Part 7

Directly after the war Ike Flannery, a nephew of George Shepherd, reached the age of manhood and came into possession of five thousand dollars, a sum he had inherited from the estate of his deceased father. Ike was somewhat wayward and was well acquainted with the James Boys and the guerrillas. Jesse James and Jim Anderson, a brother of the notorious Bill, knew of Ike Flannery's inheritance, and they induced him to buckle on his pistols, take his money and go with them upon a pretended expedition. Near Glasgow, Missouri, the three stopped at the house of a friend where there were three girls, the men of the house being away on business. After eating dinner the three started away, but they had been gone only a few moments when the report of two pistol shots was heard and Jim Anderson came riding back to the house where they had dined, and told the girls that his party had been fired on by the militia, and that Flannery had been killed. Jesse James and Anderson rode away while the girls notified some of the neighbors, and when the body of Flannery was found in the road, there were two bullet holes in the head and the five thousand dollars were missing. Shepherd did not learn all the circumstances connected with Flannery's death until sometime afterward, but when he was told how Anderson and Jesse James acted, he was convinced that they murdered his nephew and plundered his dead body.

It was more than one year after this tragic occurrence before Shepherd met either of the murderers. He was in Sherman, Texas, when Jim Anderson came up to him with a cordial greeting, little suspecting the terrible result of that meeting. The two drank together and appeared on the best of terms until the hour of eleven o'clock at night. The saloon was closing and the darkness without was most uninviting. Shepherd asked Anderson to accompany him over to the court-house yard as he wanted to talk secretly concerning a certain transaction.

When the two reached the yard, and about them was nothing but sombre shadow and the quiet of sleep, cautiously, yet determinedly, Shepherd drew from its sheath a long, bright, deadly knife, which gathered on its blade and focused the light unseen before, and then made ready for a horrible deed. Anderson had never thought of danger until the keen edge of the terrible weapon was at his throat.

Said Shepherd: "You murdered Ike Flannery and robbed his body of five thousand dollars. I have determined to avenge his death, and to accomplish my purpose I brought you here. What have you got to say?"

Anderson had killed many men and he knew how to die. There was no begging, no denying, only a realization of what he could not avert; and he accepted fate with a stoicism worthy of a religious fanatic. Before receiving the fatal stroke, however, he told Shepherd that Jesse James was the one who proposed the murder and robbery of young Flannery, and that each fired a fatal shot and then divided the stolen money. When this admission escaped his lips, Shepherd sprang upon him like a tiger, drew the glittering blade of the terrible knife across his throat, and the spirit of the murderer and robber took its flight into the realms of the unknown.

On the following morning a dead body with a ghastly gash in the throat, from which the blood had poured until it dyed the grass a yard in diameter, was found and identified as that of Jim Anderson. DeHart, an old-time guerrilla, was in Sherman at the time of the murder, and was known to have a grudge against the murdered man, so suspicion attached to him so strongly that he had to leave Texas. No one ever suspected Shepherd of the murder, but his own confessions to the writer are given in this account of Anderson's execution.

Shepherd has longed for an opportunity to kill Jesse James, but the surroundings, even during a long association, were never sufficiently favorable. The opportunity was exceedingly unfavorable at Short Creek, but revenge and the promise of such an immense reward nerved him to the undertaking.

ROBBERY OF THE MAMMOTH CAVE STAGES.

The James Boys, and especially Frank, have remained in seclusion for a considerable period, and with the shooting of Jesse--whom many still believe to be dead--it was thought that the old remnants of guerrilla plunderers had entirely disappeared. It is positively known that Frank James resided in Baltimore during the winter of 1879-80, and his home was located on one of the principal resident streets. At that time he wore full whiskers which were very long, reaching to his waist. The name he bore while in Baltimore the writer has not been able to learn, for obvious reasons. He disappeared from that city in March last, and it is reported by Kansas City police officers that Frank was seen in Jackson county, Missouri, by two of his acquaintances in the latter part of July, 1880, and that his whiskers were cut short. The following account of the robbery of the Mammoth Cave stage again brings Frank James and Jim Cummings prominently into notice.

The Concord stage running between Mammoth Cave and Cave City, in Edmonson county, Kentucky, was captured by highwaymen on the afternoon of Friday, September 3d, 1880, and the passengers despoiled of everything they carried.

At this season of the year Mammoth Cave is visited by thousands of tourists and sight-seers, who are usually people of means, furnishing fat pickings for the robbers. One of the routes to the cave, and the one selected by the large majority of its visitors, is by way of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad to Cave City, and thence by the Concord stages to the cave, which is about eight or ten miles distant. The stage road is through a lonely and rocky region, and about midway on the route it runs through a dense wood, which adds considerably to its dreariness. About 6 o'clock Friday evening, while the coach from the cave was coming to Cave City, it reached this wood, and while coming through the narrow road in a walk, two men, one mounted on a thin black thoroughbred horse, and the other on a fine sorrel, rode out of the dense forest, and, dashing up to the stage, covered the driver and passengers with their revolvers and called a halt. The stage was pulled up, the driver was ordered down and to the door of his vehicle, and then calmly dismounting and holding their horses by the bridle reins, the work of delivering the booty began. The rider of the black horse, a man about thirty-five years old, with a straggling red mustache and beard, was the leader and spokesman. He was rather small, not appearing to be over five feet six inches in height, and would weigh about 140 pounds. He had light blue eyes, a pleasant smile and distributed his attentions to the defenseless party of eight passengers with a sang froid and easy politeness which did much to alleviate their feelings. His accomplice was about the same age, with black whiskers and mustache rather ragged in trim, and had a pair of black eyes. He was rather slow in his movements, but the business in hand suffered nothing for that.

"Come out of the stage, please," said the spokesman, in a light, high pitched voice.

The passengers looked through the open windows and saw the muzzles of the impassive revolvers covering the whole length of the vehicle, and, as there was not a weapon in the party as large as a penknife, they could not resist or parley. There were seven gentlemen and one lady in the coach, and the lady naturally was nervous and alarmed. In the excitement and bustle attendant upon rising and leaving their seats, Mr. R. S. Rountree, of the Milwaukee _Evening Wisconsin_, who was making the trip with relatives, slipped his pocket-book and gold watch under the cushion of the seat.

Very few words were spoken, though the highwaymen seemed impatient and ordered them to "hurry up." As each gentleman stepped out he was covered with the muzzle of a revolver and told to take his place in line and hold up his hands. The lady, a daughter of Hon. R. H. Rountree, of Lebanon, Ky., was permitted to remain in the stage. After the passengers were all out the leader of the two villains tossed his rein to his accomplice, who covered the line while the spokesman proceeded to rifle their pockets, talking pleasantly as he went. J. E. Craig, Jr., of Lawrenceville, Ga., lost $670; Hon. R. H. Rountree, of Lebanon, Ky., handed out a handsome gold watch, valued at $200, and $55 in cash; S. W. Shelton, of Calhoun, Tenn., gave up about $50; Miss Lizzie Rountree, of Lebanon, Ky., lost nothing but rings, one of them a handsome diamond; S. H. Frohlichstein, of Mobile, Ala., lost $23; Geo. M. Paisley, of Pittsburg, gave up $33; W. G. Welsh, of Pittsburg, lost $5 and a handsome watch. R. S. Rountree, of Milwaukee, saved his money as stated. Hon. R. H. Rountree felt very sore over the loss of an elegant engraved watch, which was presented by Hon. J. Proctor Knott, the member of Congress from the Fourth District.

The spokesman of the marauders explained that they were not highwaymen, but moonshiners, and were pursued so hotly by the government officers that they were compelled to have money to get out of the country. He asked each passenger his name and place of residence, and noted them down, saying that some day he would repay them their losses. When he came to Mr. Craig, of Georgia, he remarked that he hated to take his money because he had fought in a Georgia regiment during the war, but the case was a desperate one and he was compelled to do it.

When Miss Rountree gave her name and place of residence at Lebanon, a pleased smile lighted up the robber's face, and he asked:

"Do you know the Misses ---- of Lebanon?"

"Quite well," answered the young lady.

"So do I," he rejoined, "and they are nice girls. Give them my regards when you see them, and tell them I will make this right some day."

After getting all the valuables of the party the marauders returned the pocket-books with the railway passes and tickets, and giving the passengers orders to get in, mounted and rode off. They told the passengers, for consolation, that they had robbed the out stage, getting $700 from Mr. George Croghan, one of the owners of the cave.

The rider of the black horse was Frank James, and his companion was Jim Cummings. These facts have been fully established by information of an indisputable character, which came into the possession of the writer since the robbery.

PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE JAMES BOYS.

Singular as it may appear, there is scarcely a single feature of similarity in the character of the James brothers. Frank James is a man of more than ordinary education, and his manners show some effort at refinement. He is very slim, and not more than five feet six inches in height, and weighs about one hundred and forty pounds. He has blue eyes, very light hair and usually wears a shortly cropped full beard and straggling mustache, of a pale, reddish color. His face is peculiar in shape, being broad at the forehead and tapering abruptly from the cheek bones to the chin, which is almost pointed. In his motions he is neither naturally slow nor quick, but at times he affects either. His cunning and coolness are remarkable, and to compare the two boys in this respect would be like comparing the boldest highwayman with the lowest sneak thief, so great is Frank's superiority. In the matter of education Frank has improved his opportunities and is a student, being a lover of books and familiar with the different phases of life. He has murdered many men, and yet he is not destitute of mercy, and finds no gratification in deeds of blood. He has tried to imitate the traditions of Claude Duval, whose fictitious adventures Frank has read until he can repeat them like the written narrative.

Jesse James is a strongly made man, standing five feet ten inches in height, and will weigh one hundred and sixty-five pounds. He has brown eyes, dark hair and is of a nervous temperament. Jesse's peculiarity is in his eyes which are never at rest. In his youth Jesse was troubled with granulated eyelids from which he has never fully recovered, which is seen in the constant batting of his eyes and a slight irritation of the lids; besides this marked peculiarity, the first joint of the forefinger on his left hand is missing. He usually wears full whiskers of apparently one month's growth. His education is very limited, barely enabling him to read and write. He is revengeful in his nature, always sanguine, impetuous, almost heedless. It is due to Frank James' strategy and Jesse's desperate bravery that the latter has not long since been punished for his crimes. In deeds of violence Jesse finds especial delight, and in his entire nature there is not a trace of mercy.

It is asserted, by those who know them best, that Jesse and Frank are only half-brothers, having the same mother, but that Jesse's father is a physician in Clay county. What truth there is in this report the writer does not assume the responsibility of confirming, giving it only as the assertion of many prominent men of Clay county.

On one occasion, so George Shepherd relates, while Jesse and Frank were dining with their mother, with Shepherd as their guest, a dispute arose over a trivial matter, in which the brothers became very angry and drew their pistols. Mrs. Samuels made no effort to interfere, and the difficulty terminated without a fight. In the row Frank told Jesse that he knew they were not brothers, to which assertion neither Jesse nor Mrs. Samuels made any reply.

It is well known among the confederates of the James Boys, and it has been so declared by Shepherd, the Younger boys and Cummings, that there was no love between Frank and Jesse, and Shepherd told the writer that instead of Frank avenging the attack on Jesse at Short Creek he would applaud it. Going still farther, Shepherd said that at his last meeting with Frank, two years ago, the latter declared he would kill Jesse if he ever met him again; that Jess, as he called him, had tried to have him (Frank) ambushed and captured in Texas, and that that was not the first time Jess had played the stake to have him murdered.

The fact of Jim Cummings' association with Frank James in the robbery of the Mammoth Cave stage coaches gives color of truth to Shepherd's declaration that he killed Jesse James near Galena, or to Cummings' statement that Shepherd's shot, while not killing Jesse, had paralyzed his brain and destroyed his mind.

Frank James was married to Miss Annie Ralston, of Jackson county, in September, 1875. The marriage was one of those romantic episodes which brought great sorrow to Mr. Ralston, an industrious farmer living eight miles from Kansas City. Miss Annie was but a school girl whose reading of dime novels had so far impaired her judgment as to make her long for the association of a hero. Her meeting with Frank James was accidental, but she had read of his exploits and he was her ideal. Annie left her home clandestinely and met Frank James many miles from the old homestead; a Baptist minister performed the ceremony and the outlaw and his now ostracised wife went into the shadows of cave and forest, severing the bonds which bound them to society and civilization.

When Mr. Ralston learned of the desperate step taken by his daughter he was almost crazed with grief. He went direct to Kansas City and, with eyes suffused with tears, begged Judge Mumford, of the _Times_, to prepare for him and publish an article which would relieve him of the stigma which might attach to him by the error of his daughter. Mr. Ralston was anxious the public should know that he never had any association with the outlaw and that, though Annie had been a child who had filled his heart with love, yet her alliance with a highwayman had banished the very memory of her from the fond heart which would know her no more. Such an article did appear in the _Times_, and if Mr. Ralston ever became reconciled to his bandit son-in-law his neighbors never learned the fact.

Jesse James was married to his cousin, Miss Zerelda Mimms, in the Autumn of 1874, at the home of his mother in Clay county. Miss Mimms was an orphan, who had lived with a married sister in Kansas City. Being of age there was no one to criticise her act, and she stepped across the threshold of prescribed citizenship to share the perils of an outlaw's life.

The peculiar profession followed by Jesse and Frank James has prevented them from having any permanent residence, and their wives have been compelled, in a measure, to lead a life of seclusion, traveling from place to place, concealing their identity and experiencing few pleasures because of the constant anxiety to which they are subjected. It is understood that Frank is the father of two children, and Jesse finds consolation in two little boys and a baby girl. The outlaw brothers make affectionate husbands and loving and indulgent fathers.

THE UNION PACIFIC EXPRESS ROBBERY.

The following account of the Union Pacific train robbery is not published in chronological order with other robberies, because it is not certainly known that the James Boys had any connection with it, and in this history of these noted desperadoes we have endeavored to give only such facts as are, sustained by indisputable evidence. It is generally believed, however, that the two noted brothers led the party, and, with their usual shrewdness, succeeded in escaping southward with a large amount of booty. The following letter, written by Jesse James to a former comrade, in March previous to the robbery, is strong presumptive evidence that he and Frank were the planners and executors of the scheme, and that they had it in contemplation even before the raid into Minnesota:

FORT WORTH, March 10th, '77.

DEAR ----

The boys will soon be ready. As soon as the roads dries up, and the streams runs down, we will drive. We expect to take in a good bunch of cattle. You may look out. There will be lots of bellering after the drive. Remember it's business. The rainge is good, I learn, between Sidney and Dedwood. We may go to pasture somewheres in that region. You will hear of it. Tell Sam to come to Honey Grove, Texas, before the drive seson comes. There's money in the stock. As ever,

Jesse J.

There is a mystery connected with the Union Pacific Railroad robbery which, for more than three years, has remained impenetrable and will, doubtless, continue so to the end of time. The particulars of this daring outrage, gathered principally from newspaper reports at the time, are as follows:

On the 10th day of September, 1877, a party of nine men, well armed and mounted, rode to a point on the Union Pacific R. R. near Ogallala, the capital of Keith county, in the extreme western part of Nebraska. They made no special effort to deceive the people of the town, as the purpose of their visit was never mentioned. On the day following the encampment, one of the party, afterwards known to be Jim Berry, a former resident of the State, went into Ogallala and purchased four large red handkerchiefs and a gallon of whiskey. That night the camp presented a hilarious scene and the wild orgies were continued such an unusually long time that the citizens began to make remarks respecting the character of the nine strange men. Three days afterward the camp was abandoned, none of the citizens knowing which direction the party had taken, so that suspicion was directed against the object of the singular visitors.

On the 18th following, the mysterious nine suddenly appeared at a small station called Big Springs, fifteen miles west of Ogallala, where the engines of the Union Pacific railroad almost invariably stop for water. The express train was due from the west at eight o'clock, P. M., and the party disposed themselves, directly after dark, in favorable positions for the work in hand. Promptly upon time the train came thundering up to the station and the engine stopped under the water tank. As the fireman was about to mount the tender for the purpose of directing the water spout, two men wearing red handkerchiefs for masks rushed up toward the engine. For some reason the engineer had a presentiment that some trouble was brewing, so seizing his pistol he stepped to the side of the cab and peered into the darkness. It was too late; the fire through the open furnace door reflected his actions distinctly and in a moment the engineer realized that he was looking down into the fatal depths of four navy revolvers and he and the fireman were forced to surrender and keep quiet.

At the same time the two robbers took possession of the engine, two others, with the same mask of red handkerchiefs, boarded the express car, while the other five commenced discharging their pistols in order to intimidate the passengers. The express messenger made an effort at resistance, but he was struck a desperate blow on the head with a pistol and then forced to deliver up the keys to the Wells, Fargo & Co.'s safe. The contents of the safe in gold, silver and currency amounted to $60,000, besides 300,000 ounces of silver in bars, the latter consigned to the Treasury at Washington. The robbers could not handle the heavy silver bars, so they were compelled to be satisfied with the other contents of the safe and about $2,000 which they took from the passengers. They then permitted the train to go on its way, and having divided their plunder they loaded the coin on three pack-mules and made off with it.

The men had been carelessly masked and a passenger had recognized one of them as a fellow named Joel Collins, who had been passing for a stock man about that section. From this the railroad detectives obtained information on which to act, and though the pursuit which was organized failed to overtake the outlaws, there was still a hope of recovering some of the treasure. Part of the gang had gone directly south into Kansas, and word was sent along the Kansas Pacific to be on the lookout for them. On the 25th of September, Sheriff Bardsley and ten soldiers were patroling a section of the road near Buffalo station. They had a description of one of the parties who were expected to strike about that point, and sure enough two men were seen coming down from the north with a pack animal. The soldiers kept out of sight in a ravine near by, and when the men reached the station and were watering their horses the sheriff talked with them long enough to be satisfied that they were the men he was expecting. They only stopped a few minutes, then pushed on south. The sheriff immediately brought out his squad and demanded a halt, calling Collins by name. The men even then did not seem to apprehend that they were known as the train robbers, but on being told to surrender they drew their pistols. This brought a volly from the cavalrymen which killed them both. In the pack was found $20,000 of the gold. Collins' companion's name was Bass, and he is generally supposed to have been the Texas desperado, Sam Bass. The point at which this treasure was first recovered was only 300 miles south of where the robbery occurred. Subsequently the detectives succeeded in tracing several others of the band and making them give up some of the money, but the greater part of it was lost. It was claimed at the time that Jesse and Frank James were along with this band and that they made enough out of the haul to reimburse themselves very well for what they lost on the Northfield trip.

After the fight at Buffalo the remaining bandits separated for the purpose of dividing the trail which was being followed closely, and the hope was indulged for some time that all the robbers would certainly be apprehended. But after the bandits divided the chase was unavailing and the pursuing parties returned to their homes.