She replied, "His first name is John, and his last name is the same as
his master's. I can't recall it."
"Was his master's name Perry?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered, "That's it, John Perry. But John is not in town
now. He left town last Monday. He came over and saw Liza, and told her
he was going to San Antonio to attend the races there this week. He
writes her every day, though, and she got a letter from him this
morning."
I asked her if she could let me see the letter without Liza's knowledge.
She said, "Oh, yes, I'll send Liza over to the drug store on an errand
and I can get it then before she returns."
She sent Liza to the drug store, and got the letter and gave it to me.
It was in the envelope and had been mailed the day before at San An--the
balance of the word not appearing, because the mailing stamp had not
touched the paper. I believe it to be San Antonio, since he was supposed
to be there.
Upon receiving this information I asked Miss Johnson to treat my visit
in confidence, which she promised to do. I then located a plumbing shop
where I found the proprietor and his brother, about eighteen years of
age, who at once recognized the piece of pipe, which he said he had cut
from a large joint for a negro the Friday before the murder. He
described the negro fully as Miss Johnson and others had done, and said
he could identify him any place on sight. I immediately arranged with
the elder plumber for his brother to accompany me to San Antonio at my
expense, with the understanding that I was to pay him for his time. The
boy put on his best clothes and we left Dallas that night for San
Antonio, arriving there next morning. We went to the Menger Hotel, and
while at breakfast the hotel clerk brought me a telegram from Sheriff
Cabel, of Dallas, reading as follows:
"Go to San Angelo, Texas, at once."
Before leaving Dallas I had arranged with the sheriff and Miss Johnson
to examine all letters received by Liza. On the morning of my arrival at
San Antonio Liza received a letter from the San Angelo postoffice with
the postmark plainly stamped upon it. I took the first train for San
Angelo, which left that evening. We arrived at San Angelo next morning,
Sunday.
San Angelo was, at the time, a small cattle shipping town, and within an
hour after our arrival I learned that the negro, John Perry, had left
San Angelo on Saturday evening, with a ticket to Lampasas, Texas. I also
learned that I could not leave for Lampasas until Sunday evening, as
there was only one daily train each day. Sunday evening we left for
Lampasas, where we arrived about 8:00 a. m. Monday morning. Lampasas was
the county seat and it was court week. The town was filled to
overflowing by reason of the court. The depot was about one-half mile
from the postoffice in the center of the city. Getting off the train the
boy and myself walked over to the hotel, and as we neared the postoffice
we noticed a large crowd around it evidently waiting for mail. The boy
from Dallas called my attention to a colored man, who was wearing a
light Fedora hat, with a blue serge suit, and was well dressed. He stood
away from the crowd near the postoffice, evidently waiting for mail. The
boy pointed to him and said, "That's the nigger that I sold that piece
of pipe to."
We were in front of the store when he recognized John Perry, whom it
proved to be. I told the boy to stay right there until I had captured
the negro. He could then quietly follow us to the jail unobserved. I
went over near the place where the negro stood and concluded that I
would wait until he had received mail, which he was evidently expecting.
In a few moments the negroes formed a line to the window where they
received their mail. In a short time John reached the window and
received a letter. He left the line and walked around the corner of the
building, opened the letter and took from it a couple of bank notes,
hastily placed them in his vest pocket and proceeded to read the letter,
which was written in lead pencil. Meanwhile, I had gotten within reach
of him without being noticed by him or any one else, when I suddenly
threw a 41-calibre Colt revolver into his face, commanding him to throw
up his hands. To my surprise he suddenly plunged his hand inside the
waist of his trousers and attempted to draw a nine-inch barrel,
45-calibre Colts, concealed under his vest. Before he could draw it I
seized his hand and his revolver and commanded him in forcible tone to
desist. The moment I leveled my revolver on him the crowd's attention
was attracted. One of them, who was standing very close, was about six
feet tall, and really the thinnest looking individual I had ever seen.
He wore a hat with a very wide brim, making him look much thinner. He
promptly threw a 45 Colt on both of us, and with a voice as shrill as a
wild goose, yelled, "Heah, heah, I am the sheriff of this county and I
command peace."
To which I replied, "Mr. Sheriff, take hold of this negro. I'm an
officer from Dallas and have arrested him for murdering a white man
there."
The sheriff grabbed one side and I the other, and we started for the
jail, nearby. The crowd hearing that I had arrested him for the murder
of a white man, talked of lynching, but the sheriff, whom they knew and
respected, told them that the prisoner should be dealt with by law, and
that he intended to protect him. We took him to jail, where I searched
him. I took from him the letter which he had just received, and which he
tried to tear in pieces. I also took the two bank notes which he had
received in the letter. They proved to be two treasury notes. I placed
the fragments of the letter together, which had been mailed from Dallas
and which read about as follows:
"I enclose you one hundred dollars, on receipt of which you must go
quietly and at once to the City of Mexico. I will join you there.
Detectives are on to us, and you must not let them catch you. It would
be fatal." (Signed) John Perry.
I took everything of a metallic nature from him, and had the sheriff
lock him up in a cell, as I knew he would be compelled to remain in
Lampasas for twenty-four hours, until we could get a train for Dallas.
By the time he was searched and locked up it was nearly the dinner hour,
and I instructed the sheriff to feed the prisoner, but not to allow him
a knife or any article with which he could do himself bodily harm. I
explained to him that it was very important that I get the prisoner back
to Dallas safely, as we wanted to get a statement from him as to why he
had killed Temple.
I had just gone into the dining room to get something to eat, when a
deputy sheriff rushed into the room and called my name, to which I
answered. He said excitedly, "Come to the jail at once. That nigger of
yours has cut his damned head nearly off."
The hotel was just opposite the jail and it took only a short time to
get there. I found the jailor, on discovering what the prisoner had
done, had pulled him out of the cell into the corridor, where he was
lying on the iron floor, with his throat cut almost from ear to ear. In
the cutting he had not severed the jugular vein, but had cut the wind
pipe. It was a tremendous gash. He could breathe fairly well, and could
speak, but with difficulty.
Meanwhile the sheriff had summoned an old doctor, who arrived at the
jail shortly. He looked at the prisoner and said, "Why, that nigger will
die. I can't do a thing for him," and he positively refused to do
anything. I pleaded with him to sew up the wound and save the life, as
it was of great importance to the people of Dallas. It was all in vain.
We finally succeeded in getting a young doctor of the town, who came and
tenderly dressed the wound, and stated that with proper care the negro
would live. I assisted the doctor all that I could, and stayed there
with him from that time until we left Lampasas the next morning. I had
my meals brought to the jail to me.
About the middle of the afternoon, after the wound was dressed, Perry
began to feel better, and I presume, by reason of my kind treatment of
him he told me that his young master, John Perry, had induced him to
come to Dallas for the purpose of killing his partner, Mr. Temple; that
he (his master) had paid his expenses and had been liberal in furnishing
him with spending money, also that he was to give him five hundred
dollars after he had killed Temple. He said he did not want to do it,
and tried to get out of it after he had reached Dallas, but his master
threatened to kill him unless he did so. He said he killed Temple
because he feared his master would kill him. He said that on the Sunday
night previous to the murder he was about to pounce upon another man of
Temple's congregation. This man resembled Temple so much that he was
about to kill him for Temple, and would have done so but for the fact
that his master was in hiding across the street and rushed out and
prevented his making a mistake. He also confessed that he had received
a telegram on the day that he had left San Angelo, telling him to go to
Lampasas and call at the post-office for a letter, which was the letter
mentioned above.
Whereupon, I wrote a telegram to Sheriff Cabel, which read as follows:
"Negro has cut his throat and is dying. Give this message to the
newspapers and have them get out an extra at once, without fail. Will
wire you explanation two hours later."