discoveries, Mr. Pinkerton was further strengthened in his distrust of
the man Rogers; and although the local authorities, to whom he
revealed his suspicions, laughed at him, declaring that Rogers was one
of the most respectable citizens of the State, he resolved to attempt
an arrest. Proceeding to Rogers's house with all the force he could
command, he placed a guard at front and rear, and then, with a few
attendants, made his way inside. The first person he met was Mr.
Rogers himself, who affected to be very indignant at the intrusion.
"Who have you in this house?" asked Mr. Pinkerton.
"Nobody but my family," answered Mr. Rogers.
"We'll see about that," answered Mr. Pinkerton; and then, turning to
his men, he ordered them to search the premises.
They did so, and soon came upon the three strangers, who were taken so
completely by surprise that they made no effort at resistance. They
were about to sit down to breakfast, which was spread for them in the
kitchen. A comparison with photographs and descriptions left no doubt
that one of the three was Frank Reno. A second--a man of dark
complexion, tall, and well built--proved to be Albert Perkins, a
well-known member of the Reno gang. The third was none other than the
notorious Miles Ogle, the youngest member of the band, who afterward
came to be known as the most expert counterfeiter in the United
States. Ogle at this writing is in the Ohio penitentiary, serving his
third term of imprisonment. At his last capture there were found in
his possession some of the best counterfeit plates ever made.
While they were securing the four men the detectives noticed that
smoke was curling out of the kitchen stove, accompanied by a sudden
blaze. Mr. Pinkerton pulled off a lid, and found on the coals several
packages of bank-notes, already on fire. Fortunately the notes had
been so tightly wrapped together that only a few of them were
destroyed before the packages were got out. Those that remained were
afterward identified as of the money that had been stolen from the
Glenwood safe. There was thus no question that these were the robbers
so long sought for. A further search of the house brought to light two
sets of burglars' tools, which served as cumulative evidence.
The men were carried to Glenwood by the next train. They were met by a
great and excited crowd, and for a time were in danger of lynching.
Better counsel prevailed, however, and they were placed in the jail to
await trial.
With the men in secure, safe custody, there was no doubt of their
ultimate conviction; and every one was breathing easier at the thought
that at last the Reno gang was robbed of its terrors. Then
suddenly--no one will ever know how it happened--the prisoners made
their escape. Great was the surprise and chagrin of the sheriff of
Mills County when, on the morning of April 1, 1868, he entered the
jail, only to find their cells empty. A big hole sawed through the
wall told by what way they had made their exit. They left behind the
mocking salutation, "April Fool," scrawled in chalk over the floors
and walls of the jail.
A large reward was offered for the capture of the robbers, but nothing
was heard of them until two months later, when an express-car on the
Ohio and Mississippi Railroad was boarded at Marshfield, Indiana, by a
gang of masked men, and robbed of ninety-eight thousand dollars. The
messenger made a brave resistance, but could not cope with the
robbers, who lifted him bodily and hurled him out of the car, down a
steep embankment, while the train was running at high speed.
All the facts in the case pointed to the Reno brothers as the authors
of this outrage, for by frequent repetition their methods of robbery
had become familiar. Allan Pinkerton, furthermore, obtained precise
evidence that it was the work of the Renos from secret agents whom he
had stationed at Seymour to watch the doings of the gang. Two of these
agents engaged apparently in business at Seymour, one setting up as a
saloon-keeper in a rough part of the town, another taking railroad
employment, which kept him constantly near the station. A third made a
wide acquaintance by passing for a gambler and general good fellow. So
successful were they that Allan Pinkerton was soon in possession of
facts proving not only that the Marshfield robbery had been committed
by the Renos, but that another train robbery which followed was
executed by John Moore, Charles Gerroll, William Sparks, and three
others, all members of the Reno organization. Moore, Gerroll, and
Sparks were arrested shortly after, and placed on a train to be taken
from Seymour to Brownstown, the county-seat. But they never reached
their destination. As the train stopped at a small station some miles
from Brownstown, a band of masked men, well armed, rushed on board,
overpowered the officers, hurried the three outlaws away to a
neighboring farm-yard, and there strung them up to a beech-tree, while
an old German who owned the farm looked on approvingly.
This was the first act of retributive justice done by the Secret
Vigilance Committee of Southern Indiana, an organization as
extraordinary as the situation it was created to deal with. The entire
population of that part of Indiana seemed to have risen in
self-defense to crush out lawlessness. A second act followed several
days later, when three other men who had been concerned in the latest
train robbery, having been captured by the county officials, were
taken from their hands and condemned to the same fate as their
companions. Each one, as he was about to be swung off, was asked by
the maskers if he had anything to say. The first two shook their heads
sullenly, and died without speaking. The third, standing on a barrel
with the rope round his neck, looked over the crowd with contemptuous
bravado, and addressing them as a lot of "mossback Hoosiers," said he
was glad he was not of their class, and was proud to die as a good
Republican. The barrel was kicked away, the rope stiffened with his
weight, and there ended the career of the sixth member of the band.
Hard times followed for the surviving Renos. Realizing that their
power was broken, they fled in various directions. The three brothers,
Frank, William, and "Sim," though still at large, were not left long
to enjoy their liberty. A large price was placed on their heads, and
betrayal came quickly. William and "Sim" were arrested soon after, in
Indianapolis, and turned over to the local authorities, who, in order
to avoid the Vigilance Committee, took the prisoners to New Albany, in
an adjoining county, where they were placed in jail.
The Vigilance Committee, growing stronger and more determined every
day, now scoured the whole country for other members of the gang or
for persons believed to be in sympathy with it. They literally went on
the "war-path" through this whole region of Indiana, and it went ill
with any poor wretch who incurred their suspicion. Like the
"Whitecaps" of a later day, they sent warnings to all who came on
their black-list, and administered by night, and sometimes by day,
such promiscuous floggings and other forms of punishment that the
tough and criminal element of the region was entirely cowed, and
feared to raise a hand in defense of the Renos, as it had previously
done. Up to the time the Vigilance Committee was formed not a member
of the Reno gang had been convicted in that locality, largely because
the people were afraid to testify against them. They knew that if they
should testify, their stock would be killed, their barns burned, and
they themselves waylaid and beaten. This was the reason offered for
the formation of the Vigilance Committee of Southern Indiana. Whether
a justification or not, the committee must certainly be credited with
having rid the State of a monstrous evil.
In the excitement of other events the Pinkertons had not forgotten the
men who had escaped from the Glenwood jail. They finally traced Miles
Ogle and Albert Perkins to Indianapolis; and there Ogle was captured,
but Perkins escaped. Frank Reno was discovered a little later at
Windsor, Canada, where he was living with Charles Anderson, a
professional burglar, safe-blower, and "short-card" gambler, who had
fled to Canada to escape prosecution. Reno, operating with Anderson,
made a practice of registering as "Frank Going" if the enterprise in
which he was engaged was prospering, and as "Frank Coming" if it was
not prospering. He and Anderson were now arrested on a charge of
robbery and of assault with intent to kill, in the case of the express
messenger hurled from his car at Marshfield, Indiana. Under this form
their offense became extraditable; and after a long trial before the
stipendiary or government magistrate, Gilbert McMicken, at Windsor,
the men were ordered for extradition. Aided by the ablest lawyers,
they carried their case, however, to the highest court in Canada. But
the decision of the lower court was affirmed; and in October, 1868,
the men were surrendered into the hands of Allan Pinkerton, who was
delegated by the United States government to receive them. It was due
to the patience and persistence of Mr. Alfred Gaither, the Western
manager of the Adams Express Company, and his then assistant, Mr.
L.C. Weir, now president of the company, and to the general policy of
the company to permit no compromise with thieves, that, regardless of
cost and time, the prosecution was continued until it issued thus
successfully.
Michael Rogers was also discovered to be in Windsor at this time, and
he was known to have had a hand in the Marshfield robbery; but he
escaped arrest, and remained securely in Windsor for a year or two.
Later, though, he reached the penitentiary, being brought to grief by
a burglary done at Tolono, Illinois. On coming out, he joined the
notorious McCartney gang of counterfeiters, and had many narrow
escapes. The last known of him, grown an old man, he was living
quietly on a farm in Texas.
Made at last secure of Reno and Anderson, Allan Pinkerton chartered a
tug to carry them to Cleveland, and thus avoid the friends who, as he
had reason to know, were waiting across the river in Detroit to
effect a rescue. When the tug had gone about twenty miles, it was run
down by a large steamer and sunk, the passengers, including the
prisoners, being saved from drowning with the greatest difficulty. The
prisoners were carried on to Cleveland by another boat, and from there
were hurried on by rail to New Albany, where they were placed in jail
along with "Sim" and William Reno.
The final passage in the history of the Reno gang occurred about a
month later, in the latter part of November, 1868, when one day a
passenger-car was dropped off at Seymour, Indiana, some distance from
the station. There was nothing remarkable in this, nor did the car
attract any attention. That night a train passing through Seymour took
up the car and drew it away. A few people about the station when the
car was taken up remembered afterward that this car was filled with
strange-looking men, who wore Scotch caps and black cloth masks, and
seemed to be under the command of a tall, dark-haired man addressed by
every one as "No. 1." Although there were at least fifty of these men,
it is a remarkable fact, developed in a subsequent investigation, that
the conductor of the train could remember nothing about the incident,
declaring that he did not enter the car and knew nothing of its being
attached to his train. It is certain the company of masked men did
everything in their power to avoid attention, scarcely speaking to one
another during the ride and making all their movements as noiseless as
possible.
The train reached New Albany at two o'clock in the morning. The car
was detached, and was presently emptied of its fifty men as silently
and mysteriously as it had been filled. A few hurried commands were
given by "No. 1," and then the company marched in quiet order to the
jail. Arrived there, they summoned the jailer to open the doors, but
were met with a firm refusal and the shining barrel of a revolver.
There followed an exchange of shots, in which the sheriff received a
ball in the arm, and two local police officers were captured. Without
loss of time the jail doors were battered down; the company entered,
and taking the three Reno brothers and their friend, Charles Anderson,
from their cells, placed nooses that they had ready around the men's
necks, and hung them to the rafters in the corridors of the jail.
Then, having locked the doors of the jail, leaving the prisoners
secure, they made their way silently back to the New Albany station,
reaching there in time to catch the train that drew out at 3:30 A. M.
The same special car in which they had come was coupled to this train,
and dropped off at the switch when Seymour was reached. This was just
before daybreak on a dreary November morning.
Who these fifty men were was never discovered, although, because of
the fact that Reno and Anderson had been extradited from Great
Britain, the general government made an investigation. It was rumored,
however, and generally understood, that the company included some of
the most prominent people in Seymour, among others a number of
railroad and express employees. It was found that at the time of the
lynching all the telegraph wires leading from New Albany had been cut,
so that it was noon of the following day before the country learned of
it.
The newspapers described the leader of the party as a man of unusual
stature, who wore a handsome diamond ring on the little finger of his
right hand. Later some significance was attached to the fact that a
well-known railroad official who answered this description as to
stature and who had always worn a handsome diamond ring previous to
the lynching, ceased to wear his ring for several years afterward.
After the execution of her brothers, it was rumored that Laura Reno
had taken an oath to devote the rest of her life to avenging them; and
for a moment there were threats and mutterings of reprisals from
allies or surviving members of the gang. But these latter were not
heard again after a certain morning, the third day after the
execution, when the people of Seymour, on leaving their homes, were
startled to see on the walls and in other public places large posters
proclaiming that if any property was injured or destroyed, or any
persons molested or assaulted, or if there was any further talk in
regard to recent happenings, some twenty-five persons, therein frankly
named, who were known to be sympathizers with the Renos, or to be more
or less intimately connected with them, had better beware. And as for
the sister's deadly oath, she did no act in proof of the violent
intentions imputed to her, but instead subsequently became the wife of
a respectable man and settled down to a useful life, though a much
more commonplace one than she had previously known. John Reno, after
serving fifteen years in the Missouri penitentiary, was released, and
is said to be at present living on the old farm. "Clint" Reno, or
"Honest" Reno, always stayed at the old homestead, and has never been
willing to speak of his brothers or of what happened to them. Seymour,
purged of the evil influences that corrupted it, has grown into a
thriving and beautiful little city, and is to-day one of the model
towns of Indiana.
The American Exchange Bank Robbery
Late in the afternoon of Friday, May 4, 1888, two messengers left the
American Exchange National Bank, at the northeast corner of Cedar
Street and Broadway, New York City, and started down the busy
thoroughfare for the office of the Adams Express Company, a few blocks
distant. They carried between them, each holding one of the handles, a
valise made of canvas and leather, in which had just been placed, in
the presence of the paying-teller, a package containing forty-one
thousand dollars in greenbacks, to be transmitted to the United
States Treasury in Washington for redemption.
Although the messengers--Edward S. Crawford and old "Dominie"
Earle--were among the bank's most trusted employees, their honesty
being considered above suspicion, they were nevertheless followed at a
short distance by bank detective McDougal, an old-time police
detective, whose snow-white beard and ancient style of dress have long
made him a personage of note on Broadway. Detective McDougal followed
the messengers, not because he had any fear that they were planning a
robbery, but because it is an imperative rule of all great banking
institutions that the transfer of large sums of money, even for very
short distances, shall be watched over with the most scrupulous care.
Each messenger is supposed to act as a check on his fellow, while the
detective walking in the rear is a check on both. In such cases all
three men are armed, and would use their weapons without hesitation
should an attack be made upon them.
The messengers walked on through the hurrying crowd, keeping on the
east sidewalk as far as Wall Street, where they turned across, and
continued their way on the west sidewalk as far as the Adams Express
Company's building, which stands at No. 59 Broadway. Having seen them
safely inside the building, the detective turned back to the bank,
where his services were required in other matters.
Passing down the large room strewn with boxes and packages ready for
shipment, the two messengers turned to the right, and ascended the
winding stairs that in those days led to the money department, on the
second floor. No one paid much attention to them, as at this busy hour
bank messengers were arriving and departing every few minutes. Still,
some of the clerks remembered afterward, or thought they did, that
the old man, Earle, ascended the stairs more slowly than his more
active companion, who went ahead, carrying the valise alone. Both
messengers, however, were present at the receiving-window of the money
department when the package was taken from the valise and handed to
the clerk, who gave a receipt for it in the usual form: "Received from
the American Exchange Bank one package marked as containing forty-one
thousand dollars, for transfer to Washington"; or, at least, so far as
has ever been proved, both messengers were present when the package
was handed in.
The two messengers, having performed their duty, went away, Earle
hurrying to the ferry to catch a train out into New Jersey, where he
lived, and Crawford returning to the bank with the empty valise. The
valuable package had meantime been ranged behind the heavily wired
grating along with dozens of others, some of them containing much
larger sums. The clerks in the money department of the Adams Express
Company become so accustomed to handling gold, silver, and bank-notes,
fortunes done up in bags, boxes, or bundles, that they think little
more of this precious merchandise than they might of so much coal or
bricks. A quick glance, a touch of the hand, satisfies them that the
seals, the wrappings, the labels, the general appearance, of the
packages are correct; and having entered them duly on the way-bills
and turned them over to the express messenger who is to forward them
to their destination, they think no more about them.
In this instance the forty-one-thousand-dollar package, after a brief
delay, was locked in one of the small portable safes, a score of which
are always lying about in readiness, and was lowered to the basement,
where it was loaded on one of the company's wagons. The wagon was then
driven to Jersey City, guarded by the messenger in charge, his
assistant, and the driver, all three men being armed, and was safely
placed aboard the night express for Washington. It is the company's
rule that the messenger who starts with a through safe travels with it
to its destination, though he has to make a journey of a thousand
miles. Sometimes the destination of money under transfer is so remote
that the service of several express companies is required; and in that
case the messenger of the Adams Company accompanies the money only to
the point where it is delivered to the messenger of the next company,
and so on.
The next morning, when the package from the American Exchange Bank was
delivered in Washington, the experienced Treasury clerk who received
it perceived at once, from the condition of the package, that
something was wrong. Employees of the Treasury Department seem to gain
a new sense, and to be able to distinguish bank-notes from ordinary
paper merely by the "feel," even when done up in bundles. Looking at
the label mark of forty-one thousand dollars, the clerk shook his
head, and called the United States Treasurer, James W. Hyatt, who also
saw something suspicious in the package. Mr. Blanchard, the Washington
agent of the Adams Express Company, was summoned, and in his presence
the package was opened. It was found to contain nothing more valuable
than slips of brown straw paper, the coarse variety used by butchers
in wrapping up meat, neatly cut to the size of bank-notes. The
forty-one thousand dollars were missing.
It was evident that at some point between the bank and the Treasury a
bogus package had been substituted for the genuine one. The question
was, Where and by whom had the substitution been made?
The robbery was discovered at the Treasury in Washington on Saturday
morning. The news was telegraphed to New York immediately, and on
Saturday afternoon anxious councils were held by the officials of the
American Exchange Bank and the Adams Express Company. Inspector Byrnes
was notified; the Pinkerton Agency was notified; and urgent despatches
were sent to Mr. John Hoey, president of the express company, and to
Robert Pinkerton, who were both out of town, that their presence was
required immediately in New York. Meanwhile every one who had had any
connection with the stolen package--the paying-teller of the bank,
other bank clerks, the messengers, detective McDougal, the
receiving-clerks of the Adams Express Company, and the express
messenger--was closely examined. Where and how the forty-one thousand
dollars had been stolen was important to learn not only in itself, but
also to fix responsibility for the sum lost as between the bank and
the express company.
Three theories were at once suggested: the bogus package might have
been substituted for the genuine one either at the bank, between the
bank and the express office, or between the express office and the
Treasury. The first assumption threw suspicion on some of the bank
employees, the second upon the two bank messengers, the third upon
some one in the service of the express company. Both the bank and the
express company stoutly maintained the integrity of its own employees.
An examination of the bogus package disclosed some points of
significance. Ordinarily, when bank-notes are done up for shipment by
an experienced clerk, the bills are pressed together as tightly as
possible in small bundles, which are secured with elastic bands, and
then wrapped snugly in strong paper, until the whole makes a package
almost as hard as a board. Around this package the clerk knots strong
twine, melts a drop of sealing-wax over each knot, and stamps it with
the bank's seal. The finished package thus presents a neat and trim
appearance. But in the present instance the package received at the
Treasury was loosely and slovenly wrapped, and the seals seemed to
have been put on either in great haste or by an inexperienced hand.
Moreover, the label must have been cut from the stolen package and
pasted on the other, for the brown paper of a previous wrapping showed
plainly in a margin running around the label. The address on the
package read:
"$41,000.
"United States Treasurer,
"Washington,
"D. C."
All this was printed, except the figures "41,000," even the
dollar-sign. The figures were in the writing of Mr. Watson, the
paying-teller of the bank, whose business it was to oversee the
sending of the money. His initials were also marked on the label, with
the date of the sending; so that on examining the label Mr. Watson
himself was positive that it was genuine.