Part 6 (1/2)

In March of this year the safe of the county treasurer at Magnolia, Harrison County, Iowa, was robbed of about fourteen thousand dollars; and Allan Pinkerton detailed his son, William A. Pinkerton, and two a.s.sistants, to run down the burglars. Arrived at the scene of the robbery, the detectives found that the thieves had made their escape on a hand-car and had gone in the direction of Council Bluffs. At this time in Council Bluffs there was a low saloon, kept by a man who had formerly lived in Seymour and who was known as a bad character. It was decided to keep a sharp watch on this resort, Mr. Pinkerton reasoning that since Seymour was the friendly refuge of the Renos, it was altogether likely that the outlaws would have a friend, and perhaps an abettor, in the saloon-keeper who had once lived there. After two days' watching, the detectives observed a large man of dark complexion enter the saloon and engage in close conversation with the proprietor, having with him, evidently, some mysterious business.

Investigation disclosed this man to be Michael Rogers, a prominent and wealthy citizen of Council Bluffs, and the owner of an extensive property in the adjoining counties. Puzzled, but still persuaded that he had found a clue, Mr. Pinkerton put a ”shadow” on Rogers, and hurried back to Magnolia, where he learned that on the day preceding the robbery Rogers had been seen in Magnolia, where he had paid his taxes, and in doing so had loitered for some time in the treasurer's office. This also looked suspicious. But, on the other hand, search as he might, the detective could find nothing against Rogers's character, every one testifying to his entire respectability.

Still unconvinced, Mr. Pinkerton returned to Council Bluffs, where he was informed by the man who had been ”shadowing” Rogers that several strange men had been seen to enter Rogers's house and had not been seen to come out again. The watch was continued more closely than ever, and after four days of patient waiting, Rogers, accompanied by three strangers, was seen to leave the house cautiously and take a west-bound train on the Pacific Railroad. One of these men, a brawny, athletic fellow nearly six feet tall, and about twenty-eight years of age, Mr. Pinkerton shrewdly suspected was Frank Reno, although he could not be certain, never having seen Frank Reno. Feeling sure that if his suspicions were correct the men would ultimately return to Rogers's house, Mr. Pinkerton did not follow them on the train, but contented himself with keeping the strictest watch for their return.

The very next morning the same four men were discovered coming back to the house from the direction of the railroad. But at that hour no train was due, which was a little curious; and another curious point was that they were all covered with mud and bore marks of having been engaged in some severe, rough labor. The hour was early; the dwellers in Council Bluffs were not yet astir. A little later the city was thrown into a fever of excitement by the news that the safe of the county treasurer at Glenwood, in Mills County, about thirty miles distant, had been robbed the previous night. No trace had yet been got of the thieves, but everything indicated that they were the same men who had robbed the safe at Magnolia. One remarkable point of similarity in the two cases was the means employed by the robbers in escaping, a hand-car having been used also by the Glenwood thieves; and they, too, were believed to have fled in the direction of Council Bluffs. Investigation soon made this absolutely certain, for the missing hand-car was found lying beside the railroad, a short distance from the Council Bluffs station.

Putting these new disclosures beside his previous suspicions and discoveries, Mr. Pinkerton was further strengthened in his distrust of the man Rogers; and although the local authorities, to whom he revealed his suspicions, laughed at him, declaring that Rogers was one of the most respectable citizens of the State, he resolved to attempt an arrest. Proceeding to Rogers's house with all the force he could command, he placed a guard at front and rear, and then, with a few attendants, made his way inside. The first person he met was Mr.

Rogers himself, who affected to be very indignant at the intrusion.

”Who have you in this house?” asked Mr. Pinkerton.

”n.o.body but my family,” answered Mr. Rogers.

”We'll see about that,” answered Mr. Pinkerton; and then, turning to his men, he ordered them to search the premises.

They did so, and soon came upon the three strangers, who were taken so completely by surprise that they made no effort at resistance. They were about to sit down to breakfast, which was spread for them in the kitchen. A comparison with photographs and descriptions left no doubt that one of the three was Frank Reno. A second--a man of dark complexion, tall, and well built--proved to be Albert Perkins, a well-known member of the Reno gang. The third was none other than the notorious Miles Ogle, the youngest member of the band, who afterward came to be known as the most expert counterfeiter in the United States. Ogle at this writing is in the Ohio penitentiary, serving his third term of imprisonment. At his last capture there were found in his possession some of the best counterfeit plates ever made.

While they were securing the four men the detectives noticed that smoke was curling out of the kitchen stove, accompanied by a sudden blaze. Mr. Pinkerton pulled off a lid, and found on the coals several packages of bank-notes, already on fire. Fortunately the notes had been so tightly wrapped together that only a few of them were destroyed before the packages were got out. Those that remained were afterward identified as of the money that had been stolen from the Glenwood safe. There was thus no question that these were the robbers so long sought for. A further search of the house brought to light two sets of burglars' tools, which served as c.u.mulative evidence.

The men were carried to Glenwood by the next train. They were met by a great and excited crowd, and for a time were in danger of lynching.

Better counsel prevailed, however, and they were placed in the jail to await trial.

With the men in secure, safe custody, there was no doubt of their ultimate conviction; and every one was breathing easier at the thought that at last the Reno gang was robbed of its terrors. Then suddenly--no one will ever know how it happened--the prisoners made their escape. Great was the surprise and chagrin of the sheriff of Mills County when, on the morning of April 1, 1868, he entered the jail, only to find their cells empty. A big hole sawed through the wall told by what way they had made their exit. They left behind the mocking salutation, ”April Fool,” scrawled in chalk over the floors and walls of the jail.

A large reward was offered for the capture of the robbers, but nothing was heard of them until two months later, when an express-car on the Ohio and Mississippi Railroad was boarded at Marshfield, Indiana, by a gang of masked men, and robbed of ninety-eight thousand dollars. The messenger made a brave resistance, but could not cope with the robbers, who lifted him bodily and hurled him out of the car, down a steep embankment, while the train was running at high speed.

All the facts in the case pointed to the Reno brothers as the authors of this outrage, for by frequent repet.i.tion their methods of robbery had become familiar. Allan Pinkerton, furthermore, obtained precise evidence that it was the work of the Renos from secret agents whom he had stationed at Seymour to watch the doings of the gang. Two of these agents engaged apparently in business at Seymour, one setting up as a saloon-keeper in a rough part of the town, another taking railroad employment, which kept him constantly near the station. A third made a wide acquaintance by pa.s.sing for a gambler and general good fellow. So successful were they that Allan Pinkerton was soon in possession of facts proving not only that the Marshfield robbery had been committed by the Renos, but that another train robbery which followed was executed by John Moore, Charles Gerroll, William Sparks, and three others, all members of the Reno organization. Moore, Gerroll, and Sparks were arrested shortly after, and placed on a train to be taken from Seymour to Brownstown, the county-seat. But they never reached their destination. As the train stopped at a small station some miles from Brownstown, a band of masked men, well armed, rushed on board, overpowered the officers, hurried the three outlaws away to a neighboring farm-yard, and there strung them up to a beech-tree, while an old German who owned the farm looked on approvingly.

This was the first act of retributive justice done by the Secret Vigilance Committee of Southern Indiana, an organization as extraordinary as the situation it was created to deal with. The entire population of that part of Indiana seemed to have risen in self-defense to crush out lawlessness. A second act followed several days later, when three other men who had been concerned in the latest train robbery, having been captured by the county officials, were taken from their hands and condemned to the same fate as their companions. Each one, as he was about to be swung off, was asked by the maskers if he had anything to say. The first two shook their heads sullenly, and died without speaking. The third, standing on a barrel with the rope round his neck, looked over the crowd with contemptuous bravado, and addressing them as a lot of ”mossback Hoosiers,” said he was glad he was not of their cla.s.s, and was proud to die as a good Republican. The barrel was kicked away, the rope stiffened with his weight, and there ended the career of the sixth member of the band.

Hard times followed for the surviving Renos. Realizing that their power was broken, they fled in various directions. The three brothers, Frank, William, and ”Sim,” though still at large, were not left long to enjoy their liberty. A large price was placed on their heads, and betrayal came quickly. William and ”Sim” were arrested soon after, in Indianapolis, and turned over to the local authorities, who, in order to avoid the Vigilance Committee, took the prisoners to New Albany, in an adjoining county, where they were placed in jail.

The Vigilance Committee, growing stronger and more determined every day, now scoured the whole country for other members of the gang or for persons believed to be in sympathy with it. They literally went on the ”war-path” through this whole region of Indiana, and it went ill with any poor wretch who incurred their suspicion. Like the ”Whitecaps” of a later day, they sent warnings to all who came on their black-list, and administered by night, and sometimes by day, such promiscuous floggings and other forms of punishment that the tough and criminal element of the region was entirely cowed, and feared to raise a hand in defense of the Renos, as it had previously done. Up to the time the Vigilance Committee was formed not a member of the Reno gang had been convicted in that locality, largely because the people were afraid to testify against them. They knew that if they should testify, their stock would be killed, their barns burned, and they themselves waylaid and beaten. This was the reason offered for the formation of the Vigilance Committee of Southern Indiana. Whether a justification or not, the committee must certainly be credited with having rid the State of a monstrous evil.

In the excitement of other events the Pinkertons had not forgotten the men who had escaped from the Glenwood jail. They finally traced Miles Ogle and Albert Perkins to Indianapolis; and there Ogle was captured, but Perkins escaped. Frank Reno was discovered a little later at Windsor, Canada, where he was living with Charles Anderson, a professional burglar, safe-blower, and ”short-card” gambler, who had fled to Canada to escape prosecution. Reno, operating with Anderson, made a practice of registering as ”Frank Going” if the enterprise in which he was engaged was prospering, and as ”Frank Coming” if it was not prospering. He and Anderson were now arrested on a charge of robbery and of a.s.sault with intent to kill, in the case of the express messenger hurled from his car at Marshfield, Indiana. Under this form their offense became extraditable; and after a long trial before the stipendiary or government magistrate, Gilbert McMicken, at Windsor, the men were ordered for extradition. Aided by the ablest lawyers, they carried their case, however, to the highest court in Canada. But the decision of the lower court was affirmed; and in October, 1868, the men were surrendered into the hands of Allan Pinkerton, who was delegated by the United States government to receive them. It was due to the patience and persistence of Mr. Alfred Gaither, the Western manager of the Adams Express Company, and his then a.s.sistant, Mr.

L.C. Weir, now president of the company, and to the general policy of the company to permit no compromise with thieves, that, regardless of cost and time, the prosecution was continued until it issued thus successfully.

Michael Rogers was also discovered to be in Windsor at this time, and he was known to have had a hand in the Marshfield robbery; but he escaped arrest, and remained securely in Windsor for a year or two.

Later, though, he reached the penitentiary, being brought to grief by a burglary done at Tolono, Illinois. On coming out, he joined the notorious McCartney gang of counterfeiters, and had many narrow escapes. The last known of him, grown an old man, he was living quietly on a farm in Texas.

Made at last secure of Reno and Anderson, Allan Pinkerton chartered a tug to carry them to Cleveland, and thus avoid the friends who, as he had reason to know, were waiting across the river in Detroit to effect a rescue. When the tug had gone about twenty miles, it was run down by a large steamer and sunk, the pa.s.sengers, including the prisoners, being saved from drowning with the greatest difficulty. The prisoners were carried on to Cleveland by another boat, and from there were hurried on by rail to New Albany, where they were placed in jail along with ”Sim” and William Reno.

The final pa.s.sage in the history of the Reno gang occurred about a month later, in the latter part of November, 1868, when one day a pa.s.senger-car was dropped off at Seymour, Indiana, some distance from the station. There was nothing remarkable in this, nor did the car attract any attention. That night a train pa.s.sing through Seymour took up the car and drew it away. A few people about the station when the car was taken up remembered afterward that this car was filled with strange-looking men, who wore Scotch caps and black cloth masks, and seemed to be under the command of a tall, dark-haired man addressed by every one as ”No. 1.” Although there were at least fifty of these men, it is a remarkable fact, developed in a subsequent investigation, that the conductor of the train could remember nothing about the incident, declaring that he did not enter the car and knew nothing of its being attached to his train. It is certain the company of masked men did everything in their power to avoid attention, scarcely speaking to one another during the ride and making all their movements as noiseless as possible.

The train reached New Albany at two o'clock in the morning. The car was detached, and was presently emptied of its fifty men as silently and mysteriously as it had been filled. A few hurried commands were given by ”No. 1,” and then the company marched in quiet order to the jail. Arrived there, they summoned the jailer to open the doors, but were met with a firm refusal and the s.h.i.+ning barrel of a revolver.

There followed an exchange of shots, in which the sheriff received a ball in the arm, and two local police officers were captured. Without loss of time the jail doors were battered down; the company entered, and taking the three Reno brothers and their friend, Charles Anderson, from their cells, placed nooses that they had ready around the men's necks, and hung them to the rafters in the corridors of the jail.

Then, having locked the doors of the jail, leaving the prisoners secure, they made their way silently back to the New Albany station, reaching there in time to catch the train that drew out at 3:30 A. M.