BARNEY SWEENEY "FALLS" FOR A BIT OF STRATEGY, AFTER KILLING HIS PAL IN A
FAKE HOLD-UP DOWN IN INDIAN TERRITORY.
The old Indian Territory, now the eastern portion of the State of
Oklahoma, was the scene, or stage, of many daring hold-ups and brutal
murders, during the early days, but no crime committed there was
surrounded with more mystery than the one of which I am going to relate
the particulars.
On the night of September 13th, 1882, as a north-bound M. K. & T.
passenger train was being moved out onto the main line from a siding
about a mile north of Vinita, two men climbed onto the front platform of
the smoker. "Chick" Warner, the conductor, espied them and opened the
door. Before a word had been spoken, one of the men shot the conductor
in the cheek with a small caliber revolver, making a painful and
dangerous wound. The man who is said to have done the shooting, was then
shot and instantly killed by his companion, his lifeless body falling
across the platform of the car. The man who did the killing stepped from
the train and walked back to Vinita station, where he reported to the
station agent, who also represented the express company, that the train
had been held up by the famous James brothers and Ed Miller. He named
others who had often been mentioned as members of the notorious James
gang. He stated that this gang had been camping in the woods, or brush,
on Little Cabin Creek, about four miles to the north and east of the
scene of the alleged hold-up. He had known them all personally before
coming to the territory, having been born and raised in Clay County,
Missouri, near the former home of the James boys. He also said that he
was a cousin of the Jameses. When the gang went into camp on Little
Cabin Creek, it was near to a farm where his sister lived, and where he
was staying. They met him and had told him that they intended to hold up
and rob, not only that train, but other trains on the "Katy," and
invited him to join them. He also told the express agent that he was an
expert marksman with a revolver and rifle, and that he had been
practicing shooting with his gang, and had beaten them all shooting at a
target, and that he agreed to aid them in holding up the train near
Vinita for the purpose of causing their arrest and punishment later on.
I was Chief Special Agent of the Gould System at that time, and the M.
K. & T. was one of its leased properties. Col. Eddy, the General
Manager, wired me to go to Vinita at once and investigate the affair,
and instructing me further to prosecute all parties connected with the
crime. I arrived in Vinita the next day. I had no difficulty in
establishing the identity of the man who had done the killing. His name
was John B. (or Barney) Sweeney, formerly a resident of Clay County,
Missouri, and whose reputation was all bad.
[Illustration: WILLIAM (BARNEY) SWEENEY.
Murderer, train robber and monumental liar who claimed kinship with the
James Boys.]
I ascertained that during the afternoon preceding the affair Sweeney had
been at Vinita, and while standing on the platform of the railroad
station he, with others, had seen the special train bearing General
Manager Eddy pass, south bound. The telegraph operator, of course, knew
it was Col. Eddy's train and that the Colonel was aboard, and had
conveyed the news to the spectators.
I learned that the man who had been killed was an unknown young man who
had appeared at Vinita but a few days before the trouble had occurred.
He succeeded in making the acquaintance of a brother-in-law of
Sweeney's, who lived on a farm near the alleged camping place of the
James gang on Little Cabin Creek, and with whom Sweeney was making his
home. This brother-in-law needed help to work his corn field and
employed the young man to go to work for him as a farm hand. The young
man, who appeared to be a Swede, or Norwegian, and spoke but poor
English, accompanied this man, whose name, I think, was Powell, to his
home and there met Sweeney for the first time. I also learned that the
latter had afterwards induced this unknown farm hand to accompany him
and assist him in this attempted hold-up near Vinita. Sweeney had
furnished the unknown with a little, light calibre, toy pistol, which
was afterwards picked up near the scene of the killing. Sweeney was a
man about five feet seven inches tall, stout, stocky built, and about
twenty-eight or thirty years of age, dark complexioned, dark small eyes,
a luxurious head of black hair, a rather pretentious, long, dark
mustache, and weighed about one hundred and seventy to eighty pounds. He
was very quick and active in his motions, was a great braggart, and
whenever occasion presented itself, never failed to tell people of his
great marksmanship and how fearless he was. He was raised near Missouri
City, Clay County, Missouri, where his father owned a farm in what was
known as the Missouri River bottom. He had a sister, a young woman, who
kept house for the father, his mother having died prior to the
occurrence of which I write.
Sweeney's father bore the reputation of being an honest, hard-working
man, while his son had the reputation in Clay County of being a
suspected horse thief, a notorious liar, absolutely unreliable and a
treacherous coward. He had been arrested and tried for the murder of a
reputable farmer of the neighborhood, who was shot and killed one
evening while sitting on the porch of his home with his infant baby in
his arms. The shot was fired from behind a thick hedge, from the
opposite side of the road, and from a distance of perhaps seventy-five
feet from where the farmer was sitting. Sweeney was seen going towards
the farmer's house a short time before the shooting had occurred. He had
also been seen returning to his home from the same direction some time
after the shooting. He was carrying a rifle. He was arrested and tried
for the murder of the man, and it was proved at the trial that he had
once threatened the life of the murdered farmer, who lived but a short
distance from his father's place, but he was acquitted, there being no
direct evidence of his guilt. However, a great many people of Clay
County believed then, as they do up to the present day, that "Barney"
Sweeney, as he was familiarly called, had been the murderer of the
farmer.
A short time after this, by reason of his unpopularity, he left that
part of Clay County and went to live with his sister on Little Cabin
Creek. Knowing the facts about Sweeney's bad reputation, and after
hearing the story he had told about the affair at Vinita, I concluded to
place him under arrest, charging him with having shot and seriously
wounded Conductor Warner, as well as having murdered the man who he
claimed was Ed Miller, or Wilson, thinking, as I did, that I would
surely be able to find out who this unknown man was. I knew that it was
not Ed Miller, because I knew that he was dead, having been killed while
attempting to rob a bank in a little town in Minnesota. I also knew that
at this time the James boys were not in or about the Indian Territory.
Frank James was living peaceably, as a good citizen, in Tennessee.
Jesse, his brother, was also supposed to be somewhere in that vicinity.
I knew where Dick Little, another member of the outfit, was making his
home, and thus knew that Sweeney was deliberately falsifying all the way
through. To use stronger language, he was a deliberate liar.
At the time of which I write, Captain Sam. Sixkiller, a full-blooded
Cherokee Indian, was the Chief of the United States Indian Police, and
lived at Muskogee. This police force was maintained by the United States
Government, and consisted entirely of Indians of good reputation, and it
was their duty to patrol the Indian Territory. They were armed and
mounted, and were there to protect the law-abiding Indians and other
residents and their property, especially from whiskey peddlers, of which
there were a great many plying their nefarious trade, selling the
Indians cheap whiskey at exorbitant prices, which was strictly
prohibited by the Federal laws governing the Indian Territory.
Sixkiller and his force had all authority to arrest any person charged
with a crime, on sight or on complaint. So after deciding to arrest
Sweeney, I wired from Vinita to Capt. Sixkiller, at Muskogee,
requesting him to join me at Vinita for the purpose of arresting this
law-breaker, without mentioning Sweeney's name.
In a short time I received an answer from Sixkiller's physician stating
that Sixkiller was confined to his bed with a severe attack of fever.
Upon receipt of this information, I reported to Luke Sixkiller, a
brother of the Chief, who lived at Vinita, and who was a member of the
United States Indian police force. I requested Luke to accompany me to
where Sweeney was living with his brother-in-law to arrest him. Luke
promptly told me that he would not dare arrest Sweeney unless his
brother, the Chief, was present. "Why," he said, "this man Sweeney is a
terror. He is a wonderful shot with either rifle or pistol, and it will
take at least a half-dozen men, well armed, to capture him. He is a
desperate man, and so we will have to wait until the Chief gets well
enough to come and help capture him."
I had been accompanied to Vinita by one of my assistants, whose name was
William H. Bonnell. He was a little fellow, only weighing about one
hundred and thirty pounds, inclined to be tall, but slender, had plenty
of nerve, and was a remarkably good marksman, always willing and anxious
to do his duty, and would take as many chances as any man I ever knew.
He had helped me to get the information which led me to the decision of
arresting Sweeney, and on hearing that Sixkiller was sick he at once
suggested that he and I go to the Little Cabin Creek farm and capture
Sweeney ourselves. Our conference took place in the evening, and I told
Bonnell that I would sleep over the matter and would decide by morning
what should be done.
[Illustration: WILLIAM H. BONNELL.
For many years one of Detective Furlong's trusted operatives and noted
for his fearlessness.]
I had seen Sweeney but once in my life, and that was about a year
before in Kansas City, he having been pointed out to me by an officer,
but I was satisfied he did not know me, so after carefully considering
the matter next morning, I decided that I would take a horse and ride
over to the Little Cabin place alone. I felt sure if Sweeney did not
know me, or recognize me, that I would be able to bring him into Vinita
alone, with less trouble than if I was accompanied by another stranger,
knowing, as I did, his treacherous and cowardly disposition. I reasoned
that if he saw two strangers approaching his brother-in-law's house he
was liable to open fire on us and might kill one or both of us before we
could reach him, and that he would be less liable to open fire on a lone
man. Bonnell demurred, saying that I would probably get killed going
over there alone, but for the reasons above stated, I decided to go
alone.
I procured a horse from a livery stable and started. I reached the
farm-house about 9:30 o'clock in the morning. I took a course across the
open prairie, a distance of about four miles. On the other side of this
I came to Little Cabin Creek. There was a heavy growth of timber and
thick underbrush on every side. The trail to the farm led directly
through the brush timber for about two or three miles. At last I reached
a set of bars that served for a gate directly in front of a two-story,
frame farm-house, which stood in an open field, and about one hundred
feet from the bars. The thick timber and undergrowth shut out a view of
the house, and I did not see it until my horse had reached the bars.
When I reached there I discovered the house and saw Sweeney sitting on
the porch in plain sight, and a Winchester rifle was leaning up against
the building near him. I got off my horse, placing the rein over the bar
post, let down one of the bars and crawled through. As soon as I had got
inside the bars Sweeney commanded me to throw up my hands, and looking
up at him I found that he had risen and was holding the Winchester
pointed at me. I halted. He said, "Who are you and what do you want?"