The next day I telegraphed to Philadelphia to an operative in my employ
there. He was an entire stranger in St. Louis. I wired him to come at
once, and not to stop at my office, but to come direct to my house on
his arrival in the city, which he did.
His name was John McCulloch. He was about thirty-five years of age,
about five feet, ten inches in height, and weighed about two hundred
pounds. He was well built, had a sandy complexion, and was rather a
good-looking fellow. He was wearing side-whiskers, or burnsides, as they
were called, and a blonde mustache, and looked very much like an
Englishman. He was truthful and honest, and of sober habits, but a
little thick-headed, or, in other words, dull of comprehension. In
instructing him it was necessary to explain each detail fully, and
sometimes it would seem as if it were necessary to take a hammer and
pound the instructions into his head, but when he once understood
thoroughly what you wanted him to do he would carry out instructions to
the letter.
Right here it might be well to take the reader into my confidence. I had
decided to get my operative (McCulloch) into jail, where he could meet
Maxwell, without the knowledge of the local police officers.
After explaining the nature of the case to him, I instructed him to
procure the leading daily papers of St. Louis, dating back to the time
of the murder, and to read every line that had been published relative
to the case. This he did, and it took him about three weeks. I met him
each evening during the time and rehearsed with him what I wanted him to
do, from the time he was arrested, and how he should act after his
arrest and incarceration.
Early in February, 1886, I succeeded in getting possession of a few
blank checks from the office of D. S. H. Smith, who was local treasurer
of the Missouri Pacific Railroad Company in St. Louis. Being Chief
Special Agent of the road I had occasion to visit the local treasurer's
office frequently, and being well known, not only to the local
treasurer, but to all of his office force as well, I had no difficulty
in obtaining the blank checks without the knowledge of Dr. Smith, as
the local treasurer was called by most of the people who knew him, or
any of his clerks.
My chief clerk was a good penman, and was familiar with the signature of
Dr. D. S. H. Smith. I had him practice for some time on imitating Dr.
Smith's signature, and found that he could imitate it so clearly that it
would have been accepted as genuine by any bank teller. While I wanted a
fairly good imitation of the signature, I did not want it to be so good
that it would be received at the bank. After practicing for a time he
succeeded in making a signature which I thought would answer my purpose.
I had him fill out one of the blank checks for the amount of one
thousand one hundred and eighty-eight dollars and ten cents. I then gave
this check to McCulloch, with instructions to him to present it to the
paying-teller of the Mechanics Bank, which was then on Fourth street. He
was to present this check at 9:45 sharp, the following morning. I had
received a check, a day or two before this, which bore the signature of
Dr. Smith, and had purposely held this out, and was waiting across the
street from the bank when I saw McCulloch, whom I will hereafter call
Frank Dingfelter, as this was the name he assumed, and was the name to
which the check had been made payable.
On entering the bank Dingfelter went to the window of the paying-teller,
Mr. Warner, and presented the check. Warner examined the check very
carefully, and by reason of its being for so large an amount, and
Dingfelter being an entire stranger to him (I, having allowed Dingfelter
time enough to have reached the paying-teller's window, entered the bank
with my check in my hand), held the check that Dingfelter had presented,
and when he saw me he excitedly motioned to me to come to his window. On
reaching the window Warner commanded me, in an excited manner, to
arrest that man, pointing to Dingfelter.