"I guess you were right about that," I answered.
He stopped talking for a few minutes and then began to cry. He became
almost hysterical. We were riding in the smoking car when this
conversation occurred and his sobbing and crying attracted the attention
of the passengers in the car, and it was really pitiful to see a strong,
athletic looking young man like Watts sob and cry like a child. He
finally ceased and said, "Well, I am glad you got me. I have never had
an hour's peace or rest since that night at Catholicsburg, Kentucky."
"Why," I said, "What happened at Catholicsburg?"
He answered, "Oliver Beach shot my father, James Watts, in our boat at
Catholicsburg, and he and Brooks put the body into the Ohio River. He
killed him with my gun. I knew they were going to do it, but I did not
take any part in the killing. Now, I am going to tell you all about
myself and my companions since I left Brookville."
I told him that while I would be interested in hearing what he had to
say, it would be used against him at his trial at Brookville, and that I
would, therefore, prefer that he would not tell me anything about his
crimes until we got back to Brookville, and then if he felt like talking
and making a confession, he could do so to the prosecuting attorney, and
the authorities there; that my part in the matter would end upon my
delivering him to the officers, and I would rather that he defer talking
until we arrived in that city. However, he insisted on telling me about
the numerous crimes that he and his associates had committed while going
down the Ohio River, about his capture at Paducah, Kentucky; his
conviction, his pardon and the conviction and pardon of two members of
his gang from the penitentiary.
He was especially proud of one piece of work done by the gang while
making their home in a house-boat anchored on the Illinois side of the
river opposite Paducah. Watts, Beach and Alston rowed across the river
to the Kentucky side in a four-oared skiff. It was cold and freezing.
They were looking for plunder and spied a large egg-shaped coal stove in
the office of a coal company on the levee. This stove had been filled
with coal and was red hot, and the fire had been banked for the night
with ashes, and the "gentlemen" before named, broke open the door of the
coal office, procured a wide, strong plank, run it under the red-hot
stove and took it to their house-boat, where they installed it without
permitting the fire to go out. So that they thus succeeded in stealing
and getting away with a red-hot stove, which was a verification of the
old saying that "there was nothing too hot or too heavy for them."
In due time we arrived at Brookville, where he insisted on making a full
confession, which he did, in the presence of Prosecuting Attorney Reed,
Sheriff W. P. Steele and myself. This confession, which was voluntarily
made and sworn to before the clerk of the court, witnessed and attested
by Mr. Reed, Steele and myself, is as follows: