informing those whom he met where to go, and as soon as he arrived here sent telegrams to St. James of movements.

In the pursuit, Glispin, Vought and Overholt saw Doolittle’s herd and bore to the right to prevent the robbers from capturing the horses, and crossed the river at J. Doolittle’s; some men were ordered to stay there as guard.

FINDING THEMSELVES FOILED

the bandits went to the river opposite Andrew Andersen’s house and called to him to bring over his horses, that they were after the robbers. He took the hint however and ran the horses off. The robbers then passed up the river to the next house and crossed at a ford; then passed through Anderson’s cornfield to a granary, then seeing teams that Mr. Horace Thompson, President of the First National Bank of St. Paul, had out hunting, they started east toward them, but Mr. Thompson and his son put coarse shot in their guns and faced them, seeing which the robbers turned north down the bluff and crept along in a band in the brush to the bank of the river.

Sheriff Glispin, and others, came down to Andersen’s house, and citizens arriving, the Sheriff posted pickets along the bluff on the south side of the river, to watch the robbers. Among these, August Fedder and Wm. Shannon were by the house, Ole Stone on the bluff, and G. W. Green on a point east of the picket line on the north side. At this time J. Dolittle came down and said the guards at his house had gone, and the Sheriff, T. L. Vought and Dr. Overholt returned there to see to it, and the latter was stationed there by the Sheriff.

Meanwhile citizens were arriving on the north side of the river, and some of them saw the robbers go into the brush. About 1 o’clock Capt. W. W. Murphy arrived and having definitely ascertained where the villains were, and also that the citizens were unorganized, all willing but no one deciding what to do, he appeared to take in the situation immediately and at once took command and found every one well pleased to obey. After giving directions concerning the horses, he led forward to the north bank of the river, the stream being about 20 feet wide, and the prairie reaching to the water edge. Here he posted the men at equal distances, each with instructions how to act. The names of the men so posted were Geo. P. Johnston, T. Toren, W. H. Borland, C. Pittis. D. Campbell, Geo. Carpenter, Joe Crandall, H. Juveland, H. H. Winter, Chas. Ash, E. H. Bill, E. A. Loper, J. E. Smith, D. Brayton, J. A. Gieriet, Jack Delling, W. H. H. Witham, Robt. Shannon, W. Bundy, Isaac Bundy, G. Christopherson, and in a few moments these were joined by F. D. Joy, G. W. Yates, H. P. Wadsworth, O. C. Cole and several others.

[DIAGRAM OF THE BATTLE FIELD AT MADELIA.]

DIAGRAM OF THE BATTLE FIELD AT MADELIA.

After giving instructions on the north side of the river, Capt. Murphy mounted his horse, and crossed the river on a bridge to the east of where the robbers were. Soon after, he reached the place where

THE BANDITS DESCENDED THE BLUFF

into the brush, when they saw H. Thompson, and gave some necessary instructions there—the Sheriff being absent with T. L Vought at J. Doolittle’s. Capt. Murphy after having a hurried consulation with. Ben Rice, put his horse in charge of Alba Crandall, who led several other horses, whom he posted on a slight knoll. Then he stepped to the edge of the bluff and called for volunteers to skirmish the brush, which is in a circular form and contains about 5 acres and is situated in the northeast quarter section 20, township 107, range 31. This brush is willows and plumtrees, interspersed with vines. Ben Rice and Geo. Bradford immediately volunteered, followed by Chas. Pomeroy and James Severson. At this moment T. L. Vought arrived, who immediately dismounted and joined. Sheriff Glispin then came up and joined the party just as they were starting off. The Capt. gave the men orders to keep in line at an interval of 3 or 4 paces and in case the enemies were found, to rush upon them; to examine their guns carefully, and to shoot low. The line advanced as fast as possible into the brush and passed through to the river, then made a wheel to the left and passed up the river westward, with the right of the line near enough to see the water. After advancing in this direction about ten rods, a shot was fired from a very thick clump of willows, at a distance of fifteen feet from the right of the line. As the shot was fired, the robbers were seen obsecurely in a kneeling position, close together. Glispin returned the fire on the instant with a breech-loading carbine, and dropped to load. As four of the robbers commenced firing as fast as possible, they being armed with Colt’s, and Smith and Wesson’s six shooters, army size. Capt. Murphy opened fire at this close range with a Colt revolver; Rice discharged his carbine, then fired his pistol; Vought and Pomeroy fired with double-barreled shot guns, and Bradford and Severson with carbine and rifle. Just at this time Captain Murphy received a 44 calibre pistol shot, the ball striking a

BRIAR ROOT PIPE

in his vest pocket, smashing it to pieces, tearing the pocket to shreds, and the ball lodged in the lining of his vest. The blow raised a painful contusion on his side. Bradford also received a slight wound on the wrist, drawing blood. The bandits then retreated a little, firing as they did so, and being discovered by the men posted across the river on the north side, several shots were fired from there. Most of the charges in the skirmish line being exhausted, a slight cessation of firing took place, when the robbers cried out to cease firing, as they were all shot to pieces, the only one able to stand being Bob Younger, he held up his hand in token of surrender. He was immediately ordered to advance, several guns of the skirmishers being held on him till he was relieved of his belt and arms by Capt. Murphy, and assured of protection from further injury. Bob had received one wound in the breast; Cole and Jim Younger were completely riddled—Cole having received eleven and Jim five wounds—they were laying near together. Charley Pitts lay further to the right of the line, dead, having received five wounds, three of which would have caused death.

The robbers had two revolvers a piece, and some of them were ivory handled, nickle-plated, the finest ever seen in this part of the country, and their belts full of bullets.

After their surrender they were taken in charge by Sheriff Glispin, who had them taken to this place in a wagon, followed by the enthusiastic crowds, composed of those engaged in the capture, and those met on the way down, the place where they were taken being about seven miles from here. We are told that it

LOOKED LIKE AN ARMY

coming as they neared town, and when cheers were raised over the victory, the bandits swung their hats, too.

When they arrived here, they were taken to the Flanders House, and their wounds dressed by Drs. Cooley and Overholt.

They were kept under guard at the hotel. During their stay here they were seen by over three thousand persons, and their wounded appearance and pretenses of contrition drew forth a manifest sympathy from some, but this humane conduct of such has been very much exaggerated.

On Saturday morning, Sheriff Glispin, with B. Rice and Captain Murphy as special deputies, started with the wounded bandits for Faribault, arrived in due time and delivered the prisoners to the Sheriff of Rice Co., that being the county in which their crime was committed. The dead robber was taken to St. Paul, by Geo. P. Johnston and G. W, Yates, and delivered to the State authorities for identification. Thus was the career of this band of notorious outlaws brought to an end for the present, with only two of the eight who came into the State escaped, and they wounded. They have raided in thirteen States, but Minnesota proved too much for them, and it is hoped this severe lesson will deter all others of the same stamp from attempting to rob, especially in this State.

A VISIT TO MADELIA.

The first news which reached St. Paul, was “Robbers surrounded in a swamp at Madelia, send long range rifles.”

This telegram, however, did not excite so much interest as similar messages had done before, for the people had got weaned of sensational telegrams, but still there were about a score of men willing to go out once more; among these was Chief King and a company of the St. Paul Police, including Brissette. When the train reached Shakopee, however, the news was received of the capture, when King sent back part of his men, the others going to gratify curiosity in seeing the prisoners. The news was expected at nearly every stopping place with the further information that Monty’s train would return from St. James and bring the men on to St. Paul.

AT MANKATO,

the excitement was immense. A vast concourse of people—including hundreds of women—had congregated at the depot and cheered the St. Paul train as it drew up. The cars had hardly come to a standstill when a whistle was heard and the discordant clang of a bell which foretold the approach of another train from the west.

A general rush of the assembled throng was at once made to meet the incoming train—Monty’s—which was thought to contain the captured bandits. Cheer after cheer rent the air and broke upon the evening’s stillness as the train slowly moved up toward the station, but when it was announced that the prisoners were not on board,

DISAPPOINTMENT

took the place of exultation, and many retired with their bitter conviction that the whole thing was a hoax. Twenty minutes for supper, but more than three-fourths of that time had been spent by the writer in interviewing the Mankato party, which had returned from the sanguinary field.

From these he elicited the fact that four of the men were actually in the hands of the Madelia people, and would be sent down in the morning.

ARRIVED AT MADELIA,

the writer hastened to the Flanders House, where he was informed the three prisoners, all wounded, were in bed. Finding the courteous and obliging landlord, he was soon allowed to pass the guard at the foot of the stairs, and ascending, he entered a small chamber, where two men lay in one bed. The first glance told the fact that one of the men was

COLE YOUNGER,

a large, powerful man, with bald head and sandy whiskers and moustache, answering the description, given so many times of this man. He is pretty badly wounded, and at the time was somewhat delirious, so that nothing could be gleaned by questioning him.

His body was full of wounds, mostly caused by buckshot. His worst injuries were about the head, several shot having penetrated the skull and embedded themselves at the base of the brain. It was evident that some of these leaden missiles had lodged among the nerves of the right eye, as that organ was closed and inflamed, and appeared to be forced forward. On entering his head, these shot had broken down the palate arch, and the pain experienced by the prisoner must have been intense. Lying by his side was

JIM YOUNGER,

who is a little shorter, and not nearly of such powerful build. He had quite a number of wounds, the most serious of which was through his mouth, the balls having displaced all of the teeth on one side, and broken the roof of his mouth. His lips and cheeks were terribly swollen, and he could articulate with the greatest difficulty, although he appeared to desire to talk to his visitors.

In another room, about ten yards from the first, lay

BOB YOUNGER,

by far the finest looking man of the whole gang, and apparently the youngest. He is six feet two inches in height, well proportioned, with brawny arms and thick neck. His features are well-defined, well cut lips and expressive mouth; the chin is prominent and rounded; he has a small sandy moustache, and a beard of about two weeks’ growth. But the most remarkable feature, after the chin and mouth, is the heavy

PROJECTING CAPACIOUS BROW,

such as phrenologists would give to men of wonderful mathematical ability. This man has two wounds, one an old one, or rather of some days’ standing, and supposed to be the result of Wheeler’s carbine practice at Northfield, which caused the disarticulation of the right elbow joint. His other wound is from a ball entering the right side, just below the point of the scapula, tracing the sixth rib and coming out near the nipple. This is a mere flesh wound, and not at all dangerous.

At first he seemed rather reluctant to talk much, and when asked his name, he said it was George Huddleston, to which the writer replied, “Oh, I know who you are,” when he said, with a cheering smile, “Yes, most people know me in St. Paul. I stayed at the Merchants, and was there when the Red Caps went to Winona to play the Clippers. I afterwards went over to Minneapolis and stopped at the Nicollet, but on my return to St. Paul, I registered at the European.”

“But are you not a brother to the two men in the other room?” was asked.

“Yes, we are brothers; we are all brothers, sir,” was the reply.

“And they say you are the Youngers. Of course, I know Cole, but I would like to know if you are Jim or Bob?”

“I will tell you in the morning,” he said. “I would rather not say anything now. The others will tell you anything you wish to know.”

But by chatting familiarly with him, many facts of interest were elicited. He spoke of the Northfield escapade, and said it was the first of the kind he ever was in. When asked about his wound in the right arm, if it was not from the carbine of Wheeler, he stated that he thought it was from the pistol of Bates—he did not see Wheeler. His arm dropped on his leg as described, he said, which led to the belief that he was wounded in the leg.

In speaking of the dead men at Northfield, the writer said that there was some uncertainty whether the big man was Miller or Pitts. The prisoner promptly said, with a smile, “It was not Miller.”

He expressed himself freely as to his poor

OPINION OF THE DETECTIVES,

and gave an account of his party’s wanderings from Mankato. He said all six crossed the railroad bridge together. They came right through the town on the railroad track. They knew, he said, the other bridge was guarded, for he saw the guards; and then, hastily correcting himself, he said:

“We knew the bridge was watched, and then hastily crossed over on the trestle bridge. We got some melons out of a garden, and on the right of the railroad, a little further down, we got two old hens and one chicken, the only fowls on the place, and then went on to the place where we were disturbed when getting our breakfast ready. We had it all ready to cook when”

WE HEARD THE MEN

“running and shouting up the line and as quickly as we could we got out and crossed the State road (Garden City road.) If we had not left our bridles, the police would not have known we had been there. I had but one arm and I seized my blankets. If I had had two, I should have tried to carry away some of the chicken, for we were dreadfully hungry. After crossing the road we went southeast to the river, ran half a mile up the stream and there laid down all day.”

Asked if he did not hear shots fired, he said he did, and saw one of the pursuers within twenty yards of him,

“At night,” he continued, “we made across the railroad track again, crossing two or three miles up towards Lake Crystal, and then took a northerly course to the road running due west from Mankato. We then entered the Minnesota timber, where we stayed two nights. Then we made the first of the Linden chain of lakes, I think, and remained in that neighborhood three nights, where we got some chickens. Up to this time we had been”

LIVING ON CORN.

“We were very imprudent, this morning, in going to the house for food, but we were so hungry.”

He said the name of the bald-headed man was King, and the one lying dead was Ward. He would tell more, he said, in the morning.

The man has a wonderfully easy manner of speaking. His voice is soft but strong, and marvelously sympathetic and emotional.

THE DEAD MAN

was next interviewed. He was 5 feet 9¾ inches in height, rather slight, with regular features, black straight hair, stubby moustache, black beard of short growth. His hair is not dyed, and is, therefore not a James, for they are light complexioned. Hands rather coarse and covered with black hair. He was shot, with a heavy ball, between the second and third ribs, and one inch to the left of the breast bone. He had also had a buckshot wound in the right arm, five inches from the point of the shoulder and another five inches from the right hip, striking behind.

This man has been identified as Charley Pitts, and recognized by Mr. Bunker as the man who shot him through the arm.

The writer next found the boy who brought in the news to Madelia of the robbers being in the neighborhood.

OSCAR OLESON SUBORN,

is a lad of about seventeen, who said he lives about eight and one-half miles from Madelia, at Linden, Riverdale township. He said that at about seven o’clock in the morning, his father was milking, when two men came past, walking, and said “good morning” and went on. He was coming to the house with milk pails at the time and walked up to the gate, but could not see the faces of the men. But he could see one had a black moustache and the other red whiskers. They went past but he said, “I knew right away”

THEY WERE THE ROBBERS,

and ran out to my father and said, “there goes the robbers.” But his father said they were not, and told him to go and attend to his milking. He milked one cow and put the pail inside the gate and ran up the rode which they had gone up. His father halloed after him to come back and to take care of the cows, for if they were the robbers, they would shoot him. He ran on to Mars Ouren’s, and asked if he saw the two men pass by. He said he did not see any, when the boy asked the man to go with him to see where the men had gone, but he responded by saying he had no time. He then started off alone, and told Christensen’s folks about it, and went on the roof of the house to look around, but could see nobody. He then hurried up to a big hill, and still could not see anybody. When he returned, his father told him that four men had been to get something to eat,

SAYING THEY WERE HUNTERS

and fishers, and asked where they could catch the best fish. The boy ran over to Ouren’s again and told them—his father objecting to his going, saying the men would shoot him. His father hitched up the horse in the wagon, but, seeing the boy so anxious to go, said he might take one of the horses and go and tell the people what he had seen, if he went the east road. He at once started for Madelia, riding at the utmost strength of the horse, which once fell and covered him with mud.

“I PICKED UP MYSELF FIRST,”

“and then the horse,” he said, “and was soon off again,” shouting to everybody to look out, the robbers were about. But no one would believe a word he said. At last he came to the hotel and saw Thomas Vought, who said they might believe him, because he always spoke the truth. He then gave up his horse and returned in a wagon. The people left him to take care of the horses, and they went down to the north branch of the river, by Andrew Andersen’s. He heard the shooting, but saw nothing till the men were caught.

DURING THE WHOLE NIGHT

the utmost order prevailed, and no word was spoken of lynching, everybody stating that if such a thing was attempted, they would protect the prisoners with their lives. An inquest was held on the dead man and a verdict found in substance that the man met with his death from the hand of one of the citizens of Madelia while resisting arrest.

THE ROBBERS’ LEVEE.

The next morning the Flanders House was literally crammed with eager people, anxious to see the captive bandits, and the street in front was thronged with an equally anxious crowd.

Cole Younger frankly acknowledged their identity, saying that he was Cole, born the 15th of January, 1844. The man lying by his side, he said, was his brother James, and the other, slightly wounded, Robert, their respective ages being 28 and 22 years.

THEY HELD A LEVEE

in their chambers, hundreds of people passing up to see them, old men and youths, aged ladies and young maidens, and a more singular sight is seldom witnessed. Many believe in their contrition. Both brothers spoke in feeling tones of their dead mother and living sister, and this touched the women wonderfully.

Neither would say who the dead man was, excusing themselves by stating it is a point with them never to speak of each other’s affairs, only of their own.

The writer mentioned to them that the other two,

THE JAMES BROTHERS

were captured, one dead and the other dying. This seemed to affect them. Cole asked who was dead, the smaller or larger of the two, adding the caution, “mind I don’t say they are the James brothers.” When the writer said that they had acknowledged who they were, Cole then asked, “Did they say anything of us.” When answered in the negative, he replied,

“GOOD BOYS TO THE LAST.”

A photograph of the two men killed at Northfield was shown them, and they were told that the shorter was recognized by Kansas City people as Chadwell, and the taller as Miller; also stating that Hazen said the taller was Pitts.

Cole said “they were good likenesses, and cannot but be recognized, but both detectives were wrong.” He then added, “Don’t misunderstand me; I did not say neither of them was Miller, but there is no Pitts there”.

No excitement was feared at Madelia. In fact, there was too much sympathy shown, and every kindness was bestowed upon the captive bandits. Caution was, however, taken to prevent their escape,

ARMED SENTINELS

being placed at the foot of the stairs and about the house.

Friday, in this brave, plucky, generous little town of Madelia, was a day which will long be remembered, not only by the staunch hearts and true of the town, but also by hundreds upon hundreds of visitors, who then for the first time trod its streets, attracted there by the widespread news which suddenly raised the obscure name to a high position upon the roll of fame.

The self-sacrificing heroism of six men made the fame of Colais in the olden time, and the plucky

COURAGE OF SEVEN MEN

has wrung from grudging fortune the renown of Madelia to-day; for throughout the length and breadth of the land, and wherever the pulsations of the electric message-bearer—the nervous system of civilization—was felt, the bosom of generous sentiment swelled with approbation, gratitude, and pride, when the tale of the cool dash and unselfish bravery of those seven Madelians was told. The united voices and hearts of the whole nation swell with gratitude and laudations for Madelia’s sturdy heroism.

All day Friday and all the night previous, there was a constant and ever-changing stream of visitors passing through the rooms occupied by Madelia’s fated captives. One could but speculate with wonder upon the source of such an inexhuastible human stream.

Not an inconsiderable moiety of the great total of visitors was of the gentler sex, and to one watching with interest the great bandits’ matinee and evening receptions, the changing expressions upon the eager, expectant and occasionally indignant countenances of visitors, was of singular interest. A strong, energetic man would enter with knitted brow, and stern, unrelenting features, who would be followed by a timid, half-fearful, half-loathing woman’s face. Then there were angry faces, curious faces, bold, proud faces—faces exhibiting every phase of human passion and human temperament—but they had scarcely passed the threshhold of either prison chamber wherein lay the objects of all-absorbing curiosity, when lo! presto! a metamorphose as sudden as it was complete, and as radical as it was rapid, had taken place. Doubt, wonder, and astonishment would grow into

SYMPATHY,

and often admiration. It is safe to say that out of every hundred visitors who looked only for a few seconds upon those daring and notorious men, ninety-nine came away with very different, almost opposite opinions concerning the lawless Younger brothers.

Was it really true that anger, malice, revenge, cruelty, hard, unyielding, implacable hatred ever marred such countenances!—that cold, murderous, steel-like scintillations ever beamed from those eyes? Was it possible that blasphemous execrations and hellish denunciations ever polluted such voices and blistered those pleasant tongues? Was it really true that those three intelligent men—courteous and affable—had plotted and executed some of the most cold-blooded, atrocious diabolisms ever known in modern times? Questions, perhaps, like these, were asked of themselves by hundreds of visitors yesterday, and left unanswered satisfactorily.

COLE YOUNGER

was more demonstrative than either of the rest. He always respected religion, he told one lady. His mother, he said, was a good, praying, Christian woman, and two of his uncles were Methodist ministers.

To another who urged him to pray for himself, for although “the prayers of the righteous availeth much,” salvation must necessarily depend upon himself, he said: “I conceive prayer to exist in every action, every thought, and considering the eventful life I have led, I cannot say I have been a praying man. A splendid theme for earnest sermons,” he continued, “is that divine mandate, ‘Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth.’ ”

To another lady he said: “It is not my raising, but from the”

FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES,

“I am what I am. Accused of all manner of crimes before I had committed one, I am like the Wandering Jew.”

In expressing his gratitude for the kindness manifested by the ladies and the people generally, he said: “It takes a brave man to fight a battle, but a braver man to treat well a fallen foe.”

Every lady that entered his room he greeted courteously, and as she was leaving, he would ask her to pray for him and his brother—when James would chime in, “Not for us, never mind us, but pray for our dear sister.”

To a group of ladies who shrinkingly looked upon the two wounded men, Cole said: “Ladies, this is a terrible sight.” When one asked him in trembling, gentle tones, “Do your wounds pain you?” his reply was, “Wounds do not trouble me, madam; I would as leave die as be a prisoner.”

WHEN ASKED ABOUT HEYWOOD,

he said that ninety-nine out of a hundred would have opened the safe. “At least,” he added, “I know I would.”

Asked why Heywood was shot, he said, “he supposed the man who shot him, whoever he might be, thought Heywood was going to shoot him. The fact that the man was on the counter and turned round, as the papers say, and shot him, is sufficient proof of this. Heywood went to his desk and the man thought chat he was about to take a pistol out of the desk.” “That was an unfortunate affair,” he continued, “and the man who did it, no doubt regretted it immediately.”

BOB YOUNGER,

the youngest brother, is not disposed to talk cant, but answers questions frankly and promptly when directed to his own affairs, but he will not answer a word about any other member of the gang. When asked if he did not think Heywood a brave fellow, he remarked that he thought he acted from fear throughout. He was too much frightened to open the safe, or he could not do it. He (Bob) was was of the opinion that Heywood could not open the safe, and he did not wish to go any further with that job. When asked

WHY HEYWOOD WAS SHOT,

he said it was not on account of revenge, but simply in self-defense, “for what object could there be in such a cold-blooded crime, when the party must be the sufferers. It was a very unfortunate affair for us,” he said.

Bob did not hesitate to answer any question proposed to him which concerned himself. He volunteered the statement that he was one of the three who entered the bank, and it was he who tried to keep Manning from firing up the street. Being asked if he was not considered a good shot, he said he had always considered himseif a good marksman, but he thought that he would now have to forego all claim to being a crack-shot, after considering the unusually bad shooting he made in the bush when captured.

To the boy who put the Mankato men upon the track, Cole extended his hand, and said:

“READ YOUR BIBLE,”

“my lad, and follow its precepts. Do not let them lead you astray. For your part in our capture I freely forgive you.”

Every opportunity he could get when ladies were present, he would ask them to pray for him, and he would incessantly talk on religious subjects and his previous history, laying the blame of his position to the “force of circumstances,” tracing the beginning of his trouble to the “murder of his father by a band of militia thieves.”

He said that many of the great crimes for which he and his companions were blamed, he had nothing at all to do with.

There were not a few of the visitors who were of the opinion that Cole Younger was

FOXING IT,

and that he was trying to play off the “pious dodge,” awakening commisseration and sympathy from the tender-hearted and religious. The asperity and bitter irony shown when a lady less sympathizing and more matter of-fact than most of his visitors spoke severely of his disgraceful position and degraded life led many to think that Cole is a consumate actor and an arch hypocrite.

When asked why they went to the Northfield bank, and whether it was not more risky than even Mankato banks, he said he told the others at the first that it was

A DANGEROUS UNDERTAKING,