IN IDAHO WITH DYNAMITERS--A COWBOY OPERATION IN THE BAD LANDS OF SOUTH
DAKOTA--I RESIGN FROM THE DICKENSON AGENCY.
During the first half of 1907 I led an easy life, with nothing to do
but keep old Colts 45 well oiled for dynamiters and assassins.
I had to accompany that greatest of all detectives, James McCartney,
who broke up the Molly Maguire gang--hanging twenty-three and sending
thirty-two to the penitentiary--wherever he went. But during these
noted trials McCartney would remain at his hotel, or visit with
friends, while I helped guard Harry Orchard, the star witness for
the prosecution. His life was too valuable to take chances on his
assassination.
Orchard made a splendid witness at the different trials in Idaho. Thus
did he make partial amends to society for the twenty-six men he helped
to murder.
In summing up the Orchard evidence the judge on the bench, Fremont
Wood, said he certainly told the truth, as no man could tell the same
story at different times and not get mixed up in his statements; more
so, under the cross-questioning of such able lawyers as Darrow and
Richardson. Furthermore most of Orchard’s testimony was corroborated by
telegrams, letters and reliable witnesses.
At the windup Albert E. Horsley, alias Harry Orchard, was convicted
for the murder of ex-Governor Steunenburg and sentenced to death. But
shortly after, the death sentence was changed to life imprisonment,
which was certainly just. In fact he should be put under parole and
given his liberty. I would willingly stake my life that he has had a
change of heart since that guiding angel, Geo. A. Pettibone, of the
Western Federation of Miners, drilled him in the art of manufacturing
bombs and exploding them. For according to the evidence it was this
drill-master and his pupil who set the bomb for Judge Gabbert, of
Denver, and blew the poor stranger, who picked up the pocketbook,
into fragments. The pupil placed the bomb and pocketbook while the
instructor looked on from a distance of two city blocks.
The State of Idaho, through her leading attorneys, Senator W. E. Borah
and James H. Hawley, secured two “gun-men” to help guard Orchard when
taken from behind the penitentiary walls. Their names were Bob Meldrum
and R. Barthell; Meldrum being the man-killing town marshal of Dixon,
Wyoming, at the time Jim F. of “Wild Bunch” fame, and I took in that
burg.
When Mr. McCartney introduced us in Boise under my own name it was
comical to see Meldrum’s surprise. He remarked that he had met me as
Harry Blevins, in Dixon, Wyoming.
Since our meeting in Boise, Meldrum has added to his record as a
killer, by shooting a man in Telluride, Colo.
During the summer, in Boise, Idaho, I had a few years added to my life
through the meeting of that great actress--Miss Ethel Barrymore.
This beautiful young actress was dying to see Harry Orchard before
returning East. But no one except court officials and his guards were
allowed to see him, by strict orders from Governor Gooding.
Miss Barrymore had already pled with the governor, so I was told, but
his heart was like a chunk of chilled steel. Then some one suggested
that I might help her out. Just one smile and a “good-fellow”
handshake, and she had me kneeling at her feet, figuratively
speaking. I informed her that my hands were tied without the consent
of Mr. McCartney but that if she would act her part according to my
instructions we could get his consent. She agreed.
I had learned that all men, no matter how old, have a weak spring in
their makeup which can be snapped asunder by fair women, if they only
go at it right. Of course I hated to put up a “job” on Mr. McCartney,
but who wouldn’t to make a pretty girl happy.
Mr. Gifford Pinchot, Chief of the United States Forest Service, was
also anxious to see Orchard, therefore he accompanied Miss Barrymore
and me to Mr. McCartney’s private reception room. Mr. S. S. McClure, of
the McClure Magazine, and the wife of the principal owner of the Idaho
Statesman, Mrs. Calvin Cobb, also went along.
On introducing Miss Barrymore I started the ball to rolling by telling
Mr. McCartney that I had assured the lady that he would not deny her
request.
The play started when the young actress moved her chair close up to the
gentleman, so that she could look him in the face.
When the one-act drama was over we all started in a carriage for the
penitentiary. Mr. McCartney had given me orders to let the lady see
Orchard, but under no condition to let her speak to him. That was
sufficient, as all I wanted was an entering wedge.
On reaching the penitentiary I had warden Whitney bring Orchard from
his steel cell to the warden’s private office. Then I turned the
natural born actress loose in the room with this star dynamiter, and
she talked with him to her heart’s content.
And I was repaid for all my trouble by having Miss Barrymore ’phone me
after midnight to be at her train and say goodby. This I did, and her
happy smile and warm handshake lingers with me to this day--nearly two
years later.
During the Steve Adams trial in Wallace, Idaho, which terminated in a
hung jury--that being no surprise, considering the large slush fund
put up by the Western Federation of Miners to save his neck--I had the
pleasure of visiting Gem where I made my getaway by sawing through the
floor. Mr. McCartney’s private secretary, Robt. Shollenbeger, went with
me on horseback.
We saw bullet holes through old walls as reminders of those exciting
times in 1892. I recognized many old landmarks--but only one live one
in the person of Dan Harrington and his flowing grey beard.
[Illustration: JAS. MCCARTNEY AND THE AUTHOR.]
On leaving Wallace and the Coeur D’Alene country we stopped for a few
days in Spokane, Wash. We were accompanied by that whole-soul honest
man, ex-sheriff Harvey K. Brown of Baker City, Oregon. But the poor
fellow soon after met the same fate as ex-Governor Steunenburg, and in
the same manner, a bomb being placed at his residence gate. Here is
Brown’s dying statement, as copied from the Denver Post of October 2,
1907:
“BAKER CITY, OREGON, Oct. 2.
Harvey K. Brown, ex-sheriff of Baker county, died yesterday afternoon
as the result of the horrible wounds he received from the explosion
of a bomb at his front gate as he entered his home Monday night.
Shortly before noon he recovered consciousness and his ante-mortem
statement was taken by the district attorney. It follows:
“‘I was on my way home from up town when I met a man in front of a
residence a block from my house, and spoke. The man made no reply.
This man was about five feet ten inches tall, his weight about 165
pounds. He wore a brown suit and a celluloid collar and was clean
shaven. I have been conscious of having been followed for the past
three weeks, and have no doubt that those who attempted my life are
persons connected with the Western Federation of Miners, and that I
was marked for death on account of the Steunenburg and Steve Adams
cases.’”
This illustrates the danger of being an important witness against that
bloodthirsty dynamiting bunch, who some well-meaning people believe are
angels.
Another prince of a good fellow blown up with dynamite, but not killed,
soon after giving his testimony against this “noble order” was Mr.
Bulkley Wells, manager and part owner of a rich mine in Telluride,
Colo., the former manager of this mine, Mr. Arthur Collins, being shot
and killed through a window by that villain, Steve Adams, according to
his own, and Orchard’s, sworn confession.
We have been expecting to hear of the assassination of Governor Frank
Gooding, as his life has been threatened more than any one else, unless
it is ex-Governor Jas. H. Peabody of Colorado, who has escaped two
attempts at assassination.
All law-loving citizens should adore the names of these two governors
who did their duty in the face of hourly danger. This dynamiting
brigade had, no doubt, figured that the blowing up of ex-Governor
Steunenburg would put the fear of death in the hearts of other
officials who believed in law and order. But they didn’t reckon on that
noble trait implanted in the breasts of some men which defies death,
and even torture, when it comes to sacrificing principle and justice.
When the trial of Haywood, secretary and treasurer of the Western
Federation was ended, and Mr. McCartney and I were back in Denver,
Colorado, I resigned from the Dickenson Agency to try the “Simple Life”
on my Sunny Slope ranch at Santa Fe, New Mexico.
I had not been out of the agency long when I was requested, by Mr.
James McCartney, to undertake a cowboy operation up in the Bad Lands of
South Dakota. Members of the South Dakota Stock Growers’ Association,
Mr. James Craig being president, and Mr. Frank Stewart secretary, were
short thousands of steers and could not figure out what had become of
them. Hence I was sent up there to unravel the mystery.
I spent the fall and winter in South Dakota working on cattlemen,
cowboys and Indians. Much of my work being on the Pine Ridge and
Rosebud Indian Reservations.
My reports showed where thousands of steers had been stolen and
butchered, the year previous to my arrival, to furnish beef for the
grading crews of the two new railroads, the Milwaukee and St. Paul, and
the Northwestern, building west through that country.
Some of my cowboy chums, on whom I worked, had become well fixed
financially by butchering these cattle. Most of the stealing was done
through half-breed Indians who lived on the reservations.
Much of my time was spent in Rapid City, Interior Kadoka, Wasta and
the White Owl country. My name was Chas. Tony Lloyd. I experienced
some hardships from the terrible blizzards which rage in that country
during the winters. On closing the operation in the White Owl Country
I had to ride in a cold blizzard for over one hundred miles, with snow
belly-deep to a horse, in places, to the railroad town of Wasta.
I was indeed glad to get back and bask in the warm sunshine of New
Mexico, and to be with my pets, Eat ’Em Up Jake and Rowdy, my favorite
saddle stallion, the offspring of Lulu; also Miss Pussy-cat, who has a
history in connection with the “Wild Bunch;” she having been given to
me when a wee kitten up in Ft. Steel, Wyoming, by cowboy Charlie Ivey,
who little dreamed that this supposed Harry Blevins had once been a
cowboy companion of his, in the early-day cattle business of Texas.
Mr. Geo. S. Tweedy, who was in charge of my ranch, had cared for my
pets during my absence.
Now, dear reader, in closing my twenty-two years of experience in
studying human nature, let me say that I have come to the conclusion
that there is more good than bad in mankind. I believe most of the
viciousness in man could be smothered by doing away with liquor and
greed for the almighty dollar. For through these great evils I have
seen bitter tears enough wrung from the eyes of men, women and children
to float a washtub.
Saloon men should not be condemned for the liquor evil, for there
are good, pure-hearted men among them. They are conducting a lawful
business so long as they pay a license to the government. The people as
a whole are to blame for not putting a stop to it by law; and at the
same time establish poor men’s club rooms to take the place of saloons,
which are a blessing to a cold and hungry stranger when he lands in a
town broke. Good men sometimes run short of cash and cannot pay for
lodging in a warm hotel. Then is when the saloon is a godsend.
Every greedy old “Money-bag” in the land should be sat down on hard. I
would be in favor of screwing his hands to a long-handle shovel, or a
heavy wheel-barrow, for months at a time, to let him know how it feels
to work ten hours a day to keep body and soul together, while such
as he do nothing but gloat over gold, and wring the life-blood from
humanity.
It is a great pity that old Father Time and Mother Nature cannot get
married and start a new breed of cattle, with cows giving a large flow
of the milk of human kindness. For then we would have something to feed
to greedy capitalists and bloodthirsty labor union agitators.
Had I the power our glorious American flag would be constantly waving
over every school house in this fair land. On one side would be printed
in large letters of gold:
Down with liquor, cruelty and greed; up with manhood, kindness and
virtue.
And on the other side:
Preservation of noble thoughts and deeds, for the upbuilding of ideal
man.
In bidding you adieu I ask if the world has been benefited by my having
lived in it? I answer, yes. For have I not planted trees and grass on
a sun-kissed desert at the end of the old Santa Fe Trail--at the very
spot where once grazed the tired oxen and mules after their journey
across the plains?
The bible says he who makes two blades of grass to grow where only one
grew before has benefited mankind. And that hits Yours Truly.
THE END.
Transcriber’s Notes.
Italic text is indicated with _underscores_, bold text with =equals=.
Small/mixed capitals have been replaced with ALL CAPITALS.
Evident typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected
silently. Inconsistent hyphenation has been normalised.
Half-titles and title re-iterations have been omitted from front
matter.
Initially blocked by “Pinkertons’s”, this book was subsequently
published with a number of name changes (See Preface.)
For example:-
Dickenson for Pinkerton
McCartney for McParland
Corn for Horn
Silcox for Wilcox (the location)
Sayers for Sayles
Zillman for Hillman
Murray for Curran
Prinz & Pelling for Price & Peltier
Both versions may be encountered in the text.
Generally, the author’s spelling has been retained, but the following
corrections are noted.
“Cœur” on the title page has been amended to “Coeur” to match other
mentions in the text.
“Lockredge” has been corrected to “Lockridge” in the list of
illustrations and the associated caption.
Page 143 “Burke” corrected to “Burk” (Burk was Jammed).
Page 225 Two references to “Muirr Glacier” corrected to “Muir”.
Page 516 “McCartland” corrected to “McCartney”.
Page 511 “Molly McGuire” corrected to “Maguire”
The Author uses “Colt’s 45” and “Colts 45” - both retained.
Jersey Lilie (ToC chapter XII) has been amended to Jersey Lillie
(Lillie Langtree) to match the single reference in the text (chapter
XX). But note that chapter XII refers only to “Kansas Daisy”.