A CROOKED YARDMASTER'S CRIME--BOLD ATTEMPT TO THROW HIS CAPTOR OVERBOARD
FROM A STEAMER.--HIS CONVICTION, SENTENCE AND A LATER ESCAPADE.
Lawrence Poyneer was a young man about twenty-eight years of age in
1881. He was a railroad man and was employed as yardmaster by the Texas
& Pacific Railroad Company at New Orleans, La., where he had performed
the duties of his position in a satisfactory manner for about two years.
He finally went crooked and formed a conspiracy with the proprietor of a
cotton pickery in New Orleans to defraud his employers. There are a
large number of cotton pickeries in that city. Their business is to buy
up damaged cotton, such as has been through a fire and has been
water-soaked, or otherwise damaged. They pick this cotton over very
carefully, eliminating the parts that have been damaged by fire, or some
like cause, and sell the salvage for a good price. In other words, these
cotton pickeries conduct a business similar to that of junk dealers in
other cities.
Poyneer ran a car load of cotton into one of these pickeries and sold it
much below its market value. It was promptly unloaded by the pickery
men, who destroyed the marks on the bales. The empty car was located
after some time and trouble, by me, but it took a long time to locate
the cotton.
After I had ascertained what had become of the cotton and who had
bought it, I set about to find Poyneer, who had stolen it. I learned
that he had left the service of the company of his own accord, about
three weeks after the cotton in question was missed. I tracked him from
New Orleans to Palmyra, New York, where his parents resided. In Palmyra
I succeeded in obtaining a good photograph and a good description of
him. He was almost a giant in stature, being nearly six feet, six inches
in height, splendidly built, weighed two hundred twenty-five pounds, and
wore a number eight shoe. He was a fine looking fellow and an expert
railroad train service man.
From Palmyra I traced him to Buffalo, New York, from there to St. Paul,
Minn., from St. Paul I traced him to Portland, Oregon, and from Portland
to Wallah-Wallah, Washington. From Wallah-Wallah back to Ladales,
Washington, which is about midway between Portland and Wallah-Wallah,
and on the Columbia River. Here I found him in the service of the
Northern Pacific Railroad Co., engaged in painting box cars. I obtained
the necessary requisition papers from the Governors of Louisiana and
Oregon, and arrested him at Ladales, took him to Portland (the head of
navigation on the Willamette River), where I took passage for myself and
prisoner on the steamship Columbia for San Francisco.
There was no one on the steamer, not even the officers, who knew that
Poyneer was a prisoner. He had promised me that he would go with me
quietly and I did not place him in irons. I could not have hand-cuffed
him with any ordinary hand-cuffs for the reason of the enormous size of
his wrists.
[Illustration: LAWRENCE POYNEER.
The giant switchman who attempted to hurl Furlong from the deck of an
ocean steamer.]
After we had left Astoria and were out several miles on the Pacific, we
were taking a walk for exercise on the upper deck, and when we were
nearing the stern end of the vessel, and there were no other passengers,
or even any sailors, Poyneer suddenly seized me by the neck and body and
attempted to throw me over the rail into the sea. I grabbed him tightly
around his neck and under one of his arms so tightly that he could not
shake me off. I lustily called for help and one of the cabin boys heard
me, gave the alarm, and the captain and officer on the lookout in front
of the vessel came rushing to my assistance. When he heard them coming,
he let go and tried, in vain, to make it appear that he had been joking.
I explained the situation to the captain, who promptly placed Poyneer in
irons and placed him below in what is called the brig in a ship, where
he remained until we arrived in San Francisco. There I had him taken to
the city jail, where I kept him for two or three days until I had gotten
thoroughly rested. I borrowed a set of irons from Chief of Police
Crowley, placed these irons on Poyneer, and took him on board a Southern
Pacific Railroad train, and in due time lodged him safely in the Old
Parish Prison in New Orleans.
He was tried, convicted and sentenced to four years in prison in Baton
Rouge, where he served his term out. After this I lost track of him
until about ten years ago, just before the Olive Street Cable was
changed to an Electric Street Car Line, in St. Louis. I boarded a grip
car on Olive Street one morning, and to my surprise, I recognized
Lawrence Poyneer, acting as gripman on the car I had boarded. Poyneer
recognized me on sight, but he did not speak and seemed to be very much
confused. I left the car near the turning point. Later I was informed
that "Jones" had left his grip car at the foot of Olive Street that
morning. "Jones" was the name that Poyneer had given when he had secured
the position from the company as gripman about three weeks prior to my
having recognized him. He left St. Louis and has not been heard from
since, to my knowledge.