HOLD-UP OF A MISSOURI PACIFIC TRAIN FRUSTRATED--JAMES WEST, ENGINEER,
AND ELI STUBBLEFIELD, EX-CONDUCTOR, CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS ON THEM.
With the assistance of Joseph S. Manning, of my St. Louis office, and
three special agents regularly in the employ of the Missouri Pacific
Railroad, I prevented the holding up of a passenger train on the
Lexington Branch near Sedalia, on the night of November 29, 1898. This
was only done after quite a revolver battle between my posse and the
robbers, resulting in the wounding of one of the latter.
A few days before the attempted train robbery occurred, Horace G. Clark,
then General Superintendent of the Missouri Pacific, with headquarters
at St. Louis, summoned me to his office. On arriving there Mr. Clark
told me that a former employee of the company, who resided at Sedalia,
had just informed him that a plot had been formed by six railroad men,
including himself, James West and Eli Stubblefield, to hold up and rob
one of the company's trains at some point near Sedalia, Missouri. The
exact date and point had not been definitely fixed, but the informant
was to furnish a team and conveyance with which to take the would-be
train robbers to the point at which the holdup was to be made, and after
they had succeeded in robbing the train he was to take them back to the
city of Sedalia. He further informed Mr. Clark that when the date and
point of attack had been settled on he would at once advise him, as he,
the informant, had only agreed to furnish the conveyance and assist in
the robbery so that he might have the guilty parties caught and handed
over to the officers of the law.
I listened to the foregoing statement and called Mr. Clark's attention
to the fact that I never placed much credence in the information given
by any man who would deliberately enter into a scheme of this kind with
his former comrades.
Mr. Clark replied that he had known his informant, who was an
ex-engineer named Adams, as a faithful employee of the road for a number
of years, and he was in good standing with the company. Adams had met
with a serious accident, having lost one of his arms while in the
company's service, and since the accident he had engaged in a legitimate
business in which he had succeeded and had accumulated considerable
property within a few years. I had known Mr. Clark for a number of
years, and had done considerable business with him while I was chief
special agent for the Missouri Pacific road, with which company he also
held an official position. It was on account of our close friendship
that Mr. Clark had sent for me, for at this time I had severed my
connection with the Missouri Pacific road and was conducting a secret
service company in St. Louis.
Mr. Clark said to me, "Furlong, just as soon as the time and place for
this holdup has been fixed I will notify you and I want you to take
measures to prevent that train from being robbed, and catch the guilty
parties."
Early on the morning of Nov. 23rd, I received a message from Mr. Clark,
stating that he had just learned from Adams that the passenger train on
the Lexington Branch was to be held up and robbed that night, at a point
nine miles north of Sedalia, and instructing me to take immediate steps
to protect the train and prevent the robbery. Mr. Clark placed W. W.
Kay, his special agent, at my disposal, and, on consulting the official
time card of the Missouri Pacific road, I found that in order to protect
the Lexington Branch train against the contemplated robbery, I must
leave St. Louis at 8:45 that morning, so that I might board the
endangered train at Independence Junction, Missouri, that evening, as
that train was due to leave Kansas City on its east bound trip before
the one I was obliged to take from St. Louis arrived at Kansas City. I
found that if both trains were on time I would have three minutes at
Independence to make connections, and I succeeded by hustling--to use a
western expression. I only had time to catch the train from St. Louis,
and barely time to get word to my assistant superintendent, J. S.
Manning, who accompanied Kay and myself to Independence, where we
boarded the threatened train.
I told the conductor in charge of the train of the instructions I had
received from General Superintendent Clark, and instructed him that when
the train was flagged and stopped not to pay any attention to the
parties who attempted to stop the train, but to devote his whole time to
keeping his passengers quiet and to keep them in their seats in the
cars, and to see that none of them raised a window and put their heads
out. I then went over to the engineer and told him what was liable to
happen, and told him that when we arrived at a certain curve, at which
the information indicated we were to be flagged, and he saw the signal,
which would be a red light shown across the track, he should stop the
train immediately, and by all means he must not run beyond the danger
signal. I told him that after he had stopped the train he and his
fireman could squat down on what is known as the hearth of the engine,
in front of the boiler, where they would both be entirely safe, and
could not be reached by bullets fired from the ground, as the sides of
the cab, up as far as the window sills, were steel, and by stooping
down below the level of the window sills both of them would be perfectly
safe from any shots that might be fired. The engineer and fireman
understood my instructions perfectly, but I noticed that the engineer,
who was a big, husky, middle-aged man, acted as though he was an arrant
coward.
When we arrived at the first station north of the curve, which was about
two miles, I placed Mr. Manning on the front platform of the express and
baggage car immediately behind the engine. He was armed with a .44
Colts. Detective Frank Barnett, of the Missouri Pacific, with
headquarters at Ossowattomie, Kansas, and whose home was at Sedalia, and
who had joined my party at Independence, was placed on the rear end of
the express car, armed with a repeating Winchester shot gun. I boarded
the engine and took a seat on the engine box. I placed Mr. Kay on the
fireman's box on the opposite side of the engine. The fireman gave Kay
his cap to wear and I had the engineer's cap on, so that any person on
the ground, it being after dark, would naturally suppose that I was the
engineer and Kay the fireman. The real engineer and fireman stood on the
hearth in front of the boilerhead. They could attend to their duties
standing where they were as well as though they were seated on their
respective boxes. We proceeded south from the last station in this
order.
When we reached the curve, I being on the inside of the curve, saw the
signal first. It proved afterwards to be a white lantern with a red
handkerchief tied over it, which gave it the appearance of a real danger
signal. It was swung back and forth across the track, vigorously. I
called the engineer's attention to it, while we were at least two
hundred yards away.
We were running then at a speed of about thirty miles an hour. I told
the engineer to slow up, get his train under control and by all means to
be sure and come to a full stop before passing the signal. There was a
slight grade to the curve, and although he shut off his steam, he did
not apply the air-brakes, so that the train slackened its speed but very
little. I saw that we were bound to pass the signal, and again commanded
him to stop the train, but he seemed to be bent on passing that signal.
It appeared that he was too frightened to think of the air-brakes at
all. Whereupon, I threw on the reverse lever myself, or "plugged the
engine" as the engineer would say, which caused the wheels to slip,
although they did not hold to the rails or stop the speed of the train
but slowly.
Meanwhile the party who was swinging the signal light stood in the
middle of the track until the train was almost on top of him; in fact, I
thought he was going to be run down, but he did manage to leap from the
track just in time to save himself. He jumped to the left hand side,
which was the opposite side of the engine to where I was stationed. When
we passed him we were running at least fifteen miles an hour, and he
immediately opened fire on the engine with what we afterwards learned to
be a .45 Colts revolver. He riddled the upper part of the cab with
bullets. The moment the firing began I sprang from my side of the engine
to the gang way on the opposite side. It did not take me an instant to
get to that position. The gang way was just passing the fellow who was
doing the shooting and I had time then to take but one shot at him. I
knew that I hit him, for I saw him fall into the ditch. About the time
the shooting began, another would-be robber was discovered on the
right-of-way. He also began firing at the officers, sending a couple of
shots at Manning, who was on the front end of the express car, and both
of which only missed Manning's head by a margin of a few inches.
On account of the grade the train did not come to a full stop until we
had passed the place where the signal had been shown, probably a
distance of fifteen hundred feet or three train lengths. I had
instructed Messrs. Kay and Manning and Barnett that if any shooting
occurred to open fire on any person they might see on the ground,
knowing as I did that they would obey orders. I had also told the
conductor to be sure and see that none of the passengers or his crew got
on the ground, and for this reason we dare not leave the train until it
came to a full stop. After we came to a stop Kay, Manning and myself got
off of the train and started to the place where we expected to find the
dead or wounded man whom I had shot and had seen fall into the ditch.
After we had left the train the engineer began backing up, and nearly
ran over us as the train was backing faster than we could either walk or
run.
At Lexington, Missouri, the train had picked up an extra coach,
containing about twenty passengers, members of a local theatrical troupe
bound for Sedalia to give a performance there. They were what theatrical
people would call "barn stormers." Every one of them had a popgun of
some sort with them, and they began shooting out of the car windows.
When we reached the spot where I had seen the robber fall we found that
he had disappeared. There had been a light fall of snow, probably two
inches, on the day preceding the holdup, and the tracks of this man were
plainly visible, and there was also a streak of blood about two inches
in width, which led across the track from the east to the west to a road
running north and south. The wounded man had taken this road, which led
to Sedalia. While we were trying to find the trail we saw another man
attempting to get through a barbed wire fence, which was on the
right-of-way of the railroad on the east. His clothing became fastened
in the wire. He struggled, however, to extricate himself, and finally
succeeded, just at the time that Manning and I reached the place where
the other man had fallen. We saw him as he was getting through the
fence, and he started to run in an easterly direction through a large
newly plowed field. To make matters worse the ground was covered with
snow.
Discovering that our wounded man was gone, and spying the other one
running across the field, we gave pursuit. Manning succeeded in jumping
over the fence, but I thought I could get through where the robber had,
believing that he had sprung the wires and it would be easy, but I also
got caught on the barbs and it was only with difficulty that I finally
released myself. By this time Manning had got quite a lead, but soon,
however, after getting away from that fence, I overtook him, and so it
was a neck and neck race between us for at least 150 yards. After
leading us a merry chase for that distance, the robber fell, and we,
having gained on him, were close to him when he fell, and we sprung upon
and disarmed him. His hands and face were covered with blood. He lay on
the ground moaning, and we believed that he was badly wounded. There was
every possibility of his being seriously hurt, because several shots had
been fired at him by Manning and myself during our chase across the
field. The "barn stormers" had taken the matter as a general jubilee,
and had begun firing at friend and foe alike. They all had shooting
irons of some sort and threw open their windows and began firing as soon
as we began to pursue the robber. Even the express messenger, who knew
that Manning and myself were running across that field, opened fire with
a Winchester rifle from his car. Just before the robber fell, a bullet,
which had evidently been fired by the express messenger, struck the
handle of the revolver that Mr. Manning was carrying in his right hand,
splintering the handle and nearly paralyzing his hand and arm with the
concussion. If the bullet had hit Manning's hand it would have ruined it
forever.
Just as Manning and myself had grabbed and disarmed the fallen man,
Detective Barnett reached us, and jerking the handkerchief, which had
been used as a mask, from the would-be robber's face, exclaimed, "Why,
hello, Jim." We all knew then that we had captured West, whom we had
known to be in the conspiracy. "Is that you, Frank?" exclaimed West,
after which he feigned unconsciousness. West was at that time in the
employ of the Missouri Pacific, with a run out of Sedalia, where he had
resided for a number of years. He had been at one time superintendent of
a Sunday school, and stood well in the estimation of the business men of
that town. He also had a reputation among persons who knew him better
than the church people, as being a fairly good poker player, and
exceedingly fond of the game.
Manning, Barnett and myself were finally joined by the conductor and
members of the train crew, and we succeeded in carrying West back to the
train. He appeared to be unable to walk, so we had to carry him. We laid
him down in the express car, examined him for wounds and found that he
had not been shot, but he had severed some small blood vessels on his
wrist while struggling to get through the fence and had smeared his face
and clothing with blood from these wounds. He shammed being drunk, but
he was not at all under the influence of liquor.
Thinking that the wounded man could be found later, and not wishing to
delay the train any longer, we boarded the train and were soon in
Sedalia. I was personally acquainted with Eli Stubblefield, and being
pretty sure he was the man I had wounded, when we arrived in Sedalia I
sent Manning and Detective John Jackson, of the Sedalia police
department, out to watch his brother's house, where he made his home, in
the hopes that they could intercept and arrest him. Frank Barnett and
myself secured an engine at Sedalia and returned to the scene of the
attempted hold-up. Picking up the trail of the wounded man, from his
tracks and the blood in the snow, we followed it out to the main road
and on towards Sedalia. We came to a house occupied by a negro family,
which stood near the road. There the negroes told us that just after
they had heard the shooting a tall slender man, about middle aged, had
stopped in front of their house, coming from the north, and was going
south, and yelled to the occupants, stating that he had been hurt and
would give them ten dollars if they would hitch up and drive him to
Sedalia. They told him that they could not get a horse at that time of
night. He departed for Sedalia holding his right arm, and leaving a
trail of blood along his tracks. Satisfying ourselves that Stubblefield
was sure to show up at Sedalia, Barnett and myself abandoned the hunt,
returned to our engine and were again soon in Sedalia. We were right in
believing Stubblefield would soon show up in Sedalia, for about two or
three hours later the wounded man, who sure enough proved to be Eli
Stubblefield, turned up in Sedalia and near his home, where he was
captured by Manning and the Sedalia police officer, who were waiting for
him, according to my instructions. He was taken to the county jail,
where West had been incarcerated, and physicians called to dress his
wound. It was then learned that I had shot him in the right arm, the
ball entering and breaking the bones at the elbow. The wound soon
healed, but Stubblefield never had the use of the arm again, it always
hanging limp at his side.
Early the next morning West was released on a bond signed by a couple
of prominent and wealthy Sedalia business men, but later in the day, on
learning all the facts in the case, the bondsmen surrendered him to the
sheriff and he was again locked up, where he remained until his trial.
Adams, the informant, stated to me the following morning, that at the
last moment the other four who had promised to join in the robbery, had
weakened, using his expression, and therefore Stubblefield and West were
the only two he had to take out, and that after the firing had commenced
he did not wait for them, but hastily drove his rig back to Sedalia.
In due time both Stubblefield and West were tried and convicted of the
attempted holdup, and sent to the penitentiary, if my recollection
serves me right, for ten years each. They have served their time out,
and, I believe, are at large at the present time.
We found two six-shooters in the possession of West, and also two
revolvers in the possession of Stubblefield. Stubblefield was well known
as a freight train conductor, and was in the service of the Missouri,
Kansas & Texas Railroad Company, popularly known as the "Katy." West had
always been an engineer and had been in charge of a freight engine on
the Missouri Pacific for a number of years. The others who had promised
to participate in the train robbery were all ex-employees of some
railroad with the exception of one, who was a butcher. I withhold the
names of the other four, as they did not appear on the ground nor
participate in the robbery, and were not arrested or tried in connection
with the crime.
I will state here for the benefit of the reader that Adams, the
informant, had been in the employ of the Missouri Pacific Railroad
Company for a number of years as a locomotive engineer, had a good
record with the company and stood well in the community where he
resided, as a sober, reliable and intelligent man, and a good citizen.
While oiling around his engine one day at a station the throttle began
leaking, thereby admitting steam to the cylinders, which caused the
engine to move suddenly while his arm was extended through the spokes of
the drive-wheels. The sudden movement of the engine tore his arm from
the shoulder and thus terminated his career as a locomotive engineer.
The railroad company settled with Adams for the loss of his arm without
a suit, paying him quite a sum of money. It was with this money that he
began business in Sedalia as a money lender. West and Stubblefield were
among his clients, each owing him quite a sum. It was while talking with
them about their indebtedness to him that West and Stubblefield first
approached the subject of robbing the train to Adams. "We will have
plenty of money to pay you all that we owe you in a few days," said one
of them to Adams, and then they asked him to join them in pulling off
the job, which he agreed to do for the reason before stated.