AN EXPRESS MESSENGER ROBS A TRAIN IN NEW YORK OF THIRTY-SIX HUNDRED
DOLLARS--HE LOSES AT CARDS AND DRAWS UPON THE FUND IN HIS KEEPING--OFF
FOR THE WEST--TRACED TO DENVER AND THEN TO SANTA FE BY DETECTIVE
ARNOLD OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN DETECTIVE ASSOCIATION--ONLY TOO GLAD TO
GET AWAY--THE ROBBER ROBBED IN A GAME OF POKER WITH HIS LANDLORD, WHO
THEN ATTEMPTS TO DETAIN HIM FOR HIS BOARD BILL--BESIEGED FOR A
NIGHT--JOE ARNOLD AS AN ARTFUL DODGER.
John A. Bemis is the name of a young man who must figure in this narrative
because of his weakness--because he allowed himself to fall into bad
habits when he was entrusted with money belonging to other people. When
the crime was committed in the summer of 1877, Bemis was, and is yet if he
is still living, a young man of good family. His people resided in
Syracuse, N. Y., whence Bemis started out on one of the New York railroads
as an agent for the American Express company, running into New York. As
agent for a big carrying enterprise running into the nation's financial
metropolis, he became the custodian of large sums of money, often carrying
a million dollars on a single trip. He was implicitly trusted by the
company, being a young man whose life was supposed to be singularly
exemplary, and backed by family connections of the very highest order.
There were many times that he might have made a big haul without taking
more than the ordinary risk which thieves take. But he seems to have
resisted all the more luring bait which was thrown out to him, and to have
at last been tempted by a comparatively small sum.
As was learned after his arrest by the Rocky Mountain Detective
Association, he fell into loose company one day while carrying $3,600 for
his company. He was lured into a game of penny-ante poker, which assumed,
before the game was finished, extensive proportions. Having exhausted his
own pile, and feeling chagrined at being beaten, he drew upon the money
which he held in trust. He did not draw upon the pile very extensively,
but sufficiently to create a deficit which he was unable to make good.
Finding himself in a corner, fearing to explain his breach of trust, and
being unable to supply the missing sum himself, he decided in an evil
moment upon flight, and also concluded to carry the residue of the
company's money in his possession with him.
This decision once formed, he left his express car at a way station, and
jumping upon a train coming westward, was off before the theft was
discovered.
The company was thunderstruck when the crime was discovered. The New York
papers were full of the details a few days afterwards, and the wires
carried the report to all sections of the country, dwelling upon the young
man's family connections, the trust which had been reposed in him, and
filled with surmises as to what could have induced him to take the foolish
step which he had taken. Soon followed other telegrams and posters, the
latter carrying portraits of the young fellow, offering a reward of $800
for his apprehension. The express company determined upon close pursuit
and the capture and punishment of the defaulter, not because they did not
respect the feelings of his family, but because they felt that he should
be made an example of. Detectives throughout the eastern states and as far
west as the Mississippi river were put to work on the case. They sought in
vain for the fugitive. He was not to be found by the most vigilant of the
officers who took the trail.
A month after the robbery, Gen. Cook received a letter from Mr. Fargo,
president of the express company, giving a description of the robber,
renewing his offer of a reward of $800 for his apprehension, and saying
there were reasons to believe that Bemis had come to Denver. The principal
reason urged was that Bemis had a cousin here, whose name was given.
The case was placed in the hands of Detective Arnold by Gen. Cook, who was
relied upon to do his best work on it. Mr. Arnold worked a long time
without a clue. The hotel registers for a month back were scanned with
the keenest scrutiny. They were dumb. Not a shadow of a clue was
presented. No one going by the name of Bemis had registered at any of the
hotels since the time of the robbery. The cousin was sought out and
skilfully pumped. He knew nothing, or professed to know nothing, of his
relative. He declared that the young man had not been in Denver to his
knowledge. This to Mr. Arnold. But Arnold soon came to the conclusion that
he was not the best man to talk with the cousin. Arnold is one of the men
who believe that there are more ways to accomplish a purpose than one. He
made himself acquainted with the associates of Bemis' cousin in Denver and
set some of them quietly after him. Not only the man's male friends, but
some of his female friends were set to work. This ruse was at last
successful. The cousin at last told one of these sub-detectives that his
cousin had been in Denver; that while here he had gone by the name of
James Walker, by which name he had registered at the American house, but
that he had taken his departure some time previous. The kinsman professed
to know nothing of the course Bemis had taken, leaving the detectives
almost as much in the dark as they were before.
Having the Denver name of the man, they were enabled to ascertain
something of his conduct while in Denver, to pick up information as to his
habits, and to get a minute description of him. They found that he had
been "one of the boys;" inclined to be a little loose and reckless, and
considerably addicted to card playing. While still looking about for
information as to the direction the man had taken, they received a note
one day from Mr. Nat Hickman, who at that time was a confidential agent of
the association, dated at Santa Fe, N. M., and telling them that there was
a young stranger in that city going by the name of John L. Jerome, whose
actions were quite mysterious. Hickman was a shrewd observer of human
nature. He knew of no charges against the man concerning whom he had
written to headquarters, but merely inferred from the fellow's conduct
that he was a fugitive from justice, and considered it probable that if he
was such, Gen. Cook would know something about him. After reading the
letter, Mr. Cook handed it over to Mr. Arnold, with the remark:
"There's your man."
To which Arnold replied, more forcibly than elegantly:
"Bemis, begad."
After taking some preliminary steps, such as the procuring of a
requisition for the arrest of the man, Arnold was off for Santa Fe. There
was no doubt of his identity after getting Hickman's description of the
party.
In those days a trip to Santa Fe was not so easily made as now. Trains ran
only to Trinidad, in Colorado, rendering it necessary that the traveler
should make the rest of the journey of over two hundred miles on stage
coach, which was not a very pleasant undertaking, considering that the
roads were bad; that almost the entire population was Mexican, and road
agents were both numerous and persistent. But these were obstacles which
did not stand in the way of the Rocky Mountain Detective Association. So
Mr. Arnold was off for Santa Fe, the ancient capital of New Mexico, in
search of John A. Bemis, _alias_ James Walker, _alias_ John L. Jerome.
The southward trip was devoid of incident. There was a long and hard ride.
Santa Fe was then further from Denver, considering the time necessary for
the trip, than Chicago, and the ride was a far more trying one. But Joe
Arnold is not very delicately organized, and he landed in Santa Fe "right
side up with care."
Arriving late in the evening, he went to the principal hotel--the
Exchange--and was soon in possession of evidence which made it absolutely
certain that the John L. Jerome, of Santa Fe, was the John A. Bemis, of
Syracuse. Arnold had registered as "W. F. Smith, Salt Lake City," that his
arrival might create no suspicion in Bemis' mind in case he should glance
over the hotel register.
Being sure of the presence of his man, Mr. Arnold next went to work to
find the governor, and to get him to honor his requisition. This was a
work which consumed a greater part of the night after Arnold's arrival,
and morning came on soon after he had finished the preparation for the
arrest. Having everything in readiness to spring his trap, he set out
to find his game. It began now to look as if the detective had had all his
trouble for nothing. He waited patiently about the hotel for Bemis to put
in an appearance. He watched the breakfast hall carefully, supposing that
his man would come in to get something to eat. Breakfast finally being
over, Arnold wandered about the town during the forenoon, with the hope of
getting a glimpse of his man. But his vigilance was not rewarded by the
least trace of him. He was not to be seen anywhere. Going back to the
hotel when the dinner hour approached, he again kept close watch upon the
dining room. This time, as before, no Bemis made his appearance. Arnold
was beginning to fear that the fellow had spotted him and given him the
slip. But he resolved to put in the day in his search. Accordingly his
investigations were continued during the afternoon. But still no Bemis.
[Illustration: T. JEFF. CARR, Cheyenne, Wyoming.]
The supper hour had come on and had nearly passed. Arnold had kept an
eagle eye upon the room. His man had not gone in. Finally he wandered into
the billiard hall, which was then but dimly lighted, and was unoccupied
except by Arnold. Throwing himself down in a chair, the detective was
preparing for a little meditative spell to decide what course to pursue,
when a footstep fell upon his ear. Looking up he saw that a man had
entered the door opposite him. A second glance told him that the newcomer
was none other than Bemis. Sitting still until the stranger approached
quite close to him, Arnold then got up and advanced to meet the man,
speaking to him when he had approached very near him:
"Mr. Bemis, I believe?"
The man did not appear startled or especially confused. He seemed to have
been expecting to be overtaken.
"Bemis--yes, that's my name, and you are an officer come for me?"
Mr. Arnold told him that he had made a very good guess.
"I knew it. I am glad of it. I am ready and anxious to go with you. I want
to get out of this hole, and I am tired of skulking about. I would rather
a thousand times over go back home and meet all my old-time friends,
explain all to them and go to prison, than to go hiding about the country
all my life. I could not stand it much longer. So I am glad that you have
come. You need fear no resistance from me."
Arnold took his prisoner to his own room, where the fellow continued his
talk in the above strain for some time. It was not long before the
detective discovered another interesting feature of the story. In answer
to Arnold's inquiries as to where Bemis had been during the day, he stated
that when he had gone to Santa Fe he still retained the bulk of the money
which he had stolen, and believing that he had found a place to which
detective vigilance would not extend, he had decided to settle down and go
into business. He had determined to buy a cigar store, and had closed the
contract, nothing remaining to be done but to pay over the money. He had,
soon after going to his hotel, left his money for deposit in the safe, the
proprietor of the house being aware of the amount which he had. This same
individual, it seems, had become anxious to possess the roll himself, and
while he was not courageous enough to steal it outright, as Bemis had
done, he hit upon another plan, which was just as effectual and far more
safe. He had discovered Bemis' propensity for cards, and finding that the
money was about to slip out of his grasp into the hands of the then owner
of the cigar store, he proposed to Bemis that they have a quiet game of
poker.
Nothing was more to the liking of the Syracuse man. He was willing. These
two men and a pair of accomplices of the hotel proprietor were playing
poker while Arnold was getting his requisition papers into shape on the
night of his arrival. The game at first ran along very smoothly. There was
little excitement for a long while. There was plenty to drink, and there
was a supply of good cigars. The game appeared to be purely social. The
bets were small. There was a general good time, and the entire crowd
appeared to be quite "mellow" when the wee sma' hours came on. It was not
a matter of appearance with Bemis. He drank too much. Finding the young
man in good shape, his "friends" began to tighten the screws. They had
determined to get his money before the night should pass, and about 2
o'clock in the morning prepared to put their plans into execution.
It was the landlord's deal. As he pushed out the ante, one of his
accomplices said to Bemis:
"Go a dollar blind."
"All right," said the now thoroughly excited young man, and shoved out the
chip representing that amount.
The cards were dealt slowly. The first that fell to Bemis was an ace, and
a gleam of gratification passed over his face. His countenance fell as a
ten followed, but when another ten, and another, dropped, it was easily
seen how much pleasure he took in the contemplation of the little pieces
of cardboard. The landlord saw the blind and raised it five dollars. Bemis
followed with a raise of ten dollars, which was promptly responded to by a
raise of a like sum on the part of the landlord. Bemis raised it twenty
dollars, and the landlord simply covered the raise.
"I'll take two cards," said Bemis.
"That's about what I want, myself," responded the landlord.
The cards were dealt, and after a careless glance at the draw, Bemis laid
his hand down on the table and bet fifty dollars.
"I'll raise you fifty," was the response.
"That lets me out," said one of the other players.
"Here, too," said the second accomplice.
"See your fifty and go a hundred better," exclaimed Bemis.
"We'll play for two hundred," exclaimed the landlord.
Bemis was now thoroughly excited, and the bystanders, accustomed as they
were to high play, began to draw nearer to the contestants, and display an
unusual interest in the game.
"Will you stand a raise?" asked Bemis, with an air of confident good
humor.
"Try it and find out," replied the landlord, while a close observer could
not have failed to note the air of conscious triumph in his manner, so
outwardly imperturbable.
"I'll raise you five hundred dollars, then," said Bemis.
"I'll go you another five hundred," was the answer.
"See here," said Bemis; "I've got the boss hand, but I don't want to win
your money. I'll raise it a thousand dollars."
"I'll see that and raise it another thousand," came in the coolest terms
from his antagonist; but immediately added, as he remembered the fact that
Bemis' bets now covered nearly all his capital: "No, I won't either. It
would be robbery to keep on betting with you. I'll just call you."
"_Four Tens!_" called Bemis, stretching out his hand to take in the
stakes, with a smile.
"Hold on a minute," exclaimed the landlord. "That's a boss hand,
ordinarily, but it don't win this time;" and he laid down four kings.
"_Four Kings!_" exclaimed Bemis. "My God!"
Thus Bemis, a fugitive from justice and a long way from home, was "dead
broke." The game was abruptly ended. He had no more money, could borrow
none, and must quit. He wandered out into the dark shadows of the adobe
houses, and the thoughts which came to him were quite strong enough to
sober him off. Here was, indeed, a pretty kettle of fish, and Bemis told
Arnold that so great was his anguish that he had almost determined to free
himself from it by committing suicide. Better counsel, however, prevailed,
and he decided not only not to take his own life, but to make an effort to
get back home, and when once arrived there, to surrender himself to the
authorities.
He went to the hotel determined to go to bed and try to sleep the
remainder of the night. But he was met at the counter by a refusal on the
part of the clerk to turn over the keys of his room. He was then informed
that he had not paid his bill, and that as he had no money he could get no
further accommodations there. Thus was he robbed and turned loose
penniless and to be persecuted by the man who had robbed him. He spent the
remainder of the night walking about and thinking over his situation. He
had not gone to the hotel for breakfast, because he had been forbidden to
again enter the house. For the same reason he had gone without his dinner;
but finding himself very hungry when supper time came on, he had decided
to make an effort to steal in and get something to eat. This resolve he
was trying to put into execution when he met Arnold and was arrested.
The fellow was really suffering from a fear that his life was not safe. In
those days they could arrest and imprison a man for debt in New Mexico. He
was satisfied that his late "host" would be only too glad to dispose of
him in that way to get his mouth closed, and so informed Arnold.
Of course the officer promised every protection, and the promise had
hardly been made before he was afforded an opportunity to fulfill it. The
door of the room had been locked by the officer when he had entered with
his prisoner. The story above related had hardly been finished when there
came a loud rap on the door, in response to which Arnold demanded to know
who was there.
"The proprietor of the house," was the response.
"What do you want?"
"I want Jerome," giving the name by which Bemis had gone in Santa Fe.
"Well, you can't have him."
A long parley ensued, but Arnold steadfastly declined to allow the hotel
man to enter or to surrender Bemis to him. The fellow went away swearing
vengeance. When he was well gone, Arnold began barring the door more
securely than had been done before, and handing Bemis a pistol, told him
to defend himself with it in case it should become necessary for him to do
so, saying as he did so:
"He will come back with reinforcements, and if they get you I would not
give much for your hide."
Sure enough, the man did return, and with a body of men. They began to
pound upon the door, but were met by Arnold with the assurance that the
first man that entered would be shot down in his tracks. This defiance had
the effect of cooling the ardor of the besiegers. They remained about the
door all night, however, so that Arnold and Bemis were compelled to remain
awake with their weapons in hand during the long night that followed, for
it was a long night to both of them. Both had been exposed to great
hardships and were fatigued. Arnold had been a night in the stage coming
down. The next night he had devoted to his papers. Bemis' experience has
been described. But they had another night before them, and nothing was
left to them but to make the best of it.
At last morning came. The stage was to start a 6 o'clock. They must get
off on that stage or all was lost. Accordingly a few minutes before 6 the
two men unbarred the door of their prison and walked out with their
pistols in their hands.
The besiegers had disappeared. The stage was in waiting near the hotel.
Arnold and his prisoner jumped in. As they did so, the landlord came up,
and as he demanded his pay, struck at Bemis.
The stage driver had seen the row coming on, and having exclaimed,
"Jerusalem! it's after 6, and I am off!" had made a sudden start, which
left the irate poker player standing alone, while Arnold and his prisoner
were off for Denver.
This was a triumph, to be sure, but all was not yet over. The stage passed
rapidly on to Las Vegas without incident. Arriving at that place it was
stopped by a well-armed Mexican, who was followed by a dozen determined
looking fellows, all evidently well heeled. Arnold had taken a seat by the
driver's side. The Mexican stated that he was the sheriff of the county,
and said he had received a dispatch from Santa Fe, directing him to arrest
one John Jerome, who was on the stage in charge of an officer named Smith,
from Salt Lake City, on a capias. Arnold at once came to the front, and
making himself spokesman for the stage party passed the question around to
every passenger on the coach:
"Is your name Smith?" "Your name Jerome?" etc.
All answered no. "Must be a mistake," said Joe. "My name is Arnold; I am
an officer from Denver, and I have a prisoner here named Bemis, but of
course we are not the people you want." He then showed his papers, which
confirmed his statement.
"Oh, naw," replied the sheriff in broken English; "ve vant Smeet--no vant
you."
Mr. Arnold then volunteered the information that he had heard in Santa Fe
of some trouble of the character described about a prisoner, but thought
it probable that the fellow had evaded the officers and would be along on
the next coach, which the sheriff also considered a plausible theory, and
allowed Arnold and Bemis to pass on. The reader will see that the wrong
names had been telegraphed. The Santa Fe officials had consulted the hotel
register and not the territorial books for the names.
At Cimarron, the next station of importance, Arnold expected to have
trouble, and determined to avoid it this time by not meeting it.
Consequently he bought a quart bottle of whisky at Rayada, a few miles
south of Cimarron, and presenting it to the driver, got off the coach with
Bemis before the town was reached, requesting the driver in case they were
asked for to state that they had left the coach, and promising to join the
stage after the town should be passed. The Jehu promised compliance, but
there was no demand for either the officer or his man. They jumped the
coach per agreement, and were landed in Trinidad without further incident.
Bemis was sent back to Syracuse, where he pleaded guilty and threw himself
upon the mercy of the court. Even the express company officials pleaded
for clemency. Hence he was let off with a sentence of but eighteen months
in the penitentiary. He should long remember Detective Arnold as his best
friend.
A HORSE THIEF'S FOLLY.