LAYING OUT THE WORK.

Between the 23rd of August and the 5th of September a company of strangers made their appearance at different localities in the State of Minnesota attracting attention by their peculiar bearing, remarkable physique, and decidedly southern phraseology. They would appear sometimes in pairs, and at other times there would be as many as four or five in company. At one time they would be cattle dealers from Texas, and again they were gentlemen in search of unimproved lands for speculative purposes, and then again they were a party of engineers and surveyors prospecting for a new railroad when they would make enquires about roads, swamps, lakes and timber lands, carefully consulting maps they had with them (published at 66 Lake Street, Chicago, 1876), and when opportunity offered Andreas' State Atlas of Minnesota. These men visited St. Paul, Minneapolis, St. Peter, Red Wing, St. James, Madelia, Garden City, Lake Crystal, Mankato, Janesville, Cordova, Millersburg, Waterville, and Northfield, putting up at the best hotels, spending their money freely, and creating a general impression of free handed liberality. But there was a certain air of audacity blended with their sangfroid and easy manners which led men to think they were no ordinary persons and aroused speculations as to their true character and vocation. The registers of the hotels honored by these guests bear the names of King, Ward, Huddleston, &c., generally written in one line, but subsequent developments prove these to be merely nommes de guerre.

On Saturday, Sept. 3rd and Sunday five of these strangers were in Mankato, and attracted universal attention by their peculiar carriage, suave manners, and fine, almost distingue appearance. They were [pg 4] well dressed and rode good horses, and sat their horses like men who were bred to the saddle. They made several purchases in the town, and one of them visited the City Bank and obtained change for a fifty dollar bill. When riding through the streets they showed their excellent horsemanship with a great amount of display and swagger entering into conversation with several citizens upon the merits of the animals they rode. They did not all stay at the same hotel, two of them registering at the well known and justly celebrated Clifton House while two others stopped at the Gates House, but it is not known where the fifth man put up. Two of the men, however, spent most of the night on the Sunday at a low brothel kept by the notorious character Jack O'Niel. This foul den of infamy is just outside the city limits on the opposite bank of the Minnesota river, and is surrounded by heavy timber. A more fitting place for a thieves' rendezvous, and for hatching plots or dark deeds, could hardly be imagined. It should be stated here, that after the visit of the two strangers, Jack O'Neil went to the Sheriff of Mankato and informed him that three young men—living in Mankato were plotting at his house to rob and probably murder an old man supposed to be possessed of considerable wealth, and residing at Vernon, some eighteen miles from Mankato. He made arrangements for the sheriff to overhear their conversation which resulted in the arrest of three young rowdies, Mark Ingals, George Peabody and James Quane, who were frequenters of O'Neil's infamous den.

A MURDER PLANNED.

It appears that an old man named Gallager, living in a log cabin on the skirts of the woods surrounding Vernon, was supposed to have in his possession a considerable sum of money. The old gentleman lived alone, was known for his parsimony, and thought to be “a penurious niggard of his wealth.” The plan of these young villians was to go to the house of the supposed miser, disguised, pretend to be “lost chicken hunters in the woods,” and induce the old man to come out and show the way. Getting him into the woods they were to extort from him by threats the whereabouts of his supposed hidden treasure, if threats failed, they were to have recourse to torture, and that failing to murder!

O'Neil accompanied these scoundrels reaching the house of Gallagher about 2 o'clock. They enticed the old man out a la programme, one placing himself on each side of him the two others bringing up the rear. After getting some little distance from the house, and as they were passing a shed the one walking behind with O'Neil raised his fist armed with brass “knuckle dusters,” and was about to deal the old man a stunning blow on the head, when he was seized by the Sheriff, who was lying in ambush within the shed. The three were conveyed to Mankato jail and locked up, and subsequently committed for trial upon the evidence of Jack O'Neil and the Sheriff. There are [pg 5] those who think the whale affair was a “put up job” by the notorious Jack to get rid of the three men who were in his way, and this occurred an the morning of Tuesday, the 7th of September.

JESSE JAMES RECOGNIZED.

Returning to the five strange men in Mankato, they are next seen on the streets on Monday morning when a young man, Chas. Robinson who was acquainted with the notorious Jesse James, went up to one of them and remarked, “How do you do, Jesse, what brings you up this way.” When the man addressed eyeing the speaker keenly from head to foot, replied, “I guess you have mistaken your man” and vaulting into the saddle, galloped away. With this incident, the five men who had attracted so much notice, excited so much admiration, and aroused many vague suspicions, disappeared from Mankato. The same day five similarly dressed, similarly mounted, and similarly appearing, strangers, arrived in Janesville, a village, on the Winona & St. Peter railroad, in Waseca county, about 18 miles from Mankato. As at Mankato they stopped at different hotels, two slaying at the Johnson house, and two at the Farmers' Home. No one know where the fifth slept, but on leaving the village on the Tuesday morning they halted some little distance out, and one, taking off his duster, rode back toward the village waving it over his head; he was followed in the maneuver by another when all four rode away. It is thought this was a signal for the fifth man, who, it is supposed, stopped at some house in the neighborhood.

Those, who stopped at the Johnson house, never made their appearance at the public table until all of the rest of the boarders had finished their meals, and during their stay in the town declined to admit a chambermaid to their room to arrange it. After their departure several packs of playing cards were found in their room torn up and thrown on the floor, and several handful of buttons of various sizes were scattered about, showing that the inmates had been indulging in a protracted game of “poker.” The girls who waited on them at table, say they were quiet and polite, and never made any trouble.

Cordova is the next place these “gay cavaliers” turn up, all five of them staying at the same hotel, three occupying one room, and two another with a commercial traveler, W. W. Barlow, of Delavan, Wis., who describes them as polite, jocose fellows. They talked considerably of cattle, and from their language and peculiar dialect, Mr. Barlow thought them to be cattle dealers from the south. They left the hotel at 7 o'clock in the morning, politely raising their hats as they rode off. Cordova is about eighteen miles, almost directly north from Janesville.

The next night, Wednesday, saw these five men housed at Millersburg, about twenty-four miles west and north of Cordova, in Rice county. They left here at an early hour on Tuesday morning, and at [pg 6] about 10 o'clock appeared in the streets of Northfield, which lies about eleven miles north-west of the latter village.

On the same Wednesday evening, four men who answered the description of some of the bandits stopped at a hotel in Cannon City. The landlord thinks they were Bob Younger, Bill Chadwell, and the two men who finally escaped. He says that the next morning, the 7th, while three of the men were at breakfast, one retired to his room and remained a long time with the door locked. After all had departed, the chambermaid discovered a bloody shirt and a portion of a pair of drawers, one leg of the latter being torn off and carried away. The drawers were soiled with blood and matter, such as would come from an old inflamed gun wound, and it was evident that the wearer had such a wound on one of his legs. This is considered evidence that the man arrested in Missouri, in October, and supposed to have been one of the James brothers, was really him, but the alibi proved by that party appears to be sufficient to prove that it was not.

It will be seen by the foregoing that there were originally nine men engaged in the plot, which gives plausibility to the opinion held by many that the terrible tragedy which followed was the result of a plan conceived by some Minnesota desperadoes, who engaged these desperate southern cut-throats to assist in it.

NORTHFIELD

is a thriving, pretty, little village, situated pleasantly upon both banks of the Cannon river just thirty-nine miles from St. Paul, in Rice county, on the St. Paul and Milwaukee railroad. A neat iron bridge unites the northwest and the southeast sides of the town, and just above the bridge is one of the finest mill races in the State, the water in its incessant flow roaring like the ocean and appearing like a minature Niagara. There is a large flouring mill on either side of the river belonging to Messrs. Ames & Co. The public buildings are not surpassed in the State for their beauty of design and adaptability of construction, and the Carlton college is another institution of which the town may well be proud. Placed as it is in the center of a rich farming district, the citizens are considered well-to-do, and the bank transacts a large business.

The five strangers appeared on the streets at an early hour of the morning of September 7th, and attracted a great deal of notice from the citizens, some of them recognizing two of the men as a party who visited the village about a week before, stopping at the Dampier House.

At about 11 o'clock two of these horsemen drew up at Jeft's restaurant on the northeast side of the river and asked for dinner. Jeft told them he had nothing ready, but could cook them some eggs and ham. The men told him to do so, ordering four eggs each. Their horses were left standing untied at the back of the premises. After [pg 7] ordering their dinner the two men went out into the street and after some time returned, when they were joined by three others and all sat down to their meal. They entered into familiar discourse with the proprietor of the house, and asked him what was the prospect of the forthcoming Presidential election. Jeft's reply was that he took no interest in politics, when one of the men offered to bet him $1,000 that the State would go Democratic. They still chatted on and seemed to be waiting for some one. At length they left and mounted their horses which were a sorrel, a cream color with silver tail and mane, a black, a bay, and a brown, all fine animals, sleek and clean limbed, and showing indications of blood. After leaving the restaurant, the five horsemen crossed over the bridge, two remaining in bridge square and the other three, riding up to Division street dismounted, and tied their horses to the posts at the side of the Scriver block. They then sauntered up toward bridge square, and after talking for some few moments leaning against a dry goods box in front of Lee & Hitchcock's store (Scriver block,) they walked back toward the bank which they entered. Three other horsemen then came upon the scene and commenced at once to ride up and down the street in dashing style, and calling upon the citizens who from their doors were watching the eccentric proceeding, to get back into their houses, commenced firing pistols in the air with immense rapidity.

Greater confusion could not be imagined than now ensued. Wherever persons were seen upon the street, a horseman would dash up to them in full speed, and pointing a long barrelled glittering pistol at their heads order them to “get in you G—d—s—of a b.” The streets were cleared in a few moments and stores were closed in quicker time than it takes to tell it.

But though taken at a disadvantage, when many of the men were out at work or away chicken hunting, the scare of the Northfield boys was but momentary. Collecting their perturbed thoughts men rushed about in search of fire arms, but this most necessary desideratum for a successful encounter with a body of desperadoes or madmen, armed to the teeth, was found to be very scarce on

THIS EVENTFUL DAY.

Mr. J. B. Hide, however, succeeded in getting a shot gun with which he blazed away at the marauding scoundrels, or escaped lunatics, for it was not at first exactly understood what the fellows were. Mr. Manning, armed with a breech loading rifle, came coolly upon the field of action, backed by Mr. L. Stacey and Mr. Phillips, while Dr. Wheeler armed himself with an old breech loading carbine and placing himself in a room (No. 8) in the third story of the Dampier House, delivered two very effective shots.

THE BATTLE

was now at its height, and firing was raging in downright earnest.

Manning, from the front of the Scriver block, Bates from the clothing store of Mr. Hanauer, and Wheeler from the window directly over the clothing store, and unobserved by the daring scoundrels, made it lively for the desperate gang, and kept them from passing into Mill Square.

One of the gang was about mounting his horse and while stooping over the pommel of his saddle with his back toward Wheeler, that gentleman took deliberate aim and fired.

The fellow pitched right over his horse falling on his head to the earth where he lay gasping for a few moments and soon was everlastingly still.

Manning in the meantime was not idle, and while Wheeler was searching for another cartridge, he advanced from his retreat and seeing a horseman riding towards him up Division street, he took a steady deliberate aim and fired. The man immediately turned his horse and started off a few paces rapidly, but the horse steadied his pace, the man rocked to and fro, and suddenly the horse stopped and the man fell over to the ground, when another horseman galloped up, sprang from his horse, turned the fallen man over and took from him his pistols and belt, then springing again to his saddle, he rode up the street.

Another scoundrel alighted from his horse and getting behind it commenced a rapid fire down the street, seeing which the intrepid and cool Manning, with all the nonchalance in the world, raised his unerring rifle and stretched the living barricade lifeless at the bandit's feet. The enraged brigand then ran towards Manning, fearless of the formidable weapon of Bates, and sheltering himself behind some packing cases under the open stairway of Scriver block, he commenced a rapid fusilade, evidently with the intention of keeping Manning from firing up the street at others of the gang.

But Wheeler had succeeded in finding another cartridge and returning to the room from which he delivered his first shot, a young lady, who had remained at the window coolly watching the fight throughout, pointed out to Wheeler the man who was keeping Manning from effectual work.

“Only aim as true as you did before” said

THE BRAVE GIRL

“and there will be one the less to fight” and Wheeler fired.

Instantly the villain dropped his hand upon his thigh, and the girl cried out, “Oh, you aimed too low,” thinking the shot had taken effect in the middle third of the right thigh.

Wheeler at once left the room in search of another cartridge which unluckily he was unable to find. The wounded man who had changed his pistol to the left hand and discharged several shots at Manning, now turned about, and seeing Bates inside his store with a pistol in his hand and thinking it was from this source he had received his [pg 9] wound, as quick as a lightning flash sent a deadly missive at the unsuspecting Bates.

The ball crashed through the intervening glass of the store front, and burnt a scorching track across the victims face from ear to nose.

But during this time a bloody and terrible tragedy was being enacted in the bank.

A scene exhibiting a greater amount of reckless daring, and brutal ferocity; of intrepid courage, and heroic fortitude; ending in a most dastardly, and

APPALLING, SICKENING, TRAGEDY

could not be imagined than the one which was in progress in the bank while the street fight already described was going on.

Just a few moments before the raiders commenced their wild career on the streets, three men rushed into the bank, holding in their hands large pistols, the glittering barrels of which they directed toward the three gentlemen, Messrs. Heywood, Bunker and Wilcox, who occupied the desks behind the counter. Springing over the counter these desperadoes shouted out

“THROW UP YOUR HANDS,”

“we intend to rob the bank.”

“Which is the Cashier?” one demanded, and instantly approaching Heywood, commanded him to open the safe. “I am not the cashier,” was the reply.

The man then turned to Bunker, and made the same demand, but he also denied that he held that important post. The fellow next addressed the bewildered and fear-stricken Wilcox, whose terror prevented him from answering.

The baffled man again turned to Heywood, and with oaths and threats endeavored to make him open the safe.

Heywood replied that he could not, when the scoundrel fired a pistol close to his ear, and said “if he did not at once open the safe he would scatter his brains.”

The brave Heywood still insisted upon his inability to comply.

The ruffian then seized him by the collar and dragging him toward the safe drew out a long, keen edged knife, and posing it over Heywood's throat, threatened to cut it from ear to ear if he did not at once open the safe.

But the brave man, faithful to his trust, stolidly refused, when the robber released his hold of his collar and went into the safe vault.

Now was the opportunity for the faithful Heywood.

“If I can but get that ponderous door closed,” thought he, “and spring the bolts upon the scoundrel, the”

VILLIANS WILL BE BAFFLED,

“and my integrity saved from suspicion.”

It was a supreme moment of dreadful anxiety to him, and such the [pg 10] intense excitement of his feelings, that when he rushed upon the door to close it, his strength was unequal to the task, and before he could recover himself to renew the effort, a powerful hand seized him by the throat, and threw him back from the vault, at the same time a ruthless arm struck him to the ground with the butt end of a pistol.

Taking advantage of this struggle between Heywood and the robbers, Bunker sprang to his feet and bounded toward the back entrance of the premises.

But before he reached the door a sharp report and the crashing of a ball showed him that he had only miraculously escaped from having his brains scattered by one of the bandits. Bounding out of the bank he ran madly down Water street, not however till another shot from the murderous revolver cranched through his shoulder.

At this point another of the band of ruffians hastily entered the bank and exclaimed:

“Clear boys, the game is up.”

The three men instantly jumped upon the counter and made tracks for the door.

But one man paused in his headlong retreat, and seeing Heywood reaching for his desk, turned round and leveling his revolver at the devoted head of the faithful teller, fired, and without a groan, the brave man fell to the floor,

HIS LIFE BLOOD STAINING THE DESK

and seat with its crimson stream.

In the street the baffled and retreating murderers sought their horses and vaulting into their saddles they were soon rushing with frantic haste out of town westward.

It was some few moments before the citizens could sufficiently recover themselves to take in thoroughly the entire situation.

There lay in the open street a few paces from the bank entrance a bandit in all the hideous ghastliness of a bloody death. A few feet from him was stretched the lifeless body of a noble horse, while further down the street on the opposite side another grim corpse lay in a pool of seething gore.

Windows in all directions were shattered, and door posts showed scars of imbedded bullets.

Reluctantly the assembled citizens approached the bank, and the sight which there met their horror stricken gaze caused a thrill of indignation to seize upon every nerve; and strong men turned pale as they clinched their fists and set their teeth, registering an inward oath to wreak vengeance upon the miscreant perpetrators of the dastardly outrage.

There lay poor Heywood! the man who dared death and defied three of the most notorious scoundrels who ever “cracked a crib” or broke a scull, who resisted torture, and finally gave his life blood in defense of his trust.

Who was the man to carry the appalling news to the young wife and tell her that he, upon whom hung her very life, had left her for all time—that he had been torn from her and hurled into dread eternity by the ruthless hand of the bloody assassin!

Who was stout enough to bear the gore covered mangled corpse to the new desolate and grief stricken home!

But there were those who were willing to pursue the

RED HANDED MURDERERS.

Some overcome with indignation, impetuously prepared for the chase, but others, perhaps more determined men, who were willing to follow on to the very death, were not so hasty in their departure, but as time proved were prepared to pertinaciously follow up the trial with the tenacity of the bloodhound.

Two of the former, Davis and Hayes, immediately sought for horses and none being so ready as those of the two dead robbers, seized them, sprang into the saddles, and were soon in hot pursuit.

Both men were well armed with rifles—one an eighteen shot Winchester with globe sight. At every point they heard of the retreating villians upon whom they were gaining rapidly. Dashing through Dundas, Hayes and Davis kept up the pursuit till at last they saw a group of horsemen surrounding a wagon from which they were apparently taking the horses. As the pursuers advanced one of the horsemen turned from the wagon, and advancing a few steps up the road ordered the pursuing men to halt.

Davis and Hayes instinctively obeyed, and strange to relate, these two men who had been so impatient to commence the pursuit, now that they were confronted by the audacious scoundrels found their courage waning, and they halted.

Nor did they again find their courage return, but they sat there and saw the marauders after securing one of the farmer's horses again boldly dash away.

After the robbers had gone, Davis and Hayes leisurely wended their way to Millersburg where they awaited the coming of the other pursuers, two men standing but little chance against six such desperadoes.

It is true that Davis and Hayes had the advantage of the bandits in arms, but it is doubtful after all, if there are many men to be found who would have done differently, confronted as they were by six stalwart fierce knights of the road well armed and unscrupulous in shedding human blood, as they had shown at Northfield.

After the departure of Davis and Hayes, about thirty citizens organized into a pursuing party, some mounted on horses, others were carried in wagons and buggies, and all set out in full speed along the road the robbers had taken.

Meantime the