Racers as Mounts for the Bushrangers; The Shooting of Lowry; The ----
Bushrangers visit Bathurst; They hold the Town of Canowindra for
Three Days; Burke Shot by Mr. Keightley; Female Bushrangers; Death of
O'Meally at Goimbla; A Newspaper Man and his Wife Stuck Up; Lively
Times During the Christmas Holidays.
The chief necessity for a successful career as a bushranger was a
good supply of racehorses, and hence it was almost impossible for any
person to keep a really valuable saddle horse during this "Reign of
Terror," as the newspapers of the district called it. Special raids
were organised by members of the gang to obtain a supply of horses,
and the bushrangers frequently travelled upwards of two hundred miles
to secure a horse which had made a name on the turf. Thus on May
18th Harry Wilson, trainer for Mr. Allen Hancock, was exercising the
racer Jacky Morgan, within sight of the police station in the town of
Burrowa, when Gilbert rode up and said "I want that horse." "For God's
sake don't ruin me, Johnny," exclaimed the jockey. "Hold your---- jaw
and get off," was the reply, as the bushranger brought out his ready
revolver. The robber specially cautioned Wilson not to "sing out" so
that the police could hear, or he'd "be sorry for it," and in spite of
his remonstrances the jockey was compelled to dismount and walk home to
inform his employer. Mr. Hancock told him to saddle another horse. He
then took down his gun carefully, wiped and loaded it, and went away
swearing that he would never return until he had recovered Jacky Morgan.
Gilbert also took a racer out of Mr. Hammond's stables at Junee. He
stole the racers Chinaman and Micky Hunter from the stables of Mr.
J. Roberts at Currawang. When leading Micky Hunter out of his stall
Gilbert patted his neck and said, "You're the---- cove we want." Old
Comus and several other horses were taken out of Mr. Iceley's stables
at Coombing. The old horse had had a good career on the course, and
had been set apart for stud purposes, and Mr. Iceley offered a large
sum to the bushrangers to leave him alone, but Gilbert said, "There's
a good gallop in him yet," and led him away. But the bushrangers did
not devote their whole time to capturing race horses. Robberies on
the highway continued as frequently as usual. The police, however,
were not idle. In August, Sergeant James Stephenson, Constable Herbst,
and Detectives Camphin and Saunderson traced Lowry to Thomas Vardy's,
Limerick Races Hotel, at Cook's Vale Creek. When asked if there were
any lodgers there, Vardy pointed to the door of one of the bedrooms
and replied, "Yes, one there." Stephenson knocked at the door, but
there was no reply. The sergeant knocked again and called out "Come out
Lowry, it's no use." As no answer was returned, the sergeant placed
his shoulder against the door, and tried to burst it open. Immediately
some one inside fired a pistol, the bullet from which passed through
the panel of the door between the two policemen. Stephenson again
called on Lowry to come out or it would be "the worse for him," and
the bushranger replied "I'll fight you, you----. All of you." He again
fired through the door, and the bullet wounded one of the police
horses tied to the verandah. Sergeant Stephenson called on Vardy to
take the horses to a safe place, and when they were out of sight, he
and Constable Herbst again tried to force the door by leaning their
combined weight against it. Suddenly Lowry threw the door open, and the
sergeant almost fell into the room. The bushranger shouted "Come on,
you---- I'll fight you fair," and fired. The police returned the fire.
Stephenson, who was inside the room, took steady aim and pulled the
trigger. The robber fell, saying "I'm done for! Where's the priest?"
The police arrested Vardy and all his family, as well as a man named
Larry Cummins, who was in the room with Lowry, but who took no part
in the fight. When this ceremony had been completed, Lowry was made
as comfortable as circumstances permitted while a messenger was sent
off to the nearest town for a doctor. For more than an hour detective
Camphin sat by Lowry's side reading prayers from a Catholic prayer-book
which Mrs. Vardy lent him. The robber gradually grew weaker and died.
His last words were, "Tell 'em I died game." The police borrowed a
cart from a farmer who lived about a mile away from the hotel, and the
body was placed in it, covered with a blanket, and started away for
Goulburn, where this extraordinary funeral cortège arrived the next
day, Sunday, just as the people were leaving the churches.
Frederick Lowry was a native of the district, twenty-seven years of
age, and six feet two inches in height.
In the New South Wales Legislative Assembly, on August 18th, 1863,
Mr., afterwards Sir James, Martin moved that "the alarming state of
insecurity of life and property which has so long prevailed through the
country districts is in a high degree discreditable to Her Majesty's
Ministers in this colony." Mr., afterwards Sir Charles, Cowper,
speaking for the Government, said that the police authorities had full
power to take all the troopers that could be spared from the more
thickly-populated districts to the disturbed area. The discussion on
the motion lasted for a week, when it was negatived by forty-four to
eighteen votes. The Government was in fact doing all that it could
reasonably be expected to do to preserve order, and this was generally
recognised, although the Press continued to urge that more energetic
measures should be adopted, and bushranging stamped out at any cost.
The success of the bushrangers was largely due to the nature of the
country, with the features of which they were perfectly familiar. Had
there been double the number of police in the district it is barely
probable that the outbreak could have been put down much more quickly
than it was. The police showed remarkable bravery, but they were unable
to follow the bushrangers into the ranges, with the intricacies of
which they were unacquainted. It was not the number of bushrangers, but
their activity, boldness, and more than all their intimate knowledge
of the country, which enabled them to keep so extensive an area of the
colony in a ferment for so long a time.
The Carcour mail was stuck up at about a mile outside the town of
Blaney on September 23rd. A passenger named Garland refused to "hand
out" when ordered. He was told that if he persisted in his refusal he
would "get a good hiding." One bushranger stood by his side holding a
gun close to Garland's head, while another bushranger felt his pockets.
They took out two £1 notes. The coach was then taken up the ridge to
about 300 yards from the road. Here there was a level spot fairly clear
of timber, and in this little plain were eight men sitting in a ring
with a robber standing on guard over them. The coach-driver and the
two passengers were ordered to take their seats in the ring while the
letters were searched. They obeyed, and were detained more than an
hour. One of the prisoners in the ring was a trooper. When the mail had
been gone through the bushrangers, one of whom was riding Mr. Daniel
Mayne's horse Retriever, told them they might go. Garland said "It's
no use going without any money," whereupon a bushranger handed him ten
shillings and told him not to growl. It was about five o'clock p.m.
when the bushrangers rode off. They were said to be Gilbert, O'Meally,
Burke, and another.
A few days later Gilbert and O'Meally went to a cattle station some
miles from Burrangong and rounded up the horses. A stock-rider galloped
up and ordered them to desist. Gilbert told him that they were troopers
and had orders from Her Majesty the Queen to take any horses they
required. The stockman then assisted them to catch two of the best.
On Saturday, October 23rd, Hall, Gilbert, O'Meally, Burke, and Vane
walked into Mr. Perdrotta's gunsmith's shop in William Street,
Bathurst, opposite the School of Arts, and asked to see some revolvers.
They were shown a number, but said they were common things and no
good. Mr. Perdrotta said he had sold out. There had been a run on
revolvers lately on account of the bushrangers, but he expected a new
stock up from Sydney in a few days. The robbers laughed heartily, and
said that the bushrangers required to be looked after. They promised
to call again in a few days. They walked up the street to McMinn's
Hotel, and went in as the family were sitting down to tea. Miss McMinn
recognised them and screamed. She was ordered to keep quiet, but as
this made her scream louder the bushrangers left. The report that the
bushrangers were in the town spread like wild-fire, and the streets
were crowded with excited people in a few minutes. It was rumoured that
the bushrangers had robbed Mr. De Clouett, in Piper Street, and that
De Clouett had recognised Johnny Gilbert as a jockey who had ridden
for him some years before. The police hastily armed and mounted, when
suddenly the bushrangers, mounted on their horses, with revolvers in
their hands, dashed through the crowd in Howick Street, shouting, "Two
of us is good for forty---- troopers." The crowd scattered to let them
pass. The bushrangers rode through the street at a gallop and left the
town in the direction of the timbered country, avoiding the roads. The
police followed close behind, but the bushrangers had the faster horses
and got away.
On October 17th, Mr. Robinson, of Robinson's Hotel, Canowindra, was
awakened at about 1.30 a.m. by a loud knocking. He went to the door
and asked, "Who's there?" The reply was, "The police." Robinson opened
the door and was immediately ordered to "bail up." The visitors were
Hall, Gilbert, and O'Meally, the bushrangers. Mr. Robinson gave them
£3, which he took from a drawer, and said that was all the money he had
in the house. He begged them to go away. They refused, and insisted on
every one in the house getting up at once. After some delay the family
and Mr. Kieran Cummings, a lodger, were collected in the dining-room.
The bushrangers took charge and served out drinks all round. When time
for opening the house came, the bushrangers stationed themselves, one
at each end of the verandah and the third in the bar. They bailed
up fourteen bullock-drivers who were camped near the township, and
compelled them to leave their teams in the street as they arrived.
The robbers took anything they required or fancied from the drays and
marched the drivers into the dining-room of the hotel. During the
morning, Messrs. Hibberson, Twaddell, and Kirkpatrick drove up to
the hotel in a buggy. They were compelled to alight and go into the
dining-room. Ben Hall, seeing that Mr. Kirkpatrick carried a revolver,
requested him to "oblige by handing that thing over. Not that we want
it, you know; but it might go off by accident." Mr. Kirkpatrick
laughed, and gave him the weapon. Hall examined it carefully and said,
"We've got better than that. We'll leave it for you at Louden's, at
Grubbenbong, so that you may get it when you pass." Mrs. Robinson and
the cook were released and ordered to get a "first-class dinner for
the gentlemen, and we'll pay for it." The prisoners were well treated.
Food was brought in at intervals, and bottles of brandy were placed on
the table for all to help themselves as they pleased. Several boxes of
cigars were ordered, and these were opened and the cigars thrown along
the table. Robinson had promised not to "try any hanky panky," and was
allowed to go to the bar. Everything ordered was paid for without delay
or dispute. Gilbert walked to the lock-up, called out the solitary
policeman who was stationed in the town, and made him march down to
the hotel. Here he was given his musket, and ordered to pace up and
down before the verandah as if on sentry duty. When they grew tired of
showing their contempt for "the force" in this manner the gun was taken
away and the policeman conducted into the dining-room and placed with
the other prisoners to "enjoy himself like the rest." The robbers drank
very little themselves. Occasionally they ordered a bottle of English
beer, and drew the cork themselves after having examined it carefully
to make sure that it had not been tampered with. On the Wednesday
morning Mr. Hibberson begged hard to be allowed to go. He said that he
and his friends had enjoyed themselves very much, and would have been
willing to stay longer to oblige, but the river was beginning to rise,
and if it came down as usual at that time of the year they might not be
able to cross for a month. This would interfere seriously with their
business. The bushrangers listened to this plea, and then withdrew.
After a consultation which lasted several minutes, Hall came back, and
said they thought it was "a fair thing." They were very much obliged to
the gentlemen for their contributions towards the general amusement,
and they graciously gave them permission to fetch their horses from
the stable and start. An hour or so later the other persons in the
dining-room were told that they might go. This spree must have been an
expensive one. The bushrangers only took a few pounds to start with,
while they paid for everything that was consumed by the crowd between
1.30 a.m. on Monday and noon on Wednesday. At first there had been a
feeling of restraint, caused, perhaps, by fear or uncertainty, but this
soon wore off, and the party ended by being a very merry one. Several
games were started. Songs were sung, and one of the bullock-drivers
had a concertina and played dance music; several of the members of the
party danced. The women and children were allowed to go to bed, but the
men had to sleep with their heads on the table. The bushrangers only
slept for short naps in turn. On leaving Canowindra the bushrangers
rode straight to Mr. Grant's place, at Balubula, called him out, and
accused him of having given information to the police as to their
movements. As a punishment they burned his house, stacks, and standing
crop.
A week later, on October 24th, Hall, Gilbert, O'Meally, Vane, and Burke
rode up to Assistant Gold Commissioner Keightley's house, at Dunn's
Plains, near Rockley, and called on him to come out. Mr. Keightley had
been standing on the verandah, and on seeing them coming had rushed
in and slammed the door. As he did not obey, the bushrangers fired
some shots at the windows. Keightley returned the fire, and Burke
fell, crying out "I'm done for." There was very little ammunition in
the house and when this was expended Keightley surrendered. He asked
only that the women should not be molested. Vane swore he would avenge
Burke by shooting Keightley. Mrs. Baldock, wife of the camp-keeper,
who was acting as general servant at the time, rushed between the
men and pushed Vane back, crying at the time, "Oh! don't shoot him!
Recollect his wife and her little baby." Dr. Peechy, who was present,
also interfered, but was knocked down with the butt of a revolver.
Mrs. Baldock again pushed Vane away, saying, "Don't hurt the doctor.
He never did you any harm." Vane was much excited and swore a great
deal, but he did not even push the woman away. Presently Hall, who had
been some distance away, came up and told Vane to keep cool. He added
that it was impossible to say in the _mêlée_ who shot Burke. "Why,"
he exclaimed, "I might have done it myself." After a short time order
was restored, and the doctor then said that Burke was not dead. He
offered to go to Rockley for his instruments and to return immediately.
Hall said "What's the good? Better shoot him and put him out of his
misery." A discussion followed, and at length permission was given
to the doctor to go to his house for his instruments, after he had
solemnly promised "not to bring the traps" on them. After the doctor's
departure O'Meally declared his intention of taking Keightley down
the paddock and shooting him. He told the Gold Commissioner "to come
on," but Mrs. Keightley rushed between them and said he should shoot
her before he took her husband away. Hall again interfered and order
was restored. When the doctor returned he found that Burke was dead. A
lengthy discussion took place as to what should be done with Keightley.
O'Meally and Vane wished to shoot him. Hall and Gilbert were in favour
of holding him to ransom, and Mrs. Keightley undertook to pay them £500
if they would spare his life. Finally an agreement was arrived at. Mrs.
Keightley was to ride to Bathurst and bring back the money by two p.m.
the next day (Sunday). If she failed to return at that time, or brought
any one back with her, her husband and Doctor Peechy were to be shot.
The distance from Rockley to Bathurst was twenty-five miles, but Mrs.
Keightley started without misgiving. The bushrangers refused to stop
in the house during the night in case of surprise. They took their
prisoners and camped with them on a knoll, some distance away, from
the top of which they had a good view of the Bathurst Road for several
miles. This they declared would give them time to shoot their hostages
and ride away if treachery was attempted. Mrs. Keightley obtained
the necessary amount of money from her father, Mr. Rolton, M.L.A.,
and returned home an hour before the stipulated time. She handed the
money to Ben Hall, who complimented her on her endurance and pluck.
Then Mr. Keightley and Dr. Peechy were told that they were free, and
the bushrangers mounted and rode off. When this outrage was reported,
the rewards offered for the capture, dead or alive, of Hall, Gilbert,
O'Meally, and Vane, were increased to £1000, while £100 was offered for
the capture of any other of their accomplices.
A bullock-driver left Burrangong, after having disposed of his load
of produce, and camped near the Burrangong Creek, a few miles from the
diggings, when three men with blackened faces, and further disguised
with spectacles, called on him. They demanded the £45 which he had
received in payment for his load, proving that they had somehow
established a very effective system of espionage in the diggings.
He admitted that that was the sum for which he had sold his load,
but denied having the money, asserting that he had paid it away.
They disbelieved him, and searched him and his dray, shaking out his
blankets and tarpaulin. They found about £3 in notes and silver, and
went off with it. The bullock-driver had been too wide awake for them.
He had heard them coming along the road, and knowing how the district
was infested with robbers, had hastily thrust his roll of notes under a
log near his camp fire.
Peter Toohey was driving the mail coach on the road between Burrangong
and Cowra, when he was ordered to bail up by three armed men. Instead
of obeying he lashed his horses into a gallop, and did not pull up
until he reached Mr. Allen's station at Wattamundera. The bushrangers
followed for a mile or more and snapped their revolvers at him, but
they were either not loaded or missed fire. In recording this event the
_Burrangong Courier_ remarked that this was probably the fastest three
miles on record for a "Cobb's coach." This, however, is very doubtful.
The _Courier_ does not give the time, but some very tall tales of
coach-racing have been given in the Victorian newspapers of the races
run by opposition coaches on the roads from Melbourne to Bendigo and
from Geelong to Ballarat in early diggings days.
The same paper reported that Constable Clark chased and captured two
supposed bushrangers near Marengo on August 30th. When they reached
the lock-up they were identified as Kate Meally and Elizabeth Mayhew.
They were detained, but the next morning Sergeant Monaghan asked the
magistrate to discharge the prisoners, as he had ascertained from
enquiries that the girls only went out "for a bit of a spree in their
brothers' clothes."
Mr. David Henry Campbell was sitting in his house on the Goimbla sheep
station on the evening of November 19th when he heard footsteps on
the verandah. Being suspicious as to the character of the visitors,
he seized his gun and retreated to an inner room, while his brother
William retired by another door. Mrs. Campbell was in the bedroom.
The bushrangers came to the front door, and fired into the room. Mr.
Campbell returned the fire, and the bushrangers retreated. They went
to the stackyard, and fired the barn and haystack. They then returned
to the house, which was illuminated by the blazing of the barn and
stack. Mrs. Campbell came out of the bedroom, and spoke a few words to
her husband. Then she crossed the front parlour in full view of the
bushrangers, took a second gun and a powder flask from the corner, and
returned to her husband. The bushrangers fired at her, but missed,
and they then retreated along the verandah to where the shadow cast
by the blazing stack concealed them. After waiting a few minutes Mrs.
Campbell, thinking, as she could hear no sound except the roaring of
the flames, that the bushrangers had gone away, stealthily crossed the
front room and peeped out of the window. She saw three men standing
near the stackyard, and went back to inform her husband. Mr. Campbell
immediately left the house by the back door, crept gently along the
fence, taking care to keep in the shadow, and approached the men as
closely as possible without giving them the alarm. He recognised the
man nearest to him as O'Meally, and fired. O'Meally fell. Almost at the
same moment the police, having seen the reflection of the fire miles
away, and had ridden over to ascertain its cause, came galloping up.
Hall and Gilbert, the two other bushrangers, hastily mounted their
horses and went off under cover of the darkness. O'Meally's body was
conveyed to Bathurst, where an inquest was held, and a verdict of
justifiable homicide was returned. The _Bathurst Times_ reported that
locks of O'Meally's hair were being shown about and sold in the town,
and protested against it. The paper said that the authorities had no
right to allow this desecration of the body, even of a bushranger and
murderer. "The police," it added, "would not have dared to touch his
hair had he been alive. Probably Pottinger and the army of troopers
that swarmed round Goimbla when the danger was passed each took a lock
of his hair _in memoriam_ when their enemy lay prostrate and dead." A
public meeting was held in Sydney on March 3rd to consider what means
should be adopted to recognise the bravery of Mr. Campbell in daring to
resist the bushrangers and shooting O'Meally. A number of prominent men
gave addresses, and it was resolved that a public subscription should
be taken up to recoup him for the loss of his barn and stacks. The
amount collected at the meeting and during a few days after totalled
£1100. Mr. Campbell was also awarded a gold medal by the Government.
The violent deaths of Lowry, Burke, and O'Meally, in so short a time,
seemed to have very little effect on the gang, which continued its
depredations. Neither did these deaths prevent other young men from
adopting the "profession of bushranger." In fact the deaths of a few
bushrangers appear to have had less effect in deterring the criminally
disposed from taking to the roads than the immunity enjoyed by the
leaders offered encouragement. Bushranging was increasing instead of
diminishing, although for a few months very little was heard of the
Hall and Gilbert Gang. There was also some comedy mingled with the
prevailing tragedy. For instance, a blackfellow met Alexander Sinclair,
near Killoshiel, and enquired how far it was to Bathurst? Sinclair
told him, and was immediately ordered to "get off that horse." The
rider hesitated, but the darkey pushed him off the saddle, sprang
into it himself, and galloped away threatening to shoot Sinclair if
he followed, although it is very doubtful whether he had any arms on
him. The same blackfellow took possession of another horse in a similar
manner a few hours later some miles along the road. He rode both horses
until they knocked up, and then abandoned them. They were afterwards
found feeding in the bush with their saddles and bridles still on. It
was supposed that the blackfellow was just pining for a gallop and
adopted this means of gratifying himself. He was not traced.
Sergeant Donohoe captured William Dunne after an exciting chase through
the ranges, and as the sergeant did not know his way back to the high
road, he compelled his prisoner to lie down and waited patiently until
some other policemen went out in search of him. Neither the sergeant
nor his prisoner had any food for forty-eight hours. The police also
captured George Bermingham. This man was a printer, born in Sydney, and
was twenty-one years of age. When taken he was full of braggadocio,
boasted loudly of the number of people he had stuck up, and talked
familiarly of Vane and Johnny Gilbert. He laughed at the idea of Ben
Hall having been shot as had been rumoured, and said, "Wait till he's
spent the five hundred quid he got from Keightley, and you'll soon hear
of him again." Sergeant Donohoe said he had followed Dunne because he
recognised the magnificent chestnut horse he was riding as one ridden
by the robbers of the Cooma mail. Dunne and Bermingham were sent to
gaol for ten years for having been concerned in this robbery.
In the last week of November, Hall and Gilbert stuck up the Burrowa
mail. Hall expressed his disgust at the number of cheques found in
the letters, and requested some of the passengers to cash them. As no
one volunteered to oblige him he continued--"If I thought it would
injure them (the people who posted cheques presumably) I'd burn the----
lot." The two bushrangers sat down to open the letters, leaving the
passengers perfectly free. Gilbert took up one letter which had a black
border and laid it aside unopened, with the remark "We must respect
death." In one of the letters a piece of wedding cake was found, and
Gilbert proposed that they should eat it, but Hall objected, saying
"It may be a trap." This caution was common to all the bushrangers.
They were in constant dread of being poisoned, and were therefore very
cautious as to what they ate or drank. One of the passengers, Mr.
Robert Handley, described the two bushrangers as being well-dressed,
healthy looking, and very civil.
The following morning Hall and Gilbert went to Coffey's Inn, near
Burrowa, and ordered breakfast. When they had finished their meal they
walked out on to the road and stopped every one who passed, compelling
them to go into the bar after handing over their money. Mr. Campbell,
however, refused to stand when challenged. He struck spurs to his horse
and galloped away. Hall fired at him and then rushed to the verandah
and mounted his horse. He galloped only a short distance and then
returned, Campbell having too good a start. The bushrangers "shouted"
for their prisoners in the bar several times "for the good of the
house," and paid for what they ordered. It was said that they spent
nearly as much as they had obtained from the persons robbed.
On December 16th Mr. Henry Morgan, one of the proprietors of the
_Burrangong Star_, was driving, with his newly-married wife, between
Bowning and Binalong, when he was ordered to bail up by Hall and
Gilbert. Gilbert was in high spirits. He exchanged hats with Morgan,
and put his poncho on Mrs. Morgan, declaring that she would make "a
first-rate bushranger." The newspaper man and his wife were taken into
the bush, and detained from eight a.m. till six p.m. During this time
Mr. George Franklin and his wife and four bullock drays were stuck
up. One of the bullock-drivers named Sheedy had four bottles of gin
on his dray, and these were opened and the liquor served round. The
robbers asked Mrs. Franklin to cook breakfast "for the crowd," taking
the necessary provisions from the loading on the drays. During the
afternoon a number of other persons were brought into "the camp."
All except one man were allowed to move about freely. This one man
was tied, and was spoken to very roughly and uncivilly. The man was
supposed to be "a telegram," and this show of harshness "a stall." At
six o'clock the camp was broken up, and the prisoners permitted to
resume their journeys.
This performance was repeated the next and the two following days, near
the same spot, and although the individual losses were generally small,
the aggregate amount of money collected must have been considerable.
Only in one instance was any violence used. A bullock-driver named Lake
refused to turn out his pockets. Gilbert pressed the muzzle of his
revolver against Lake's face and said: "If you don't do what you're
told I'll shove this down your---- mouth." Hall felt Lake's pockets
and took out £5 in notes and some silver. At night, when released,
Lake asked for some of his money back to pay expenses along the road.
Gilbert replied: "If you're a---- carrier your name's good for what you
want. If you hadn't been so ---- jolly you'd have got something. We
always divide with them that behave themselves."
In the week ending December 23rd, the Molong, the Cooma, the Tuena,
and the Hartley mails were stuck up and robbed, proving that either
the gang was divided or that more than one party was at work in the
district.
A party including Messrs. Sheedy, Bass, Hutchinson, and other residents
of the district, with several ladies, when returning home from one of
the numerous race parties held during the Christmas holidays, were
ordered to "bail up." A lad was leading the racer Black Diamond, owned
by Mr. Sheedy, and let him go. Ben Hall was furious. He galloped after
the racer, swearing, and tried to head him, but failed. He came back
and threatened the boy and Mr. Sheedy, but soon grew cool. The ladies
were treated very civilly, but the robbers took watches and other
valuables and all the money they could find from the gentlemen. Black
Diamond was found safe in his stable when Mr. Sheedy reached home.