[Reproduction of record from files of Minnesota State Prison, showing
record of former inmate.]
Reproduction of record from files of Minnesota State Prison, showing
record of former inmate.
“Bob came out in a hurry and started down the street toward Manning, who
ran into a store, hoping he would get a shot at Bob from under cover. Bob
ran on, but didn’t notice Dr. Wheeler, who was upstairs in the hotel,
behind him, and Wheeler’s third shot smashed Bob’s right arm. Bob switched
his gun to his left and got on Miller’s horse, thinking that Miller was
dead. By this time Howard and Pitts had got out of the bank, and I told
them that Miller was still alive and we’d have to save him. I told Pitts
to put Miller on my horse, but when we lifted him I saw he was dead, so I
told Pitts that I would hold off the crowd while he got away, as his horse
had been killed. While Pitts ran, less than ten yards, I stood stood with
my pistol pointed at anyone who showed his head, and then I galloped off
and overtook him and took him up behind me.”
“Pitts then confessed to me about the drinking, and said they had made an
awful mess of it inside the bank. It had been arranged that they should
hold up Joseph L. Heywood, the acting cashier, at his window, and after
roping him get to the safe without any trouble. Instead of that, these
three drink‐crazed lunatics leaped over the rail and scared Heywood so
badly that he immediately got on the defensive, and in a minute the alarm
was out and it was all over.”
“It seems that one of the robbers had waved his revolver at Heywood the
minute he entered the bank and asked him if he was the cashier. Heywood
had said he wasn’t, and then the same question was put to the other two
men who were in the bank. Each of the three said he was not the cashier,
but the robber turned to Heywood, who was sitting at the cashier’s desk,
and said:”
“ ‘You’re the cashier; open that safe d—n quick or I’ll blow your head
off.’ ”
“Heywood jumped back and Pitts ran to the vault and got inside. Heywood
then tried to shut him in, and was seized by the robbers, who told him to
open the safe at once or he would not live another minute. Heywood told
him there was a time lock on it that positively couldn’t be opened,
whereupon Howard pulled a knife and tried to cut Heywood’s throat, the
cashier having been thrown to the ground in the scuffle that had taken
place. Incidentally, Pitts told me afterwards that Howard fired a pistol
near Heywood’s head, but only with the intention of frightening him.”
“A. E. Bunker, the teller, by this time had tried to get hold of a pistol
that was near where he was, but Pitts got the gun first, and it was found
on him after he was killed, and consequently furnished just that much good
evidence that we were the men at Northfield.”
“The boys saw by this time that the safe could not be reached, so they
asked Bunker about the money that was outside. Bunker pointed to a little
tray full of small coins, and while Bob was putting them away in a sack
Bunker made a dash through a rear window. Pitts fired at him twice, the
bullet going through his right shoulder.”
[Group showing St. Paul police department, J.J. Connor, Chief.]
Group showing St. Paul police department, J.J. Connor, Chief.
[Group showing St. Paul police department, J.J. Connor, Chief.]
Group showing St. Paul police department, J.J. Connor, Chief.
“By this time the men in the bank had heard the commotion and firing
outside and started to leave. Heywood, who had been on the floor,
unfortunately rose at this instant, and Pitts, still under the influence
of liquor, shot him through the head and killed him.”
“Meantime we who had escaped slaughter in the terrible bombardment we had
faced were trying to make our way to some safe place. Not far from
Northfield we met a farmer, who lent us a horse for Pitts to ride, and we
got past Dundas ahead of the news of the raid on the bank. We were also
beating it at Millersburg, but at Shieldsville we ran into a squad of men
who knew what had happened and were after us. These men had, foolishly for
themselves, left their guns outside a house, and we didn’t let them get
hold of them until we had a good start, but they overtook us about four
miles away and shots were exchanged without any trouble resulting.”
“Soon there were a thousand men on our trail and about $5,000 in rewards
for our capture. We tramped and camped and rode and watched in a strange
country and among the lakes. We didn’t know the trails and were afraid to
try the fords and bridges, knowing that our hunters would be sure to keep
their eyes on these places. Saturday morning we abandoned our horses and
decided to keep up the fight afoot. We tramped all night and put in Sunday
near Marysburg. Bob’s elbow by this time was in pretty bad shape and we
had to go slow. Finally, on Monday night and Tuesday we couldn’t go
anywhere, so we passed the time in a deserted house near Mankato. A man
named Dunning found us there and we took him prisoner. On the theory that
the dead are silent, some of the men wanted to kill him, but I wouldn’t
stand for that, so we made him swear by all that was holy that he wouldn’t
tell that he had seen us until we got away. Then we turned him loose. He
lost no time in getting into Mankato and giving the alarm, and in a few
minutes another posse was after us.”
“That night Howard and Wood decided that they wouldn’t hold back any
longer and that we were losing valuable time because of Bob’s wound, so
they left us and went on west. They stole two horses very soon, and this
helped us as well as them, for the posse followed the trail of the stolen
horses, not knowing that we had divided.”
“On Thursday morning, September 21, just two weeks after the raid, the end
came. A party of forty men soon surrounded us and opened fire. We were cut
off from our horses and our case was hopeless. We were on the open prairie
and not ready for our last flight against such odds, we fell back into the
Watonwan river bottoms and hid in some bushes.”
“When the iron doors shut behind us at the Stillwater prison we all
submitted to the prison discipline with the same unquestioning obedience
that I had exacted during my military service. The result was that we
gained friends both in prison and outside. We had been in prison a little
over seven years, when, on January 25, 1884, the main building was
destroyed by fire at night. George F. Dodd was then connected with the
prison, while his wife was matron. There was danger of a panic and a
terrible disaster. Dodd released Jim and Bob and myself. To me he gave a
revolver. Jim had an axe handle and Bob a small iron bar. We stood guard
over the women prisoners, marched them from the danger of the fire, and
the prison authorities were kind enough to say that had it not been for us
there must have been a tremendous loss of life.”
[Head Officials, Minneapolis, Minnesota Police Department.]
Head Officials, Minneapolis, Minnesota Police Department. 1. Capt. H.L.
Getchell, 5th Precinct. 2. Capt. P.J. Quealey, 2nd Precinct. 3. Capt.
Michael Mealey, Asst. Supt. Hdqrtrs. 4. Capt. Frank T. Corriston,
Superintendant. 5. Capt. Nicholas Smith, Capt. of Detectives. 6. Capt.
Geo. Reviere, Night Capt. Hdqtrs. 7. Capt. Frank Ferm, 3rd Precinct. 8.
Capt. Geo. Sinclair, 4th Precinct.
“I can say without fear of contradiction that had it been in our minds to
do so we could have escaped from the prison that night, but we had
determined to pay the penalty that had been exacted, and if we were ever
to return to liberty it would be with the consent and approval of the
authorities and the public. A little later Jim was put in charge of the
mail and library of the prison, while I was made head nurse in the
hospital, where I remained until the day we were paroled.”
“As the years went by the popular feeling against us not only subsided,
but our absolute obedience to the minutest detail of the prison discipline
won us the consideration, and I might even say, the esteem of the prison
officials. In the meantime it had been a life sentence for Bob, he having
died of consumption September 16, 1889.”
“Jim and I went out into the world July 14, 1901, after serving a few
months less than twenty‐five years. Each of us immediately found work, and
life again took on its normal hues. Poor Jim, however, was subject to
periodical spells of deep depression. The bullet that shattered his upper
jaw in our last fight in Madelia imbedded itself near the brain and was
not removed until long after we were in the prison at Stillwater. That
bullet was the cause of his occasional gloominess. After our relase from
prison Jim’s health continued precarious. He finally gave up the fight,
and on October 19, 1902, took his own life in a hotel in Minnesota.”
“I am not exactly a dead man, but I have been shot twenty‐eight times and
am now carrying in my body fourteen bullets that physicians have been
unable to extract. Twelve of these wounds I received while wearing the
gray, and I have ever been proud of them, and it has been one of my
keenest regrets that I did not receive the rest of them during the war
with Spain.”
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The following is an authentic copy of Younger’s commitment papers.