Washington County, Indiana - Chapter 16: Crimes and Misdemeanors, 1916 (part 2 of 2)

Mexicans were treacherous, and would bushwhack a /Texan occasionally. They didn't seem to have enough war to thoroughly satisfy them. While McLane was still at Galveston a Captain Ross organized a company of rangers to explore the Rio Grande country and keep watch and report if the "Greasers" crossed over into Texas. McLane longed for more adventure and joined the rangers. From Galveston they marched to Houston and were sent from there to Gonzales. There were seventy men in the company, all well armed and mounted when they started out. They also secured two hundred additional horses, which were taken to a ranch near the Rio Grande, from which the rangers were to draw as needed. On their way to the Rio Grande country, the horses stampeded one dark night, and fled as though old Satan was riding them. McLane was sent after them with a guard of six others. They followed the trail of the horses for twenty days across the desert, but never found one, and giving up the pursuit journeyed back to the company. They then recruited up their stock and were ready for any adventure. When all was in order they started for the post of Sequia, and from thence to Antonio. The whole country was then stocked with cattle, seemingly runing wild, as there was never anyone in sight to care for them. Whenever a supply of meat was needed they only had to lasso or shoot a beef or two and dress them ready for use. If the meat was hung up in the air in tolerably thick strips it would cure without any salt, and it was no trouljle to have dried beef on a long march or when food was likely to be scarce. Usually the haversack was filled with "jerked" meat, and sometimes this was for days their only food. Their mustangs kef in good condition grazing on wild grass, which was everywhere abundant.

The next point where a halt was called was at Mission Conception, a place occupied by some Jesuit fathers. Quiet reigning there, they thence went to Captain Manshack's ranch on the Laborde river. Hearing there of .iepredations being committed by some lawless Mexicans, they pushed on to the mouth of the Serilla, where Colonel Fannin and all his men were massacred in 1835. The next point was Rio Polo Blanco, but Santa Anna, the Mexican commander, had caused it to be entirely destroyed, after which he had retreated back into Mexico. The rangers then scouted to the northwest a few days, stopping on a vast prairie for men and horses to recruit up.

While there they met the rebel Mexican generals Caravajal and Caballos, who were engaged in the interests of the revolutionists, in attempt- (30) ing to overthrow the government of Santa Anna in }iIexico. Plere Major Trimble and Colonel Jordan, with some independent rangers, joined Mc- Lane's company. A council of Jordan, Trimble, Caravajal and Caballos was held, which resulted in an agreement to unite all their forces and enter Mexico and fight to restore the constitution of 1824, and for a republican form of government. When all was ready they took up the line of march for Laredo on the Rio Grande. Here they crossed over and went to Gurrel, at the m.outh of Jedt river, where a fight ensued with the Mexican general, the united forces whipping and putting the "greasers" to route completely. Flushed with their first victory, they started up the river to ]\Ieir. While en route they came across General Perbone with six hundred and forty men, as the advance guard of a body of troops who were on the way to invade Texas. The wily Mexican general fell back as Caravajal's forces advanced. Finally, however, they made a stand. There were eight hundred ^Mexicans and two hundred and ninety rangers. The united forces had been divided, the rangers being under the command of Colonel Jordan. They charged on the Mexicans with their wild yell, very much like Indians, and the Mexicans broke and fled without waiting for the furious onset. The rangers pursued them nine miles, to Canales, the Mexican general's camp. Here, with some reinforcements, the Mexicans rallied and made a stand to give battle. It was now abovit four o'clock in the afternoon, and Colonel Jordan called a halt for men and horses to rest and prepare for the coming liattle. The slaughter of Texans by the Mexicans at the Alamo had not been forgotten, and the rangers went into e\ery battle with the war cry, "Remember the Alamo." and well did they remember it, for they never gave nor received quarter thereafter. \\'hen the sun was about half an hour high the rangers were in battle array. Colonel Jordan commanding. The word went down the line, "Remember the Alamo!" and every ranger was instructed to charge and carry destruction like a whirlwind. The Mexicans were prepared with fixed lances to receive them. On plunged the rangers, yelling like demons, and dealing death on every hand. They broke through the Mexican columns, then wheeled and came at them again, bringing their sabres into telling effect, and in less than twenty minutes were victorious. Three Texans had been killed and nineteen wounded. Seventy-five dead Mexicans lav on the field, and three hundred were taken prisoners, the balance escajiing. Colonel Jordan halted and sent back for General Caravajal, who joined him at once, and General Perbone was surrounded, surrendering without a fight, saying. "I do not surrender to Mexicans; T surrender to .Americans."

Seeking Further Adventures

In this fight McLane was wounded in the ankle, and it would have been a very serious, if not a fatal, wound, had it not been for the metal boots that he wore as protection against the cactus. After the battle General Canales told Colonel Jordan that "he ' oped when he and his men got home they would become civilized, for/" id he, "^ could neither hold nor rally my men under such an onslaught. It ;ven f ^'.tened the horses, and it required all the soldiers' attention to keep seatea.' He declared also that he would never fight the Texans again. All the prisoners were paroled, and the Texans went into camp near Meir. Here Captain Ross concluded that he would return home with such of his men as desired to go. About onehalf of the' company went, McLane joining those who remained. He was offered the captaincy, which he absolutely refused. William G. Sill was then elected captain ; William Sargeant, of Bardstown, Kentucky, first lieutenant, and James B. McLane, second lieutenant. The command now took the road to Camargo, whence General Canales had preceded them, the next stop being near Metamoras. This place they surrounded and after a skirmish the city surrendered, whereupon Canales demanded of the merchants a duty on yarn, which was finally paid and the money was divided among his men. The English and American consuls protested against this levy and threatened them with a couple of war vessels lying in the port, whereupon Canales moved his forces toward Monterey. It was a long and rough road, up through mountain canyons and across streams. Arriving at Monterey, they laid siege to the city, keeping up the same for eight days, losing some of their men, among these being Lieutenant Gordon. The place proved too strong for them and they had to retreat, being pursued bv Mexican cavalry, and a running fight was kept up for a couple of days, when a heavy rain raised the streams so that the Mexicans could not or did not pursue them farther.

Reaching Mier, McLane's party replenished their stock and provisions and then started for Laredo, on the Rio Grande, at which point they crossed over into Texas, which was not at that time a part of the United States, and took up their line of march toward Santa Fe. On the route they met three thousand Mexicans, and after a brief engagement they were completely whipped, and the entire force captured, save Genera! Caballos, McLane and one other man, who escaped amidst a shower of bullets and made their way as best they could to Corpus Christi. Oftentimes they were whole days

At Corpus Chri>.ti another expedition was gotten up by Generals Cavallas and Caravajal and led to San Antonio. The two generals went to Galveston to drum up more recruits, and were to go thence to Alatanioras to join the command. McLane rode General Carvajal's splendid warhorse through for him. After many miles of marching they came to Limiville, on the coast, the place where they were to meet their generals and remained there three weeks, waiting. The boats ditl not come and smne of the men remained there, while a number went up to X'ictoria, McLane and a few others going on to Gonzales. Shortly afterward they started again for the coast, and McLane was captured by the Indians. The command pursued them, but McLane escaped from his guards at night, but could not hnd his men, so he struck out on foot for the nearest white settlement, distant about two hundred and forty miles. He had no gun, his clothing was tattered and he had very little money. He had to go most of the way through the Commanche countr_\- and met but one man on the route, from whom he got a biscuit for tifty cents. .After several weary days of travel he came to l"t. Bend, on the Brazos river, where he got something to eat ami a few days' rest. He then went up Trinity ri\er and got employment on a ranch until he saved enough money to [lurchase a suit of buckskin and a gun.

AIcLane remained in that part of the countrx- till the .spring ni 1S43, when word was received that the Mexicans had evacuated San .Xntunio. Volunteers were called for to scout after them and watch along the ri\er. McLane went, but he joined no company. He was commissioned as a ->p\-. and he selected four men as his companions in this very hazardous and dangerous employment. They scouted some distance ahead of the in the direction of Mier. near which place the scouts ran into some .Mexicans, who got the better of McLane's party. He refused to surrender and put spurs to his horse to escajjc. They pursued him about two miles before he was overtaken. One of the Mexicans ga\'e him a sabre cut across the head, which knocked him off his horse, and he was easily captured. When he came to his senses he was a bound prisoner on his \\a\- to the (."it\' of Mexico. His captors went b\- .Montdora, where thev :-topped for a time, anil thence on to the Citv of Mexico.

Prisoner In Mexico City

Along the entire route McLaue suffered a great deal from his sabre wound but after arrivnig at Mexico City he was able to care for it better, and soon was in good shape. His captors put him to sweeping the stree s ^^^daytime, locking' him up m a dismal cell of nights. Shortly after McLan capture his entire command was taken, and they, too, were sent through to Mexico Citv. The Mexican commander said that an example ^^fj^^f^ oi some of 'them, and gave orders that every fourteenth man should l^ shot There were there about a hundred of them, and this would require the death of seven. They were to draw beans from a box to decide their fate. They had no black beans, so they threw some white one sinto a black dye. The hot dve made the beans quite rough, which McLane observed, and when it came'his time to draw he carefully felt for a smooth bean and of course :t was white. Of the seven condemned men, three were Catholics for whom the priests interceded, and they were reprieved by the commander, but the other four were taken out and shot. Colonel Fanning's men, who were not massacred, had to go through the same ordeal. McLane was a prisoner for over a vear, at the end of which time he and others were exchanged and released through the aid of the American consul, Volney E. Howard. after which thev were all sent to New Orleans, by the way of Vera Cruz.

\fter a short stop at New Orleans, McLane returned to Galveston, ready for anv new and hazardous venture. No more parties being m sight, he joined a 'companv of traders and explorers for Santa Fe, where they remained about six months, at the end of which time they concluded to go to Salt lake and the Rocky mountains in search of gold. They had some good luck but lacked means and outfits for mining successfully, and. being continuallv threatened bv hostile Indians, they retraced their steps to Cross Timbers where thev traded with the Indians for three months and tnen returned to Corpus Christi, and sold out, dividing the proceeds.

McLane and four others then volunteered to go to Yucatan and join the army of liberation there. They embarked on a vessel and landed at the mouth of the Labascos river; thence by circuitous route they reached the armed forces of Yucatan. McLane served here nine months, during which time he was in a number of engagements. When he concluded to eave he made his wav to the coast and boarded the first outbound vessel for Havana. Cuba He remained there only a few days, when he found passage for Matamoras, where he formed a company of ten men to round up cattle along tlie Aniarilld river ami surrounding country. He made lots of money, but the business l)ecame tim nionotDnous for a roving disposition like McLane's, so the ne.xt venture was nn a trading e.xpedition into the Chihauhua country. The trip was successful and he returned to St. Pallas island, in the Ri(.) Grande, near the salt region, where he, with some others, engaged in catching wild horses for the purpose of obtaining the hair of the mane and tail, which at that time was a valuable article of merchandise, the Mexicans using it to make bridles, halters and lariats. Next, and up to September, 1845. McLane was engaged as train escort and guide for numerous caravans of traders that traveled across the Te.xan domain.

When war was declared between the L'nited States and Mexico, General Canale; was on the east side of the Rio Grande, enlisting men to take sides with the United States. He came across ^McLane and representing that he was going to get all the Mexicans along the Rio Grande to join' him induced McLane antl S(jme of his old comrades to join him. McLane remained with this command for about two months and was on the march to Monterev with Taylor's army, when Col. Jack Hax'es' regiment of Texas Rangers came up. Recognizing many of his old comrades in arms of years agone, McLane left Canales and joined Hayes' regiment. He had known Hayes well years before. He was in the thickest of the fight at Monterey, and after that town was taken, the rangers were transferred to General Scotts' column in its advance upon Mexico Cuy. They had been under General Worth. Hayes' regiment was placed on the extreme right of Scott's army, and was in every engagement from Vera Cruz to the cit\- of Mexico. Xearly e\ery luan in this regiment had suffered either in ]ierson or as a prisoner, or had soiue near relative who had been masacred m cold blood. Many of them were related to those of Fannin's men who were brutall\ butchered or to those who were slain at the .\laiuo and tbe\ thirsted for the blood of the "greaser." They were armed with car1)ines, re\xil\ers ami sabres - lite \er\- best weapons the times afforded. It was near Pueblo that this regiment encountered three thousand Mexican lancers or cavalry and they went at them like a tornado. Terriljle ha\-oc ensued, the Mexican loss lieing more than the whole .-\merican force engaged. There was also an infantry fight which the .Americans easily won. There was only one oilier point that sto(jd in their way to the City of Mexico, Molino-del-Rev. or Chaiiuhepec. There the rangers were dismounted and fornieil jiart of the storming part\- under the ljra\-e and

McLane long afterward said that he had been in one hundred and one battles and skirmishes during the Civil War, but that none of them were as hotly contested as the battle and storming of Molino-del-Rey. Mexico City fell next, and the rangers took great delight in tearing down the dismal prison that some of them had been forced to help build while prisoners in former times.

The war over, McLane came back with Scott's army to New Orleans where he remained for a few months. In 1848 he went to Yazoo City, where he was overseer on a sugar plantation for a time, but the job was not to his liking, and he started for his old home in Salem, where he arrived on December I, 1848, and of course was the hero of the hour. He was content to kad a quiet life on the farm until the breaking out of the Civil War, he then being forty-two years of age. He enlisted with Capt. James B. Glover in ihe Thirty-eighth Indiana for three years. He served his time out and then ''veteranized'" until the close of the war and was honorablby discharged on May 26, 1865. During all this term of service McLane was wounded but once and that was at Murfreesboro, Tennessee, December 31, 1862. He was putting a cap on his gun when a bullet struck the stock of his gun and went through it, through his cap-box, belt-plate, overcoat, belt-strap and clothing, and then followed the lining of the abdomen around and came out over the hi];, which necessitated his lieing laid in the hospital for a few weeks. He was made a prisoner at Jonesboro, Tennessee, September i, 1864, when he was sent to Anderson\ille prison, where he remained until December 29, following, when he was exchanged and rejoined his regiment. He was mustered out as a corporal. From the time he first left Salem in 1836 he was engaged in o\er two hundred battles and skirmishes. Very few men ever had a more varied experience in war than McLane, but he came through it all witli honnr unsullied, finally to close his eventful career in an unfortunate traged}", the full particulars of which will never be known, as his side of the affair was never told.

On the morning of October 11, 1881, word was sent to Salem that John Arnold, of Cani]ili''lMnirg, had been shot at liis farm, about eight miles north- west of town, and that Bascom McLane had done the deed. McLane lived upon the farm and boarded Arnold and his men. The report was that Arnold has arisen early and awoke McLane, saying he was in a hurry to finish sowing wheat and wanted breakfast as soon as it could be gotten and then went out to the barn to assist in feeding and harnessing the teams. Upon returning to the house he found McLane still in bed, and some words followed between them. No one knows what was said by either party, but the quarrel ended by McLane shooting Arnold in the bowels with a shot gun. McLane immediately secured his coat and cane and left the premises. Neighbors were notified of what had happened ; a physician was called and forty-two shots we t taken from the wound. Arnold lived but a few hours afterward. A sho. t time after McLane left the farm a posse started in pursuit. It was not difficult to trace him as he had kept in the plain road leading towards Salem some fifteen miles from Arnold's farm. About ten o'clock they came upon him some four miles west of Salem, at the residence of Isaiah Dennis. A couple of little girls were the only members of the family at home. McLane showed himself at a window with a gun in hand, which he had picked up in the house, and made motion as if he intended to shoot, but this gun proved afterward to have been empty. The posse demanded McLane's surrender and he refused to do so. A one-armed deputy named Smedley opened the door, whereupon McLane assaulted him with his cane. Smedley, and possibly some of the others, then fired several shots at McLane and retreated. By this time a number of persons had surrounded the house and one of the little girls came to the door and said the man was shot and lying on the floor. The house was then entered and in an upstairs room McLane was found on the floor in a dying condition. He asked them to raise him up and immediately expired. He had been riddled by bullets. .An empty gun lay by his side. There was no doubt that he was on his way to Salem to surrender himself to the proper authorities, and would have done so if he had not been so hotly pursued. Public sympathy was mostly with Arnold and the general \'erdict was that McLane got his just deserts.

The Joseph-Gallahan Murder Case

A somewhat notable and exciting murder trial took place at the September term of court in Salem in 1879. Tliomas Joseph was charged with the willful and malicious murder of William Gallahan, of Brown township. The shooting occured about half past five o'clock, the 7th of September, Gallahan receiving a mortal wound from the effects of which Jie died about eight o'clock that evening. The evidence at the trial brought out the following facts in regard to the killing. Thomas Joseph was a young man, twenty-one years of age, a native of Lawrence county, Ohio. He had no parents living. He was about six feet high, rather slenderly built, fair skin, light blue and expressionless eye and fine light hair. In point of intellect he was below the average. He bore no marks upon his face that would indicate him to be a murderer or desperate man when duly sober. He was very reticent and it was impossible to get him to enter into anything like a general conversation upon any subject. After his arrest and during his entire trial he did not seem to realize his condition, appeared entirely emotionless, ate heartily and slept well and did not seem to be bothered about anything excepting that he did not like the frequent calls that were made by visitors.

Joseph came to this state about four months before he committed the murder. He was a good farm-hand and found employment on the Wilcox farm, across White river. On Sunday, September 7, 1879, directly after dinner Joseph came o\er into Washington county with Thale Wilcox. His mission was to pay his sweetheart a visit. They had along with them a bottle of whisky and drank pretty freely of the same. They came together as far as Mt. Carmel, when they separated, Joseph starting for William Hamilton's, where he expected to find his girl. By the time he got to Hamilton's he was tolerably drunk. He dismounted, hitched his horse and went swaggering into the house. Upon incjuir}- he found that his girl was not at home and was told that she had gone to William Callahan's, which served to exasperate him, and he amused himself a few minutes kicking down doors and fired his pistol off in the house.

After remaining at Hamilton's about twenty minutes he went out, mounted his horse and started north along the public road. He had gone but a few rods till he met Callahan, who had started to Campbellsburg after a doctor for a sick neighbor. As they approached each other a halt was made, a few words passed between them, which none of the witnesses who saw the shooting could hear, and Joseph drew out his revolver and began to sling it around in a reckless sort of way. Callahan was heard to say something about putting up the pistol, when Joseph began shooting, and fired four or five shots, three of which struck Callahan, one in the right eye, one in the shoulder and another - the fatal one - in the abdomen. Callahan then rode down to Hamilton's, and was helped into the house, where he died in about two and one-half hours.

over with Joseph as far as Mt. Carmel, returned home as soon as he heard of the murder, and found Joseph in bed asleep. He went silently into the room and got Joseph's pistol out of his pocket without disturbing him, and then kept guard until the arrival of the officers, who took Joseph in charge. He did not seem to know that he had committed any crime, and when told what he had done said he remembered nothing about it whatever; that the last thing he could recall was the parting with Wilcox the day before at Carmel.

Fear Of Mob Violencf

Joseph was taken before the justice at Campbellslmrg, and after a shurt preliminary examination was ordered to jail to await the action of the grand jur)'. Sheriff Fultz, having heard of the shooting, put in an appearance about this time, and having been informed that a mob was being formed to hang Joseph, started with him to Salem as fa'^t as his team cnuld travel. Sure enough, in less than a half hour, the mol) started in pursuit. Imt the prisoner was safely landed in jail and a heavy guard was stationed in and around the [jrison to see that order was maintained and thai the law slK.nild --:,. e its course. The following morning Joseph was removed to Xew Allirmy :i)r safekeeping, where he remained until (Jctoher jo, when he wa:- rcuirne I to Salem and ]mt on trial.

It was feared that the mob would deal suniniaril\- with him, and a 'arue j o^~se was summoned to guard the ])risoner uium his arrival. It w;is a w,-e ]);c 'antion, as angr}- men were luunerous when the train pulled in. ;uid cries ol "bang him" were heard all through the crowd. Joseph was taken directlv lo the court house and arraigned uiion the indictment, and entered a plea of not guill}-. Having neither money nor friends, Sam li. Hoyles was ordered by the judge to defend him. The court house was literally jammed with people, all anxious to get a look at the prisoner and hear the trial. The trial proceeded at (mce without an\- quibbling or effort to take ad\antage of technicalities. Joseph might lune been jjrruited a cb;inge of \fiiue upon good grounds, owing to the excitemeiU atid prejudice ;igainst bitn. but tliiwas not asked. The general opimon \\a^ that Jove]ih ought to be and woiil 1 be hanged, .and this state of facts would ba\e coiuinued if it h.ad not been for the \ery foolish acts of the lawless niol). The law-abidmg people .leered that Josejih should ha\ e a fair and im])arti:il trial, and the lawle-s ;utempt made by the mob to get bold of the prisoner created sym])ath\ ;in(l friend^ for him.

Prisoner Saved By A Ruse

The following night Joseph was taken to jail and about twenty citizens were summoned to guard the prison, but the sheriff being informed that the mob was preparing to pay them a visit that night, had the prisoner secretly taken out of the jail and concealed in the woods some distance from town. About ten o'clock the firebell was rung, which was the signal that the mob had come. The whole town was out in a few minutes. The vigilantes repaired to the jail and very unexpectedly met with no resistance. The doors were battered down, but Joseph could not be found, and, not knowing anything of his whereabouts, they departed very much disgruntled. Thursday the trial was continued without any interference and the jury took the case late in the evening. Anticipating further trouble the judge ordered the prisoner to be returned to New Albany until the jury had agreed upon a verdict. On their way to the depot an effort was made to take Joseph from the officers and guards, but, seeing that the men who had charge were determined to protect him, they desisted from their purpose and he was safely put aboard the train.

The authorities, feeling that it was unsafe to return to Salem without some protection for the prisoner, appealed to Governor Williams for fifty state troops. .Accordingly a company of the Indianapolis Light Infantry was sent to New .-\lbany, P>iday evening, under command of Colonel Ruckle. The prisoner was placed between the troops and marched to the depot, where a special train was in waiting,' and at 8 :30 o'clock they arrived in Salem. The jury had not yet agreed upon a verdict, and the prisoner was put in jail, the soldiers remaining on guard. This move had a tendency to dampen the enthusiam of the niol) leaders and they were not heard from again till the trial ended. The jury was out till Saturday afternoon at four o'clock. They had consumed a great deal more time in reaching a conclusion than expected. They were about evenly divided on hanging and life sentence. The court house was thronged with spectators eager to hear what was to Secome of Josei:)h. The troops brought the prisoner up from the jail, and he was seated inside the bar to hear his doom. Throughout the trial of the case the prisoner maintained an apparent stolid indifference as to his fate. The verdict read : "We, the jury, find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree, as charged in the indictment, and fix his punishment at imiirisonment in the state ])ris(in for life."

him in charge of the mihtia, and he was taken to Jettersonville on the evening train. The verdict of the jury gave general satisfaction among the lawabiding people of the county, while the mob was very much displeased. The trial was a fair and impartial one, justice was meted out and the count)' was not disgraced by a resort to mob violence. Had it not been for whisky the life of a good man and exemp'-irv neighbor would not have been sacrihced, nor would a young man ha\e had the prison doors closed behind him without hope of ever breathing "/ee air again.

The Wood-Kepley Murder And Suicide

In the early spring of 1836 a lone traveler in search of work, and perhaps a new home, came into the county and stopped at the home of George Kepley, near Martinsburg and desired something to eat and lodging. His name was Daniel Wood. Kepley was a man of generous habits, a kind disposition and had a kind and affectionate wife and family. Wood was taken in and made to feel that he was a w^elcome guest. It was fashionable then to have a jug or keg of whisky in most every home and guests were always asked to participate. Wood was somewhat addicted to drinking, as was also Kepley and they both drank quite freely that night; in fact they kept on imbibing until sleep involuntarily overcame them and they were assisted to bed. The next morning the drinking was renewed and both became considerably intoxicated.

All went well for some hours between them, but during the day they had some words and Kepley fancied that Wood "had insulted his daughter, who was just budding into womanhood. A serious quarrel arose between them. Kepley's wife slipped in and tried to settle the difficulty and both men seemed to regain their senses in a measure. Wood went out to look after his horse and while he was gone Kepley took down his rifle and saw that it was loaded. His wife feared trouble was brewing and tried to get him to put the rifle back, but this he refused to do and started out of the house. He stopped a few minutes in the yard and as Wood came out of the barn Kepley took deliberate aim and shot him through the bowels, from the effects of which he died in a short time.

The shooting occurred on March 26, 1836. Kepley was arrested and an indictment was returned against him for murder. The trial commenced on April i, 1836. The case was hotly contested, Henry P. Thornton being counsel for the defense and Charles Dewey was prosecutor. Of the latter it was said by the Hon. Charles Wickliff, of Kentucky, who at one time came over to Washington county to conduct the defense in a murder case in which Dewey was prosecuting, that no man's Hfe was safe while Dewey was prosecutor. At the trial Keple}'s daughter was put upon the witness stand against her father, to prove that she had not been insulted. What feelings must have been hers, as with a \oice broken by sobs and choked by emotion, she had to speak the truth which she knew in reason would consign her father to the scaffold. It was a sad day for the wife as she sat there feeling that her husband's case was hopeless.

Tlie jury found that Kepley was guilty as charged and he was sentenced to be hanged on Friday the 7th of June. 1836. In pronouncing the sentence of death, Judge Thompson was much overcome and wept freely, and when he concluded with the invocation, "May the Lord have mercy on your soul," the condemned man responded in a loud, clear, distinct tone, "Amen."' Kepley was again let down through the trapdoor into the old log jail, there to brood over his troubles for two long months in that miserably dark hole before the day of execution rolled round. His attorneys appealed his case to the Supreme Court, and it was thought that there was good grounds for having a new trial granted. Before the case was reached Kepley committed suicide by making a noose out of his bedclothes and hanging himself to the iron grating of the one small window that gave light and air to the prison cell.

No one was ever legally hanged in Washington county, Kepley being the only one who ever received the death sentence for the commission of :rime. Ever after this occurrence it was said that the old jail was haunted by Kepley's ghost, and many who contemplated the commission of crime were no doubt kept in the straight and narrow path by the thought of possible imprisonment alone in this doleful pen. This sad case, in which two lives were blotted out like nine-tenths of all other heinous crimes ever committed in the county, was the result of overindulgence in strong drink.

Mattox Desperadoes

Some time during the latter part of the Civil War there came into Washington county from Kentucky a family of refugees - Edward Mattox, together with three or four stalwart sons. They had a pitiful tale to tell about how they had been run out of that country by Rebels and had come into Indiana for protection. They gained the sympathy of some thoughtless persons who took them under their protecting wing. The facts in the case were that they were a gang of outlaws and among their many acts of lawless- ness had murdered a man named Brothers of Washington county, Kentucky, and had escaped from jail while awaiting trial. A standing reward was offered for Alattox, by his native county. He had located himself back among the hills of Monr.'C township, in an out-of-the-way place surrounded on all sides by forest. How the family eked out an existence was left to surmise, for they scarcely ever did any real labor.

Detectives came into the county several times on the trail of these refugees, but could not locate them. Finally Sheriff Jones, of Floyd county, and policemen Kendall and Matlock of New Albany took the matter in hand, and securing a proper warrant and requisition from Governor Baker, of Indiana, came to Salem in search of the fugitive. Here they secured the aid of Sheriff Craycraft, who had located the Mattoxs, and the posse proceeded thither to take the old man in custody. They knew he was a desperate character and had said that he would never be taken alive. They arrived at his shanty about two o'clock, I'Viday morning, yiay 24, 1872.

As soon as dawn approached they quietly walked up to the cabin and rapped at the door. The miscreants were constantly on their guard and armed ready for any emergency. It was some minutes before the door was partly opened by one of the boys with gun in hand, inquiring what was wanted. The officers at once forced their wav into the room, overturning a barrel of vinegar which stood against the door. The room was dark, there being no window in it. It could be seen that there were three beds and several persons standing round armed with guns and pistols. The old man had taken refuge under one of the beds. His family afterwards stated that he was expecting to be arrested, Inn was determined to sell his life as dearly as possible. The officers tlemandeil the surrender of Mattox, but were told he would not be taken. They then started toward the bed under which Mattox had taken refuge, when the inmates of the house rushed upon them. While this struggle was going on, the bed under which ]\lattox had taken refuge was torn down, but he managed to get under another. This too was u])Sft, liut the i'\(\ man shifted under the lied where his sick wife w;is lying. Not desiring tn disturb the sick wmuan. Sheriff Junes made an attempt to reach under the bed and drag out the des])era(lo, but just as he was seen bending down, ^vlattox lired upon him, shattering his ri^ht arm in ri frightful manner. A numlier of shots were exchanged, when Jone^ said, "I'x^ys, 1 am shot," and he ortlered them to get mU of the hou-e and s;i\l- themsehes.

.-\fter getting out of the imuse the Mattox-, fired ^everal shots at the retreating officers, but luckily none took effect. JoiK-^ w,-ilked but a few rn,U when he fell from exhaustion and loss of blood. He was carried down the ravine, a distance of nearl}- two miles, to the nearest place where a conveyance could be procured to carry him to Salem. His arm was so badly torn that it had to be amputated near the shoulder.

The following day a large party was started back to the scene of the encounter to capture, if possible, all those who had participated in the shooting. The old lady, some children and one of the boys, with a bullet hole through his wrist, were the only ones left. The rest had gone, no one knew whither. The country was scoured for miles around, but no trace of the fugitives was ever found. The family left in a few weeks and were never heard from again.

Killing Of Frank Pitts

The Pitts' were among the earliest settlers in the county and were good, industrious people. But the Colonel, as Frank was familiarly known, was considerable of a clown, and som.etimes was addicted to drink. When soljer, he was always jolly and good-natured ; but when rum got control of him he was always hunting trouble, and not unfrequently found it. On the night of June i, 1874, he was inbibing a little too freely and concluded he would have a scrap with Newland Tyler, a mere boy, who was usually a harmless fellow and attended strictly to his own business. They first got into an altercation down near the depot, in Salem, when Pitts attacked Tyler, threw him down and proceeded to give him a choking. Tyler then got up and said he was going to have him arrested and started up Main street towards the court house. Pitts got ahead of Tyler and when about half way up the street from the station to the court house, he turned and asked Tyler what he was following him for. Tyler replied that he was attending tn his own business and started to pass around Pitts, telling him that he would strike him if he didn't let him alone. Then Pitts gave Tyler a shove, sending him backwards into the street. As Tyler rose he picked up a stone which he threw at Pitts hitting him in the back of the head. The blow proved fatal - Pitts staggered over and fell upon the pavement a dead man.

The \-er(lict of the coroner's jury was that the deceased came to his death by a blow with a rock in the hands of Tyler. The case was taken before the grand jury which found an indictment of manslaughter against Tyler. Being poor and having few influential friends, the trial was a short one. He was sentenced to the penitentiar\- for a term nf two years.

On February u, 1S74, a man wlm ya\e his name as John Iverby, a stranger in Salem, was ruii over b)- a freis^ht train at the bridge across Highland creek, one mile west of Salem, and fatally mjured. As Kerby started across the bridge the train coming south around the cur\e came upon him before he was aware and while attempting to get out of the way the engine struck him, the trucks passing over his left leg, severing the foot almost entirely, and inflicting some ugly cuts and bruises about the head. He was picked up and brought to Salem, where his leg was amputated, and being without mcjney or friends he was sent to the county as_\-lum, where he died on the iCith of February. He was about lifty years of age, but gave no information concerning his home or people.

Davis-Scholl Homicide

On September 8, 1881, a tragedy was enacted at "Hell's Half Acre," in Franklin township, which resulted in the death of Anthony Scholl. Marshal Davis was the proprietor of a wagon making and repair shop. He was considered a sober, industrious, hard-working mechanic. Scholl was not a bad man when sober, but when under the influence of whisky was considered dangerous. About six weeks before the shooting took place Scholl took a wagon wheel to Davis" shop to ha\e it repaired, borrowing a wheel from Davis to use till his own wheel was mended.

Some days prior to the aft'ray Scholl sent Davis si.x dollars to apply on his account anil ordered the wheel repaired at once. A few days later Scholl came t(j the shop after the wheel in a state uf iiUoxication and acting very nutcli like a madman. He .said he had come after his wheel for the last time, and demanded back the money he had paid Davis. The latter remonstrated with him for awhile, telling him that he would settle up with him as soon as he cooled off; but Scholl waxed wiiith all the moi'e furiously and would listen to no sort of terms of pacification. He had a hea\y cane in his hand when he entered the shop, and stood between Da\is and the door. After abusing Davis for some time he seized a large hammer and struck at Davis, who dodged the blow and jumped out of the window in the side of the shop and started for his house about thirty yards distant.

His family l^eing away from home the door was locked. Securing the key he went in and procured a re\'ol\-er and retm-ned to the door. Scholl had followed him with the hammer in one hand and cane in the other. He scaled the yard fence, cursing and swearing that he would kill Davis, with every breath. Davis called to several persons who were present to take him away, but no one came to his rescue, or offered to interfere, and he then told Scholl that if he came any further he would shoot him. Davis was then standing on his doorstep. Some of the bystanders told Davis not to shoot, but they made no effort to take Scholl away. Scholl paid .no attention to Davis's warning, but bolted straightway for the door. Davis stepped back into the door and when Scholl was about six feet distant, raised his pistol and fired, the ball striking School above the left ear, entermg the brain and killing him instantly.

School was left there till the next morning when hi iriends took away his remains for burial. Davis started to leave the country, but on the following Monday morning came to Salem and surrendered himself to the proper authorities. At a preliminary examination before a justice he was recognized to court. The grand jury presented an indictment against Davis for manslaughter, but at the final trial of the case he was exonerated and discharged from custody.

Collins-Pitts Murder

At the March term of the Washington circuit court, 1837, William Collins was arraigned and tried for the murder of Abner Pitts. On the 12th of December, 1836, Collins met Aaron Cox on Booth's corner, lot 8, on the north side of the public square, and began to abuse him because he had asked him for money for beef he had sold him. Pitts was standing close by and said he believed that Collins was a liar, taking Cox's part. Collins said to Pitts, "I want nothing to do with you," and walked east to Gelwick's store on the opposite corner, Pitts directly passed by with Elwood Trueblood and went into Wade's store, on lot 9, and was sitting there when Collins came in and again began to abuse Cox. Pitts again spoke up and told Collins, "You must not make such false charges against Cox, for he and I are partners, and I'll have that money drawn out of you." Collins kept on with his abuse of Cox, when Pitts said, with an oath, "You must not talk so of Cox or I will knock you where Collins' are only ninety dollars a thousand." To which Collins replied, "If I had you where I had as many friends as you have and where I could get fair play, I would give you what you have long deser\ed." Wade then interfered and bade them behave themselves or lea\e the house, when Collins went away.

These two altercations were early in the evening and no one who heard them were apprehensive of any mischief, believing Pitts to be in fun, as both were considerably intoxicated. Collins then went out and met with McLane, and invited him to go Uj Arnold, who kept a grocery on the square. Nothing was said about the quarrel on the way. At Arnold's Collins called for a glass of whiskv. ]\IcLane took a drink and Collins drank the balance. In a short time, Pitts and Trueblood came into Arnold's, and sitting down on one side of the fireplace engaged for a time in conversation with ^Irs. Arnold, who was sitting on the right hand side of the fire. McLane sat nearly in front of the fire, Collins standing by his side. Pitts got up and walked back from the fire, passing between McLane and Collins, laying his hand on Collins' arm. Collins then gave back in order to let Pitts pass and his feet struck some firewood that was piled up. and he fell over on the wood. As he arose he picked up a stick of the wood and said to Pitts, "D - n you, don't you come near me." Pitts was going on toward the counter and appeared not to hear Collins. Arnold told Collins to lay down the stick, that he would have no trouble in his house, and he threw it down.

Result Of A Drunken Brawl

Pitts then came back and was standing before the fire, seemingly in a good humor, when Collins struck him. Pitts said, 'A\'hat are you striking me for, I liave nothing against _\ou." Arnokl interfered and the two were separated. Trueblood then spoke and said, to Collins, "He struck him with a knife." Collins denied that he had a knife. Trueblood said, "I saw you strike him with a knife, and you put it in your right hand pocket." Collins was then searched and the knife found, and on opening the blade it v>-as found to be bloody up to the handle. Pitts was examined and it was found that he had received two wounds on the body, one in the middle of the breast, just above the pit of the stomach. The other wound was less serious. Pitts continued to laugh and said he did not know what Collins struck him for, to which Collins replied, "Because you have been imposing on me." In about five minutes Pitts fell over in a faint.

Doctor Bradley was called and examined the wound, but could not tell whether the knife had entered the cavity of the chest or not, although the wound seemed to be about four inches in depth, .\fter Pitts revived he walked about three hundred yards to his brother Levi's, when his wound was dressed bv Doctors Bradlev and Xewland. He lingered for eighteen

Collins was arrested and put upon trial for murder. The doctors could not say positively that the wound was the cause of Pitts's death, not having opened the body after death, but it was their opinion that the wound was the exciting cause of death. They also stated that they did not consider it safe at any time to remove Pitts to his father's house, which was only one-quarter of a mile off. Collins's -counsel made great exertion to make it appear that Pitts did not die from the effects of the wounds. The case was hotly contested, but in two hours after the jury got it they returned a verdict sentencing Collins to the penitentiary for ten years.

At the time of his death Pitts was under indictment for assault and battery with intent to kill, on a young man named Phelps, who afterward died. The indictment had been returned on April 28, 1836, but the case had been continued several times, and of course was abated in consequence of Pitts' death.

Grindstaff Shoots John Starr

On the 3d of May, 1875, a serious affray took p.lace in Monroe township, Washington county, between Henry Grindstaff and John Starr, which resulted in the death of the latter. A misunderstanding had existed between the two men for some time. Both men had made threats about what they intended to do to the other fellow and for a time they steered clear of each other. Upon the above date Starr visited the field where Grindstaff was at work, and according to the tale of Grindstaff, told him he had come to kill him or be killed. Grindstaff told him he was unarmed, that he was ready and willing to settle their little affair most any way to avoid trouble, and after talking together a while, it was agreed that they would drop the matter and sav no more about it.

The matter having been amicably settled as they thought, Grindstaff invited Starr to take dinner with him, which he did. After partaking of the hospitality thus extended it seems that Starr was bound to have trouble and began (jnarreling again, and in the heat of passion pulled out his pistol and made an attempt to shoot Grindstaff, but was prevented from so doing by Gri:uiitaff's wife, who pleaded with him to desist from his murderous desipns. and finally succeeded in getting him to give her his pistol. Again the difficulty was talked over, and as was supposed, satisfactorily settled. Starr agreed to go home and behave himself and upon these conditions his pistol was given back to him and he left the house. Grindstaff followed him to the door to watch his movements. When about half way to the front gate, some ten paces from the house, Starr turned about and was in the act of drawing his pistol, when Grindstaff, seeing that he was compelled to defend himself, shot him lead on the spot.

Grindstaff made no effort to get away, saying that he would surrender to the proper officer if necessary. Grindstaff 's story of the shooting, corroborated by his wife, was at the time deemed sufficient evidence to warrant the jury, at the inquest the following day. to return a verdict exonerating Grindstaff from all blame in the matter. Public opinion at the time seemed to justify Grindstaff in thus defending himself, and no immediate steps were taken to investigate it farther.

A Bluff That Almost Worked

About two months after the shooting some of Grindstaff's neighbors had reason to suspect that there had been dirty work done which had been kept concealed. All the stories related about the affair by Grindstaff and his wife did not exactly correspond, and they therefore determined to have the matter investigated by the court. .\n affidavit being filed before the Salem magistrate. Justice Cooper, Grindstaff came to town and surrendered himself to the proper authorities, waived a preliminary examination, and gave bond for his appearance at the next term of court. The case being taken before the grand jury an indictment was returned for murder in the second degree, and GrindstaiT was required to give bond for his appearance at a later day in said term of court. A few days later Grindstaff boarded the north bound train at Salem, saying he was going to Bedford to employ an attorney - but he never got hack. When the case was called the defendant failed to put in an appearance and his liondsmen had to pay the fixe hundred dollars forfeiture. The sureties offered a reward of eleven hundred dollars for his capture and return and detectives were put on his track, but they never succeeded in running liini down.

Public opinion changed against him and there were \"ery few persons cognizant of the facts, as had been develn]ied by the investigation, who entertained any doubt about his having killed Starr purposely and with malice aforethought. As Starr was leaving, as he had agreed to do in a peaceable manner, he was shot down by Grindstaff when he was little dreaming that he was in imminent peril. Grindstaff was generally considered a hardened sort of fighting character. He had ^howti a ready disposition to liave the case legally investigated, until he saw that tiie jirosecution had employed able counsel and proposed prosecuting him in earnest ; when he got scared and fled the country rather than face the charge and take his chances on the result.

A Double Tragedy

Among the bright and shining lights brought up and educated in the old Washington County Seminary was one >\Iilas K. Young. His father, James Young, was one of the early settlers and a man of considerable note. Wilas K. was in business in Salem for several years and accumulated some means, but had some reverses in fortune that left him badly in debt. He moved to the northwest locating on a farm that had been entered by Josiah F. Perrin, near Glen Haven, Wisconsin. He and Perrin had married sisters. He left Indiana about 1848. For a number of years, and up to the time of his death, he lived upon and operated this farm.

Milas K. "^'oung had four children, three boys and a girl. Albert was the eldest child. Mr. Young always felt a deep interest in the education of his children, in fact the education of the masses was always a matter near his heart. Through his instrumentality the first school house on "the prairie" was built. He became a very prominent character in the county; was a member of the Legislature and state Senate a number of times; was spoken of for Congress, and no doubt higher positions would have been reached if his shoulders had not been borne down by the burden of home life.

There was a lack of harmony in the private lives of himself and his wife. It grew out of her inattention to the duties of her share in th matrimonial partnershi]). She was not a helpmeet - was on the other hand a heavy load to the kind, indulgent husband. He toiled early and late, and coming home, would find himself compelled to cook his own supper or go to bed hungry. 'J'liis sort of treatment had been kept up so long and he had been so patient about it that the children never discovered that there was a wrong in it.

When through with school Albert selected the "newspaper" profession for his life work and spent two years among the types in the Lancaster Herald office. Tiring of this he returned home, remaining idle most of the time. Finally the father sent him away, but not empty handed. He came back to Salem and for a time visited among his relatives. He then worked a short time in the Democrat office, and through his folks got a clerkship in D. Lyons' dry goods store. Here he remained for almost a voar. He was very sociable and quite popular among the young folks ; was quite a beau among Salem"s popular belles. But he tired of Salem and went to Louisville and .secured a position as reporter on the Courier-Journal and was highly spoken of. He also became connected with a real estate agency, lived high, but complications of some sort sent him away. He retreated to the paternal mansion. The brothers opened up a store in Glen Haven. They were not successful ind debts soon crowded them. Time and again the father indorsed for them. His name would get credit fur anything, ahhough it was understood he had title to nothing.

Soon after this there was correspondence by "the boys" and mother with Perrin here in Salem as to settling the title to the property in them. Lite was advancing and Perrin wanted the settlement also. With Mr. Young's assistance the matter was adjusted and Perrin "(luit-claimed" to ?vlrs. Young. The boys now tried to borrow a large sum of money by mortgaging the farm, but could find no capital that would risk the complication.

The beginning of serious difficulty arose out of an attempted interference of Albert with improvements Mr. Young was having done mi the house. Albert felt that he was now master of the situation, and there was a concerted attempt made to drive the old man awa\-. The father undertook to head ofif their acts of usurpation and a Ivrawl ensued. He took an ax away from Albert, but in the struggle was thrown and in some way was badly cut and bruised on the back of the head. The matter leaked out some way and nearly got into the courts, but at the earnest solicitation of the old gentleman the matter was hushed. The boys' next move was to get money on fraudulent paper. The fraud was detected and Albert was about to be arrested.

Son Shoots His Father

On Friday, May 14, 1875, the two younger boys went away to secure a settlement of the fraudulent paper. Albert remained at the store. About nine o'clock in the morning he left a substitute, and walked out U> his father's, approaching the house through the woods. In the kitchen he learned from the servant girl that his father was in his room, and the mother in her's. He tried his father's door and found it locked. He went out and sat for nearly an hour on a hand cart, when he went again and tried his father's door. Finding it still locked, he kicked and jammed at it until the d(")or gave way. The father retreated through another door and started to escape by the yard gate, but was intercepted by Albert, at the corner of tlie house, with a pistol in his hand. He threw up his hands and cried, "Oh. Albert! don't shoot:" Albert fired at him with his "five-shooter" as fast as he could empty its contents. The father screamed, "Murder, help, Oh Albert!" with a painfully agonizing voice. He also had a revolver and fired one shot, which ran under the skin around Albert's abdomen. The father fell on his back, when the sun put the pistol to his head and discharged his fifth cartridge into it. lie then picked up a hatchet and pounded his head with it, breaking the skull at every stroke.

Some neighbors at work in a nearby field heard the noise and came m. Albert ran into the woods a short distance back of the house and stopped to investigate his wound. Seeing he could not escape he put another cartridge into his pistol, put the muzzle to the side of his head and shot himself through the brain, dying instantly.

The father had an old dog, always with him, always faithful. He had been heard to say that the only friend he had at his home was his dog. When neighbors arrived at the scene this dog was licking his wounds. His hand was reaching up and stroking the dog's back. In about fifteen minutes he regained consciousness and talked a little for half an hour. The last thing he remembered was that Albert put the pistol to his head and snapped it, but didn't know whether he shot him or not. He said, "Albert had tried to kill him and ought to be hung." He was then told that Albert had shot himself, to which he responded, "It is a blessing to the community." He was then asked if he could swallow some medicine, and answered, as his last words, "I will try." His consciousness was gone but he lingered until Sunday afternoon. Mrs. Young remained in her room and did not go near him. The boys were there, but acted very much as disinterested spectators.

An inquest upon the body found two bullets in the Ijrain and one had passed through the left wrist. His funeral on Monday was attended by thousands. Albert was buried on Saturday morning in a field two hundred yards from the house - neighbors objecting to putting him in the public burying ground.

Such is the strange commentary on the life of this good and kind-hearted man. His youthful career was begun by participating in debates at the old Salem Seminary on the capital punishment question. Reason, moral suasion, kind treatment, were his hobbies, and during his whole life he endeavored to educate ]ie(iple in the belief that capital punishment was barbarous, little dreaming of the cruel treatment that was in store for him or the horrible death that was to bring him to an untimely end, and this at the hand of a fiendish brute of a son.

Delos Heffren S Career

About the year 1845 Elijali Ileffren emigrated from Xew York state to Indiana, locating on a farm one mile east of Salem, on the Canton ruad. His wife was a sister of Col. C. L. Dunham, a man of considerable note in his day throughout southern Indiana. There were two boys in the Hefifren family, Horace and Delos, who were [iruminent characters in Washington county for a number of years. They were buth smart but injudicious and lacking in moral stamina.

Delos Heffren was particularly addicted to vice, and wielded a great influence among his associates for evil. He was a man about six feet tall, and a giant in strength. Ordinarily he was quite affable and an acknowledged leader among the class of persons with whom he was accustomed to mingle. He was fairly well educated and had many opportunities to become a useful man but failed to improve them. In 1859 he was given the position of deputy secretary of ^tate. under his uncle. Colonel Dunham, but failed to make good on account of his debauchery and when admonished by his superior that he must leave off his bad habits or go home, he dew into a passion and attacked his uncle with a knife, indicting some very serious wounds upon his person that came very near being fatal. For this crime he was indicted, but was not prosecuted very persistently and went free. In September, 1861, he was active in organizing a company for the Civil War, being made a second lieutenant. He made a good soldier and was honorably discharged.

Just before the close of the war Wm. b^hnson built a two-story brick on the alley on the northwest corner of the public S(|uare, and used it for a saloon. He had a son \\'illiam R., who was a reckless fellow \ery much like HeiYren. Both were rivals for the hand of a Miss Samira Godfrey, and Johnson won out. Heffren vowed vengeance and sought an O])portunity to get satisfaction. On the evening of .-\ugu.st 13, 1866, be armed himself and went to Johnson's saloon and was not long in bringing nratters to an issue. There were three Johnsons in the salo<in at the time - the old gentleman. \-oung Bill ;ni(l \'j\. .\ numlier of ^hots were exchanged. \\"illiam R. was killed on the spot. F.d received a slight wound, and Heffren carried a bullet away with him but the wound wa< not serious. .\ rigorous prosecution was instituted against Heffren. his plea bcins^- self-defense. C. 1.. Dunham was leading cmniscl f(ir the defense, and 1)\- '^u])erhuman eft'ort succeeded in getting a verdict of accjuittal for the defendant. Soiue time afterward

Heftren married Johnson's widow. She seemed to be in for misfortune, for after Heffren's death she married Horace Launis, who committed suicide. A short time after his acquittal HefTren opened up a saloon on the old Alalot corner, on the south side of the square. This was headquarters for the toughs who were ready at all times to do their chief's bidding. Heffren never went out after dark without an escort, as Ed Johnson, brother to the murdered man, had vowed vengeance against Heffren, and was always seeking an opportunity to shoot him. Heffren continued to be a terror to the community as long as he was a free man, but a brutal murder brought his career to a sudden close.

An Encounter Fatal To John Dehalstead

On Friday evening, June 20, 1873, John DeHalstead, who had been drinking a little too freely, became somewhat boisterous and got into a quarrel with Heffren. He drew a pocket knife and threatened to use it on Heffren, who ordered him out of the saloon. DeHalstead went out but was gone but a little while when he was seen crossing Main street with a couple of stones in his hands. Heffren was informed of his approach, and immediately stepped out of the front door of the saloon with a revolver in his hand, stopping at the corner of the saloon, and facing DeHalstead, whom he ordered to halt or he would shoot him. DeHalstead paid no attention to the warning but walked ahead, when Heffren fired upon him, he then Ijeing some four or five paces distant. DeHalstead then threw a stone at Heffren, and a second shot was fired. DeHalstead still advancing, threw a second stone, which Heft'ren dodged. By this time the parties were in close <|uarters and Heffren fired a third shot, when DeHalstead started to run, but Heffren was right upon him and before he had retreated more than three paces the fourth and fatal shot was fired - the ball entering in the back near the left shoulder blade, penetrating lungs and heart. Heffren then seized the dying man by the collar and inliicted a number of heavy blows with his jfistol about the head and face of DeHalstead, who sank lifeless to the earth. .Although but a few feet apart none of the shots took effect but the last one. A number of persons witnessed the shooting. Heffren made no effort to escape, but leisurely walked back into the saloon seemingly as unconcerned as if nothing had occurred. The sheriff was fearful that Heffren would resist arrest, but lie was persuaded to peaceably go to jail.

The grand jury being in session inquired into the case the following morning and was not long in returning an indictment against Heffren for mur- der in the first degree. He was arraigned and entered a plea of not guilty. The first move upon the part of his attorneys was to get a change of venue to another county. Fearing that Heffren might again evade punishment, through efforts of able ai'orneys. rumors were suuii heard that a vigilance committee was likely to take the matter in hand, but up<.)n the face of things these seemed to be without foundation. Small kncits of men could be seen on the streets discussing the probable outcome of the affair and a few strangers were leisurely strolling about the town. \"ery few, if any, of the good citizens of the place knew anything about the drift of the undercurrent, which seemed to portend evil for the much-talked-of prisoner.

Ere the dawn of Sunday morning, June 29. people were aroused from their quiet slumbers with the startling intelligence that the lifeless body was hanging at the arched l)ridge. .\s the news spread crowds of persons gathered at the jail and bridge asking about the particulars of the traged}-. A coroner's jury was impaneled, the l)ody was cut flown and remo\ed to the court house, where, after a thorough examination of the premises, together with such information as persons in the immediate vicinity of the jail could detail, the following facts were arrived at.

A Victim Of Judge Lvxch

There had been extra guards on duty at tiie jail everv night from the time of Heffren's incarceration. About two o'clock Sunday morning the mob very quietly marched down the street and surrounded the jail. Their approach was not discovered until they were at the gate of the jail yard. A sharp rap was made at the front door, accompanied with a demand for admittance. This they were refused, and without further ceremony the door was bursted open with a sledge hammer and a crowd of masked men rushed in, seized and bound the guards, and securing the key to the cell diior rushed upstairs where Heff^ren was confined. Xot having obtained the key to the inner iron door to the cell, they were delayed a short time in forcing it open with heavy hammers.

There was a boy named Calvin Leffler in the cell with HefYren at the time, who stated that as soon as Hefi'ren heard the mob coming he broke up a chair and taking one of the back posts retreated into the dungeon and awaited their coming. His whereabouts were soon ascertained Init how to get him out of his stronghold was a question. The door to this dungeon was only two by three feet, only large enough to admit one man at a time and Heffren being back in one corner with his chair post would have dealt some deadly blows if an attempt had been made to go in after him. It is presumed that the\- determined to disable him, and then he could be taken out without any one being injured. Sex'eral shots were fired angling through the door, but HelTren stood close up in the corner and it was impossible to give him a fatal shot. A shot gun, loaded with slugs, which had been taken from the guards was fired, some of the contents passing through his right arm. Another shot cut his right cheek and a third passed through the fleshy part of the right breast, into and fracturing the right arm.

The boy stated that Heffren then surrendered, but begged them to shoot him, that he did not want to hang; but his request was in vain. The rope was then placed around his neck, his hands tied behind him and he was marched to the railroad bridge alx)ut one hundred and fifty yards distant, when he was pulled up some distance from the ground, the rope being fastened to a "T" rail. The work being finished the party returned to the jail, the keys were thrown into the hall, the guards released, and a shrill whistle notified the men who had been stationed about on the streets to keep people indoors, that all was over.

The mob was estimated at over one hundred - not a single one of whom was recognized. Rumor had it that Ed Johnson afterward acknowledged to some of his intimate friends that he had his revenge, having placed the noose about Heffren's neck. Governor Hendricks sent Attorney General Denney to Salem in November to investigate the matter and if possible to prosecute the parties that composed the mob. Detectives were also sent to run down the guilty parties if possible, but no positive evidence was produced sufficient to indict anyone.

After his arrest Heffren had threatened the lives of a large number of citizens of Salem should he ever be set free, so there was very little sympathy for him. He even offered the jailer a bribe of two thousand dollars if he would release him one hour to go upon the street and put his threats into execution. So there was a sigh of relief when this bold, bad man paid the penalty for his crimes.