The Big Haul
It was a soft October night with a bare threat of frost in the air;
the sky gray with stars, and a vast silence.
Three men were lying out before a fire of tree limbs in a forest. It
was a country of mountains, the foothills of the Alleghenies
extending westward toward the Ohio. In every direction were wooded
hills, the rough mountainous foothills of the great range as it
broke down westward toward the flat lands.
For some reason that I do not know, Mooney was confident that he had
finally located the treasure train for which he had been always
looking.
As I have said before, in this narrative, I did not know what
sources of information were available to this man, but I think he
had some cue to what was being shipped. At any rate he was confident
that, at last, he was about to make “the great haul.”
We had come into this country together and had got off at a town
some fifty miles distant from the point at which we were now lying
before our wood fire. From this town we had each taken a different
train to a station in the direction of the place at which Mooney
intended to make the holdup. I had gone to a station farthest along
the line; from the two other stations, Mooney and White had walked
along the track until they picked me up. We came finally to the
water tank in the mountains, at which point Mooney had determined to
hold up the New York & St. Louis Express.
He knew all about this train; knew that it stopped at this water
tank in the mountains on schedule time, and knew what it carried on
this night.
We had all gone about a mile and a half east of the tank where a
small stream came down out of the mountain. We had followed this
stream perhaps a quarter of a mile into the wood and there we had
built the fire.
At midnight we got up and followed the little stream down to the
track; here we divided; White was to go about two miles west along
the track, while Mooney and I were to take up a position in the
shadow of the water tank.
We were barely in position, in the heavy shadow, when I heard the
train; it seemed far off, a low rumble in the mountains. Then
suddenly it thundered through a gap in the hills and pulled up by
the tank. It required only a few moments to take water, and as the
train pulled out Mooney and I slipped from the heavy shadow and
swung up on the rear of the tender.
We climbed very quickly down towards the engine cab.
Here I very nearly had a serious accident. I caught hold of
something in the darkness which looked like a hand rail. It proved
to be a rake used by the fireman, and it was hot. The inside of my
hand was scorched. I made some exclamation unconsciously indicating
that my hand was burned. The fireman and engineer both turned toward
us.
They were met by Mooney, the black mask over his face and a pistol
in his hand.
I had recovered myself and stood now beside him, also masked and
with a weapon. It was the old form of mask which Mooney had
invented; attached to the inside of the hat and loaded with shot to
hold it down. The men in the engine cab made no resistance. The
fireman merely stood with his mouth open, like a child before a
ghost. The engineer had some composure.
“Don’t shoot,” he said; “what’s the order?”
Mooney told the engineer to stop opposite a fire he would see on the
right hand side of the track about a mile further on. With the
pistol at his temple the engineer was not slow to obey this
direction. Mooney had told White to build a fire beside the track
when he reached the point about two miles west.
White had suggested a flash light as being better for this purpose.
But Mooney said there was always a possibility of a wrecking train,
or some special, passing, and if so, the man with the flash light
would stop the wrong train, but if it were a fire, built in the
woods, a passing train would give it no attention, as merely a hobo
camp.
White had followed his direction and we presently pulled up by the
fire. Mooney left me to guard the engineer while he took the fireman
in front of him and went down the side of the train. He made the
fireman cut the train in two back of the mail car.
I stood in the door of the cab with my weapon on the engineer. I
knew when the train had been cut, and, as Mooney had directed me, I
ordered the engineer to pull forward for fifty yards and stop.
Mooney sent the fireman back to the rear of the train after the mail
car had been uncoupled, then he went forward and joined White.
The two men took the clerks out of the mail car; they selected the
chief clerk, then they sent the remainder of the mail clerks to the
rear of the train. There was a touch of thoughtfulness in Mooney’s
consideration for these men; there was a chill of frost in the air
and he told them to put on their coats before they went out into the
night.
When these men had gone back to the rear of the train, Mooney,
White, and the chief clerk got into the mail car, then they signaled
the engineer to move ahead. I understood the signal and when the
engineer paid no attention to it I spoke to him as roughly as I
could.
“Go ahead,” I said, “until you are stopped with the air signal.”
He pulled the train out without a word, and when he got the air
signal he stopped.
Here Mooney left White in the car with the clerk and got down on the
ground in order to keep watch for any one who might be coming. I
learned afterwards precisely what happened in that car. The clerk
made some objections and Mooney spoke to him from the darkness
before the open door:
“Friend,” he said, “you are steppin’ on a trigger.”
It was the end of every form of hesitation.
The man pointed out the mail sacks at once. White cut the straps and
dumped the contents on the floor. He found a lot of securely sealed
packages which he knew from experience contained money. Tearing open
the corners of a few of them he discovered that they were bank
notes. He spoke to Mooney who now came up to the door of the car.
White was amazed; he realized that they had found the
long-looked-for big haul.
They selected one of the light mail sacks and put the packages into
it. Mooney then came forward to the engine. White sent the mail
clerk back down the track. Mooney now took charge of the engineer.
He made him pull down the track for perhaps half a mile, then he
stopped and put him off. He ran the engine, himself, for perhaps a
mile farther, then stopped again. White and I got out of the train
and Mooney gave the engine just enough steam at the throttle so that
it would move off slowly and stop a mile or so farther on, then he
swung down on the ground and joined us. He did not open the throttle
of the engine for he knew that on the twisting road through the
mountain the train might go off the track on the sharp curves.
It was his policy never to do unnecessary damage. He did not wish to
wreck the train or cause the possible wreck of any other train
traveling in the night.
We turpentined our shoes, and started in a due line north by west
toward a town on the Ohio River. We traveled all night. When
daylight appeared we stopped and hid ourselves in the mountains.
Here, Mooney and White opened the mail sack and examined the
packages of money.
They had one hundred and two thousand dollars in bank notes.
But it was not in the form of such bank notes as one is accustomed
to see. The notes were in sheets and unsigned, in the form that the
United States Treasury is accustomed to send currency to the
national banks.
This discovery did not seem to impress Mooney but it put White in
despair.
For a long time Mooney said nothing; finally he took White to one
side and talked with him; presently they came back to me. He showed
me the sheets of notes and pointed out that they could not be used.
They lacked the signatures of the bank officers and an attempt to
pass them would lead immediately to one’s arrest.
They determined now to hide the money and go on.
It was necessary to put it in some place where it would not be open
to the rain. For this purpose they looked about for a hollow tree.
Finally they found a chestnut on the wooded ridge of the hill. They
put the mail sack into the hollow of this tree—crowding it up
tightly so that it would not fall down—then they skillfully filled
the hollow of the tree with leaves and a few broken branches,
removing with care every trace of their work.
We went on.
We slept during the day, in the leaves, hidden by a tree top or
covered by a log and traveled at night. It was a long tiresome
journey. We carried provisions for three days. We had a compass,
flash lights, and a map; but it was heavy traveling in the night,
over the ridges of hills, across ravines, and through the dense
undergrowth of the valleys.
Finally, we came out before the town on the Ohio. Here Mooney handed
me five hundred dollars and told me to return to the circus; giving
me the name of the town for which I should purchase a ticket at the
station.
I never saw either of the two men again.
But I learned afterward what happened to them.
It was by no means the intention of these two men to abandon this
fortune in bank notes.
They brought the money in after I was gone. White went into the town
and bought a big traveling bag in a pawnshop. They put the notes
into it and checked it to a city in the southwest. But first Mooney
examined the notes, taking down the names of the national banks to
which they were consigned.
Then they made a rather extended tour together.
They went to the cities in which these national banks were located
and picked up there bills issued by the banks; this gave them the
signatures their money required.
Mooney showed White how to get the signatures on the currency.
He used a simple and ingenious method. He placed the bill of which
he wished to take off the signature on a piece of glass about 3 x 6
inches. He procured a pasteboard box and cut a hole in it somewhat
larger than the length and width of the signature; then he placed
the glass with the bill on it over this hole. He then laid a piece
of white paper over the glass and put a high candlepower light
inside the box. It was then an easy matter to trace the signature he
wanted on the white paper.
They then made a rubber stamp of the signature; making first a steel
etching of the traced signature and after that the stamp. They then
cut the bills, stamped them with the proper signatures, divided the
money and separated.
It seemed that the two men were not of one mind about the risk that
would follow the use of this money. Each adhered to his own
judgment. They were agreed upon one thing, that having made their
great haul, this form of criminal adventure was ended. They were
through with train holdups. They had each some fifty thousand
dollars in currency.
After having divided the money, Mooney followed the old plan of
trusting his share of it in the traveling bag. He checked it to
another point farther into the southwest, while White remained where
he was.
I am going to tell you what happened to White.
This daring robbery, with the loss of the big consignment of bank
notes of the Treasury, produced immense excitement in the country.
At two o’clock on the night of the holdup, the conductor in charge
of this train reported from the first telegraph office that he could
reach, that his train had been held up one mile west of that point,
by masked men who compelled the members of the crew, except the
chief mail clerk and engineer, to get off, and cut the mail car from
the rest of the train, taking it west with the engine.
The chief clerk returned at three o’clock in the morning and
reported that the robbers had stopped and compelled him and the
engineer to get off. They had then taken the engine and car farther
west.
At 3:00 o’clock the engineer reported that he was on his way west
looking for the engine.
At 4:15 o’clock he called from a way station, saying that he had
found the engine and would come back at once for the rest of the
train.
Immediately special trains were sent out, taking United States
Marshals, the sheriffs of neighboring counties, officers, and
bloodhounds. In a very short time Secret Service men, post-office
inspectors, and all the best experts in the service of the
government were on the scene.
But they were totally unable to discover anything.
The turpentine which we had used made the use of the bloodhounds of
no benefit to the detectives, and it was not possible to discover
the point at which we had left the engine and mail car. Nevertheless
the search was not abandoned.
It extended itself now in wider directions.
The banks throughout the country were notified of the serial numbers
of this currency; and the thing which Mooney, wiser than White,
foresaw, presently occurred. A clearing house in the southwestern
city to which White had gone, notified the Treasury Department at
Washington that one of these serial numbers had passed through.
The Treasury Department acted at once.
It sent two officials to this city to run the matter down. These men
were careful, experienced and able detectives. They set on foot
every investigation which seemed likely to have any result; but they
were not able to discover the source of the note which had been
observed by the clearing house.
But they remained in charge of the undertaking.
Finally fortune favored them. One day, a young girl came in to the
post office to deposit part of her salary at the Postal Savings
window. A bill which she offered was of the serial numbers of the
stolen currency. The post-office clerk who had been instructed to
look out for these numbers immediately called the two government
detectives to the window.
When questioned, the girl said she had gotten this bill from a
machinery company as part of her salary.
The two detectives went to this company.
They found that this particular note had been brought in by one of
their drivers who had received it from a man named White. They
discovered that this man White had a machine shop in the city.
They did not at once undertake to interview White.
They shadowed the machine shop until they had an opportunity to get
very careful observations of White. They had little data to go on,
but they thought he was about the size of one of the bandits
described by the mail clerks.
They examined the names attached to the note and finally determined
they had been made with a rubber stamp. They, then, interviewed all
the local stamp dealers, but could find no one who had any knowledge
of such a stamp.
However, they remained in the city and continued to shadow White.
They followed him from place to place, and wherever he made
purchases they would go in after him and demand of the storekeeper
the note which White had passed, giving another in place of it. They
would, then, have the person from whom they had obtained the note
write his name on it so that it could later be identified as having
been received from this man White.
In this manner they finally got a number of bills bearing the serial
numbers of the notes which had been taken in the train robbery. But
this was all the evidence they were able to obtain.
Finally when investigations in other directions all failed to bring
anything more to light, they determined to arrest White. Accordingly
one day they followed him when he got on a street car at his machine
shop, and when he got down, at some place of business in the city,
they stepped up to him and asked him if his name was White. He said
it was; they then asked him to go with them to help in regard to
some forgeries. White very willingly said that he would be glad to
help them in any way he could and would go if they insisted; but
that he knew nothing about any forgeries.
They took him to their office in the post-office building.
Here he was searched and a roll of these lost bills found in his
possession. They were all on the same bank, and, what seemed
significant, their serial numbers ran consecutively.
When questioned about where he had obtained this money, White
replied that he had won it in a poker game from two men who had come
into his shop several days before.
The two government detectives did not believe this story.
They talked to White a long time, but his statement could not be
shaken. He described the two men with whom he had played poker, gave
in detail their inquiries about some work they wished done at his
shop, pointing out the exact time at which the thing occurred, and
how the poker game had been led up to. He did not know the names of
the two men, but gave precisely their description.
The two government detectives remained unconvinced and they
determined upon an old experiment.
They took White to jail and locked him into a cell. Then they went
out, returned by the rear entrance and placed themselves where they
could watch the man in the cell. Here White, now very much
concerned, fell unconsciously into habits which he had acquired in
similar surroundings. He put his hands behind him and began to pace
up and down the cell—three steps down, three steps up, slowly, back
and forth—his head dropped forward in reflection.
The two government detectives watched him for a few minutes, then
they went out. They decided that White must have a penitentiary
record somewhere on account of his actions in the cell. The two
detectives went down to the telegraph office and sent a message to
every penitentiary in the United States, giving an accurate
description of White, and the holdup in which they believed him to
have taken part. They received a reply from the warden of a
penitentiary in the northwest, saying that a man answering that
description had served time for train robbery.
The detectives now determined to take White north for trial.
On this trip White escaped from the custody of the officials. The
manner of his escape was extraordinarily clever. It was done without
a struggle of any character. White simply disappeared.
The two detectives were traveling with White in the stateroom of a
pullman. The design of these staterooms is familiar to every one. On
the right of the entrance door is a couch running the full length of
the side of the room. On the immediate left is the lavatory and next
to that, also on the left, are the two double seats facing each
other across a small aisle. White sat next to the window on the
first seat beside a guard. The two government detectives were on the
couch facing White.
About ten o’clock at night and just before the train pulled into a
station, one of the government detectives went out into the car to
look up a porter in order to have the berths made up for the night.
As he left the stateroom, the other detective arose and stood in the
open door.
White, who had been sitting apparently asleep, got up slowly,
yawned, extended his arms and started leisurely toward the lavatory
door. The main door to the stateroom stood open. It was hinged to
swing inward and when so open covered the door to the lavatory. This
door to the stateroom was now about half open and the government
detective was standing in the door.
White had barely space enough to pass behind this door in order to
reach the lavatory, but he edged himself deliberately through
without arousing the slightest suspicion. Before the government
detective could step around the stateroom door in order to follow
White, he had entered the lavatory, slammed the door and locked it.
The government detective, now alarmed, began to beat on the steel
door and demand that White open it.
He received no answer, and, as it was impossible to break in the
door, he ordered the train stopped. Leaving the guard before the
door of the stateroom the two government detectives now jumped down
from either end of the car. These two men hurried toward each other
along the side of the car on which the stateroom was located. But
they found no sign of White. They then discovered that White had
made his way through the small window in the lavatory and dropped
off the moving train.
The authorities had now a definite description of White.
This they put out over the country, and another great man hunt
began. It was the theory of the officials that White, like any other
criminal who was being sought after, would at once undertake to
leave the country. White knew this and he determined upon precisely
the reverse of this course. He selected the most conspicuous and
consequently the very last place that detectives on the search for a
criminal would be likely to look.
They were finally able to trace him to Cincinnati. They had his
photograph and thousands of circulars were struck off from it and
posted in every depot and public place in the country; sent out
broadcast to every city and every federal officer. The clew in
Cincinnati mysteriously vanished.
But this man, clever and resourceful, was not fated to escape.
One day a medical student in a college in the middle west called on
the local post-office inspector. He said that he had seen the poster
describing White, which had been placed all over the country and had
observed the resemblance to a fellow student in the college. There
was a reward of $1000, and he wished to obtain this reward. The
student studied the description given in the poster. One of the
items of description was that the man wanted had a split thumb nail.
The student waited for an opportunity to observe his suspected
associate’s thumb. He found that the man’s hand corresponded to the
description; “ridge extending the full length of the thumb nail on
the left hand ... the thumb nail has evidently been split open and
the ridge left as a scar ... the third finger of the left hand is
somewhat crooked and stiff.”
The government authorities were at once notified by the post-office
inspector. The suspected student was shadowed, identified as White
and arrested.
He was brought north; this time attended with every precaution and
handcuffed to a guard. Here he was tried for the robbery, convicted
and sentenced to twenty-five years in the penitentiary.
Thus closed the career of White. The finish of Mooney was more
adventurous and spectacular.