Looters of the Public Domain/Chapter 18
Chapter XVIII
UPON arriving at the metropolis, I engaged a room with board in a private family on 125th street for a week, during which I made no effort at disguise. As a matter of fact, I visited many public places and points of interest, including the United States Navy Yard at Brooklyn, the opening of the season at Coney Island, besides the billiard tournament then in progress in New York City, various theatres and other places of attraction. I likewise called daily at the Astor House news stand for the Portland Morning Oregonian, so it will be seen that I was indifferent to the question of recapture.
At the expiration of my week with the family on 125th street, I returned to my old quarters on West 44th street, where I remained another week, at the end of which time I resolved to return to the Pacific Coast.
For the past ten days I had been debating in my mind when to go back and see Mr. Heney. It was difficult to determine on the correct course to pursue, as I had no knowledge as to how Mr. Heney would view the situation, or of his probable action in event that I returned and gave myself up. I knew, as a matter of fact, that I was already convicted in the 11-7 case and was out under $4,000 bond, a motion having been filed for a new trial. I also knew that I had been indicted jointly with F. Pierce Mays and others in the 24-1 case, in which I had been placed under an additional sum of $4,000, making $8,000 in all, and that there were still other indictments hanging over me. I had neither thought nor desire to escape these indictments, as I believe, because of having joined forces with the Government officials, and by reason of the valuable services rendered Mr. Heney immediately after my conviction, that I would be shown leniency, as I had been very active in the matter of securing evidence against Senator Mitchell, F. Pierce Mays and others.
At the time of presenting the evidence in question, the public in general, believing that I was actuated by revengful motives, clamored for my scalp and the lie was given in toto to my every declaration. Even Mr. Heney, at first, seemed dubious, but the time soon arrived when all doubt was dispelled, and not only was Mr. Heney convinced, but the public likewise was forced to accept as true every statement made by me relative to the guilt of the defendants.
I had known, from my association with Mr. Heney, that he was one who admired the truth. He insisted on and would have it and nothing short of the whole truth would suffice. This I had given him, varying neither to one side or the other, but keeping ever in the straight and narrow path, and as a reward for the services rendered, I could not but believe that he would deal graciously with me concerning the case in which I was convicted, as well as those under which I had been indicted.
At no time did Mr. Heney or those associated with him in my prosecution. promise me immunity, nor had 1 discussed the subject with them, or they with me. I had observed, however, that Mr. Heney treated me with every consideration and kindness and that he was disposed to be friendly with me, particularly so after he had made the discovery that I told him the truth and had worked to the end that additional testimony and evidence was adduced in substantiation of my statements.
In reviewing- these incidents, I also called to mind having- appeared before the U. S. Grand Jury, in the i)resence of Mr. Heney, at which time I related in detail my connection vith the cases under consideration and which, of itself, places me beyond the means of offering a defense, should Mr. Heney feel disposed to push the cases, and if convicted in each one, it would mean a term of years in the penitentiary that would remove all hope of ever being able to meet my obligations, as the interest alone on my accumulated debts would amount to no small item in itself. My family, too, wdiich consisted of a wife and six children, was dependent upon me for support and this fact alone weighed heavily on my mind.
My escape from Burns was the only stumbling block in the way. I knew of course, that he would exert himself to the utmost to influence Mr. Heney against me, for although we had been the best of friends during the land fraud trials in Oregon, while I assisted the prosecution in the collection of evidence against the accused, recent events would unquestionably have changed his feelings toward me, as my escape in Boston was the first time Burns had met with defeat, and to one of his reputation and pride, this incident, which was given widespread publicity, was very humiliating.
I reasoned, however, that it was with Mr. Heney, not Burns, that I had to deal, and that, if I could only convince him of the truth of my position in this matter throughout. I would have nothing to fear.
I resolved, therefore, to return to San Francisco and seek an interview with Mr. Heney, at which time, it was my purpose to lay the whole matter before him and to explain just why I had gone East and what I was doing there when Burns appeared on the scene. I would also explain to him why I determined to escape, the incidents attending my escape, and subsequent events, all of which, I believed, would convince Mr. Heney that I had no intention of leaving the country.
If, after explaining matters, I found that Mr. Heney took a liberal view^ of the situation, and showed a disposition to receive me into the fold and to accord me the same treatment afforded me before leaving Portland for the East, I would, in that case inform Mr. Heney that I was at his command and request him to state his pleasure. If, however, I found him ill disposed to receive me kindly, or to give my story due consideration, I would, in such an event, tell him that I must take my departure and return from whence I came.
As a matter of fact, my idea in wishing to hold private conference with Mr. Heney was based on a desire to sound him as to his feelings towards me. I had fully made up my mind to be governed entirely by his conduct upon that occasion. H his manner should indicate a lack of forgiveness, or that he was inclined to be arbitrary with me, it was my intention to make every pretense of yielding to his terms, and then lose no time in getting out of the country. I had planned to take the overland route on foot through Sonoma and Mendocino counties to my old home in Humboldt county, where I was perfectly familiar with every inch of the ground, and where I could remain secluded among friends in the backwoods until the affair had blown over. After that I could make my way to the seacoast and secure passage on some sailing vessel bound for a foreign port, and thus be in a position to defy the Federal authorities. These are the matters that had been revolving in my mind from the moment I had determined upon my present course, and explains my motive in wishing to meet the Government prosecutor at some neutral point where he would not hold all the advantage.
As a word of additional explanation of my position, I will state that, before leaving New York City for the Pacific Coast, I had thoroughly made up my mind that I could make no headway in a Government penitentiary; that my debts, which I was desirous of paying, must stand indefinitely and I questioned that I could ever settle them at all, while my family must go without my care and support. Outside prison walls, I would soon be enabled to square up everything, and at the same time, give to my family the protection it demanded and furnish the necessaries of life. This I wanted to do in America, but if forced to do so, I believed that it could be done elsewhere. However, after debating the subject with myself pro and con, I decided that my only hope was in Mr. Heney, and that I must call on him without further delay.
Settling my bill at the boarding house, I purchased a ticket for San Francisco over the Santa Fe route, via St. Louis and Kansas City, leaving New York City on May 11th, 1906, and arriving at Point Richmond, on San Francisco bay, on the evening of the 15th.
As the train was late in arriving, and accommodations, on account of the recent earthquake in San Francisco, were difficult to secure, the Pullman conductor informed his passengers that they might occupy their berths until the following morning.
Remaining in the car, as I did not care to venture home that night, lest it was being watched, I arose early on the following morning and my first thought was to learn if Mr. Heney was in the city, and if so, to reach him by 'phone. It was not my intention to talk with him personally, but to reach him by process of some friend, through whom I might learn if he was in the city. I spent something like half a day in this effort, but could do nothing, as the telephone system was completely demoralized.
I then took the car for Alameda, going through Oakland, where I walked through the streets crowded with refugees from San Francisco, arriving at Alameda about 1:30 p. m. and going direct to the Park Hotel, which was the only hotel in the city. Here I engaged a room and registered under an assumed name.
After eating luncheon in the hotel cafe, I went to the main office of the telephone company and called up my home, the telephone being answered by one of my little boys, who inquired what was wanted. As I recognized the voice as that of the one who owned a lot of pigeons, I asked him, in a muffled tone, if he had any squabs for sale. I did not care to risk his recognizing me at this time, as little fellows, in their enthusiasm, will sometimes talk too much.
Being informed that he had a number of squabs and that they were for sale, I made an appointment with him for that evening at 8:30, requesting him to meet me at a certain point in West Berkeley, which he said he would do and I hung up the receiver.
Returning to my room, I passed the time in reading accounts of the recent disaster in San Francisco and at the appointed time, I met my son. As I had not seen the little fellow for something like six months, he passed me on the street corner without recognition, but had gone but a few paces when I stopped him with the inquiry as to why he should pass his father in that manner. The lad paused for a second, and- when he realized that it was really me, bounded into my arms. His joy was unbounded, and it was with difficulty that I could restrain him from crying aloud in his demonstration of affection and pleasure.
After quieting the lad. I told him that it was none other than myself who had 'phoned about the pigeons, and now that he had kept his appointment, I had still another and more important duty for him to perform.
The little fellow was willing, so I instructed him to inform his mother that I had returned, both safe and sound, and that I was waiting to see her at the same place where I had met the boy. I cautioned him not to speak of the incident in the presence of his sisters or brothers, or any one else, but to take his mamma upstairs and deliver the message where no one else would hear.
He was off at once, and, as there were but eight blocks to go in reaching home, it was but a short time before he came back with his mother, both arriving with flushed faces and laboring under much excitement. It was not intended that the boy should return, but in pleading his own cause at the time, he said: "Papa, I couldn't stay away." In this case, there was no evidence to olffr in rebuttal.
Needless to say that I was delighted to meet my wife once more, as she was also to see me. My business had often kept me from home a great deal, but this was the longest time I had ever been away from my family, and it made the reunion a doubly happy one, more especially as it established the fact that every member of the family was in good health and that the appealing disaster of a few weeks before had not materially affected their surroundings.
After briefly relating my experiences. 1 informed my wife that I had returned for the purpose of seeing and talking with Mr. Heney, although for the present, I must keep in the background. I told her where I was stopping and said that I would 'phone her every day, but that she must not call me up. It was also understood that nothing should be said to the other children, or to those who were stopping at the house, some ten persons in all.
I explained, of course, that it might be several days before I could locate Mr. Heney and arrange for an interview. In the meantime, I must busy myself in an effort to find someone worthy the task of adjusting matters for me with him.
I informed Mrs. Puter that it was my intention to try and locate Mrs. Marie Ware McKinley, Horace's wife, and also Mrs. Emma L. Watson, through one of whom, I believed it possible to arrange for a meeting with Mr. Heney.
She stated that Mrs. McKinley and Albert ("Allie") McKinley, Horace's cousin, had called at the house several times during the past few weeks, and that the latter had told her that he had been in communication with the La Crosse people with whom Horace had difficulty and they had expressed a desire for Horace to return, as it was not their intention to prosecute him, but would give him all the time necessary to square matters with them. Allie McKinley, declared my wife, seemed to take a great interest in the personal welfare of myself and his cousin Horace. In speaking of the trouble, he suggested that, if it were impossible for Mrs. Puter to reach me by letter or wire, it would be. well to advertise through the columns of the papers in the larger cities of the East, requesting that I communicate with him, (Allie McKinley), for valuable information. Should a reply be received, he would then advise that I return to San Francisco and see him. My wife consented to the plan, so McKinley had the advertisements inserted in the New York and Boston papers, as he thought 1 would be in either one of the two places. After assuring my wife that I would call her up the very first opportunity, I bade her good night and returned to my hotel. On the following morning, I decided to ring up Mrs. Watson first, for the reason that I knew that she lived with her mother in San Francisco, and within a few blocks of Mr. Heney's residence. Mrs. Watson had been convicted with me in the 11-7 case and it was reasonable to believe that she had talked frequently w^ith him and would probably know how he felt toward me. In an}- event, she would be in touch with his whereabouts.
I experienced some difficulty in locating Mrs. Watson over the 'phone, as she had moved from her former residence, immediately after the fire and was now living in Oakland, across the bay. However, through her friends I learned where she was living, and about 1 o'clock on Thursday afternoon, talked with her over the 'phone, requesting that she come to Alameda and meet me in the park at 3 o'clock.
Upon meeting Mrs. Watson, she expressed great surprise, and remarked that she supposed that I, too, had gone to China, as she had read several accounts in the San Francisco papers of my escape from Detective Burns and did not think that I would stop short of some foreign country in my anxiety to escape the eagle eye of "Foxy Quiller."
Assuring her that the United States was good enough for me, and that I was still here and in the flesh, I proceeded by informing her that I returned to 
She replied that he was in San Francisco, and while he had changed his office after the fire, was still residing at his old home and that she had called on him several times within the past few weeks.
Asked if Mr. Heney had made any reference to either McKinley or myself. Mrs. Watson stated that he had spoken of us on several occasions, and had expressed surprise that we should have gone away.
In discussing the matter with her in a general way. she maintained the opinion that Mr. Heney did not have anything against either McKinley or myself and insisted that he had spoken kindly of us both at different times and she believed, if I gained an interview with Mr. Heney personally, as was my expressed desire to do, and would explain to him the entire situation, he would feel agreeable to the idea and would meet me more than half way on any fair proposition. Mrs. Watson volunteered to arrange a meeting between Mr. Heney and myself at her home, provided he could be induced to come there, and I approved of the plan, as Mr. Heney could probably be induced to come there rather than to any other place, on account of her connection with the Oregon trials, and on the pretext that she had some information which she wished to impart to him.
After discussing the subject in order to determine on a probable excuse she might offer to Mr. Heney for not wishing to divulge the information when she called at his office, I told Mrs. Watson to advise him that it was in the nature of documentary evidence which she did not care to risk carrying on her person, but which, if he would call at her mother's residence in Oakland, she would gladly show to him personally, and by way of arousing his curiosity, she was to exact from him a promise that he would not divulge to a single person where he became possessed of the information, nor was he to mention it at all until the next session of the Federal Court in Oregon, at the resumption of the land fraud trials.
Mrs. Watson hesitated to agree to this deceptive method of bringing Mr. Heney to her home, but when I pointed out to her that she would be telling the truth in a sense—that I would be there, if Mr. Heney would agree to come, and would present myself as the "documentary evidence" and which documentary evidence, in all truth, she could not very well "risk carrying on her person," I could not see where Mr. Heney would have any cause to complain, or to call into question her reputation for truth and veracity. At any rate, I assured Mrs. Watson that no harm could come of it, even though her contention might be considered far fetched.
I prevailed upon her finally to view the situation as I did, so she agreed to call on Mr. Heney at his office on the day following—Friday, May 18th—and if a conference was arranged, she could notify me immediately by visiting the place of our present meeting at 4 o'clock Friday afternoon, but if she should fail to see Mr. Heney, she was then to meet me on the following morning at 10 o'clock.
Returning to my hotel, I remained there during the evening, and the next morning arose early and took breakfast in a small restaurant across the street from the hotel, after which 1 read the morning paper and then sauntered down the street to a point where I had noticed a number of men and women formed in line. These I discovered to be San Francisco refugees awaiting their turn for their morning rations, which were being distributed by members of the relief committee.
Having a curiosity to learn how matters were progressing, I fell into line, and after moving forward with the crowd, managed, about 40 minutes later, to reach the inside of the building and found myself in front of a long counter. Behind this were several clerks busily engaged in filling orders on identification cards handed in by those entitled to consideration. These cards bore the name of the person, the number in the family, and such other information as might enable the clerks to make the proper distribution of provisions.
When my time came, I was asked for my credentials but had none to present. I was determined, however, to make some sort of stall, so I informed the young man that I had the misfortune to lose my ticket on the way down, but that he would surely remember me as the person who secured certain provisions from him on the morning before.
The clerk felt sorry for me, he said, but could not, in the absence of my duly signed credentials, afford me any relief.
"Would you have me return to my wife and six children without food?" I asked, imploringly.
"Don't like to do it, but the rules are imperative and I cannot break them," he replied.
"How about a loaf or two of bread, couldn't you let me have that much?" I pleaded.
"Can't do a thing for you!" was the stern reply.
"Would you mind letting me stand here then and satisfy my hunger by seeing others get what they want?" I inquired.
"No sir, you must move on!" he commanded.
With this, an old lady who stated that she had two little girls at home, but who evidently was of the kind that would share her last bun with a needy stranger, confronted me with the remark:
"Here, mister, take one of my loaves home with you."
My curiosity had been fully satisfied and after thanking the dear old soul for her benevolence, I placed two fifty cent pieces in her hand and requested that she give one each to the children for me, upon her return home, explaining at the same time that I had called only to see that things were being properly conducted acceding to instructions.
The old lady seemed satisfied with my explanation, the clerk looked wise and swelled up a bit to think that I had been outdone in my effort to ensnare him, and I, too, feeling content as a result of my investigation, extricated myself from the crowd and was soon lost to sight, not thinking it best to remain about the place, as it was not unlikely that some official of the relief committee might be hovering near and would inquire as to my identity.
Later I took a walk in an easterly direction until I came to the county road connecting Alameda with San Jose and continued down the road to San Leandro, where I ate luncheon and also 'phoned to my wife. I then returned to the park in Alameda and waited for Mrs. Watson until almost 5 o'clock. I returned to the hotel about an hour afterwards, as it was not likely she had kept her appointment. In the evening I attended a stereopticon entertainment, showing views of San Francisco during the progress of the fire immediately after the earthquake.
At 10 o'clock on the following morning, Mrs. Watson came to the park and informed me that upon reaching the building in which Mr. Heney's office was located, her heart had failed her completely.
"You will think me a coward," said Mrs. Watson, "I am probably all of that, but the truth is, I was overcome with an indescribable feeling of fear and could not proceed an inch further. I thereupon decided to return and see if some other plan could not be devised."
I felt keenly disappointed, but could not upbraid the woman, as her every action indicated distress because of her inability to do as she had promised. Besides I felt secure in my present position, and believed that it would only be a matter of a few days when some other plan would present itself to my mind, when I would probably think of some other way to reach Mr. Heney and arrange for a meeting.
This seemed to encourage her, and she stated, before departing for her home, that if I failed in my efforts to make other arrangements, to let her know and she would try it again.
This interview took place on Saturday morning. May 19th, or just one day before my capture.
After thanking Mrs. Watson for her efforts in my behalf, I returned to the hotel and wont to my room to think matters over. Mrs. Watson. I reasoned, would probably fail again, should she attempt to interview Mr. Heney, so I decided to call on Mrs. Marie Ware McKinley, as Burns had given her credit for having withstood his inquisition and I felt that she was capable of doing a great deal in my behalf.
It was very probable, therefore, that Marie could arrange matters for me. and as my wife had given me her address. I thought it worth while trying anyway. She was thoroughly familiar with the land fraud cases, and would understand exactly just why I wanted to gain an interview with Mr. Heney. Besides. I was of the opinion that he felt kindly toward her, and u])on receiving the story, such as I had originally outlined, he would not hesitate to call at her residence.
Not having anything to occupy my time during the day, I borrowed a pair of field glasses from the landlady at the hotel and walked to the hills back of Oakland, from whence I viewed the devastated districts of San Francisco. I had a great desire to visit the city in person and inspect the ruins, but would not countenance the thought of imperiling my chances of freedom until after I could talk with Mr. Heney, so was forced to content myself to view the results of that awful disaster from afar.
After returning to the hotel that evening, I took supper and lingered about until quite late, as I did not think it best to call on Marie much before 11 o'clock. I had endeavored during the evening to reach her by 'phone, but did not succeed. As I would not risk making an a])i)ointment by messenger. I figured that, on account of it being Saturday night, she would not be likely to retire very early and would, in all probability, be up until 11 o'clock, if not later.
About 10:30 p. m. I left the hotel and boarded a street car for 32nd street and Shattuck avenue. Berkeley, where I alighted and walked to the address given me by my wife, as the residence of Marie. Upon knocking at the door, it was opened by Allie McKinley. Horace's cousin, who inquired upon seeing me: Isn't this Mr. Puter?" to which I replied that he had guessed correctly.
It was something like four years since I had seen Allie McKinley. and as I was somewhat changed in appearance, he did not readily recognize me, but in taking a second look, discovered in me the much sought for Puter.
Inviting me inside, we entered the sitting room, whereupon I asked if Marie was stopping there. To this injury I received an affirmative answer, accompanied by the information that she had retired for the night.
Stepping to the stairway, Allie called to Marie that Steve was here, and she immediately dressed and came to where we were talking. Marie, of course, was delighted to see me. though she said that she was not surprised, as she rather looked for me to show up soon. Her actions on that occasion were those of a boisterous child, overjoyed because of the return of a long absent friend or parent, and she made no attempt to subdue her emotions.
I was somewhat amused at her childish antics and the interest she exhibited in my revelation of the happenings of the past few months. She was intent on catching every word and was jubilant in her expressions of satisfaction in learning of my success, while she would stop to pity me when I spoke of the trials I had undergone and would frequently interrupt me with words of caution, in childlike solicitude for my present safety.
It was quite natural, I suppose, that Marie should receive me in this manner, as I had known her from girlhood and was familiar with all the circumstances surrounding her love affair with my friend and partner. I had often found it necessary to patch up many of their little quarrels of the genuine lover's kind that had arisen between them. To Marie, therefore, I had been somewhat of a guardian angel, or big brother, as it were, and it was only to be expected that she would treat me accordingly. 
During my visit, I related as briefly as possible my experience from the time of last seeing Horace in Chicago when 1 attended their wedding; how I spent the intervening time between that date and the time of my meeting with Marie and her mother-in-law, Horace's mother, in Minneapolis; what had taken place after that date, including my escape from Burns in Boston, and why I had determined, as a fitting climax to my exciting adventures, to return to the Pacific Coast.
My readers will readily understand the object I had in view in relating at this time, the incidents of the past six months to my old partner's wife, which was, of course, to prepare her for what was to come—the object of my visit—to solicit her aid in gaining an interview with Mr. Heney.
Nor could I question her sincerity as a true friend and one worthy of the confidence I was now about to repose in her, as I was fully convinced she would perform the duty in a most conscientious and faithful manner, with credit alike to herself and those interested, and would, in my opinion, succeed in bringing Mr. Heney to her home, where I could meet him in person and learn my fate.
I could not, however, bring myself to the point where I felt entirely safe in unfolding my plan at that time and in the presence of Allie McKinley, who remained in the room, never leaving it for a single moment, from the time of Marie's entrance. I had no right, it would appear, to question this man's stability as a friend and the sincerity of his expressions of solicitude for my welfare, for was it not he, to whom my old friend and partner referred, in speaking of how I could best reach him by letter in his first communication to me from China, when he wrote: "My cousin, Allie McKinley, whose address is 222 McAllister street, San Francisco, is thoroughly reliable and trustworthy, and a person in whom you may place every confidence without reservation. and 1 urge that you communicate with me through him, rather than to attempt it through any other source." And further, was it not this same Allie McKinley whom Horace had spoken of during our travels among several of the Middle States, when it appeared that we might be forced to separate for a time and would require the aid of some trusted friend through whom we might communicate?
Yes, Allie, my host of the hour, was this same person, and the same, indeed, who, calling- at my home in company with Marie Ware McKinley, his cousin's wife, had assured Mrs. Puter that he would be glad of the opportunity to lend assistance to Horace, as he would also to his cousin's friend. So solicitous, in fact, was this man for our welfare, that he made frequent visits to my home, for the avowed purpose of contriving some means whereby he might effect our return and arrange an amicable settlement of difficulties.
Withal, the man's silent look and expression, which was frequently directed to my quarter, was not such as to confirm the confidence which I should gladly have placed in him at that moment. Besides, it did not appear necessary that I acquaint him with my plans, as I must look to Marie alone for a successful termination of what 1 had in mind, and as he could not take any active part in the proceedings, I reasoned, as I had often done before, that one confidence was always better than two.
Allie, during the two hours that I spent at his house that night, had been much of a silent listener, only venturing to ask such questions as, "How are you fixed, Steve, in case you are being trailed now and the officers should come in on you?" and "What would you do in event of being discovered?"
For answer, I reached for my gun, which was fastened to a belt around the front of my body and concealed inside my trousers.
"I guess this would hold them for a while," I remarked, significantly.
After gazing steadfastly at the weapon a few^ seconds, and without making any request, he made a move, such as would indicate his desire to inspect it more closely, but perceiving his object, I quietly replaced it in my belt without comment.
As the hour was growing late, I informed Marie and Allie that I must be returning to my hotel, and in leaving asked Marie if she would meet me at the park in Alameda on Sunday afternoon at two o'clock, at which time I would acquaint her with my plans for the future and also advise her in regard to a certain matter which I wished her to attend to for me. Marie readily assented, whereupon I bade them both good night, and departed for my room.
As I had settled my bill prior to leaving the hotel that evening and engaged a room in a private family some four or five blocks down the street from the hotel and towards the bay. I hesitated to go to my room at such an unseasonable hour; but as I had removed my suit case from the hotel to my new quarters, and as my room was on the ground floor and could be reached without disturbing any one, I concluded to do so.
Arriving there, I retired immediately and endeavored to find repose in sleep, that I might rest both body and mind, but to no avail.
Somehow, but for what reason I could not exactly understand. I had a foreboding of impending danger. Even in the darkness of night and in the solitude of my room, there appeared a vision as of one lurking in the shadow, upon whose face was written the cowardly expression of a deceptive and crafty foe.
Try as I would to escape from this ill omen and to banish the thought, this vision of a traitorous hand was my ever constant and persistent companion, and through the long weary hours of the night, like Banquo's ghost, it would not down.
Could I have an enemy such as that which held me spellbound and in constant fear? Could he be even now upon me, and would I. in a moment of helpless surroundings, be dragged forth to meet my doom? These were among the thoughts on this eventful night, which proved to be my last of freedom for many moons to come. It was then that I reviewed to my mind the constancy of my friends, those who had been faithful to me through thick and thin, at the risk of becoming implicated in my troubles.
It was then, too, that my thoughts reverted to my wife, and it was then, indeed, that I looked to her as the one faithful to the end. She it was whom I could trust, and she it was, in this hour of baffling thought, in my moments of hope and fear, in whom I decided to confide and to make my messenger for the arrangement of this all important meeting with him in whom I based my hope. I must see Mr. Heney at once, and my wife, on the morrow, will be intrusted with the mission of bringing him to our home.
The night being far spent, and without sleep, I arose at six o'clock and had breakfast over with about an hour and a half later. I then read the morning paper until 8:30, when I went to the main telephone office in Alameda and 'phoned to my wife, requesting her to call up Mr. Heney at once, and after stating that she had some important news for him, to ask if he would call at the house, or if she might come to his home, and to ask, in either event, what time would be most convenient for him. I also told my wife that I would call her up again later in the day. In the meantime, she was to call up Mr. Heney, but was not to mention my name, nor refer to my present whereabouts.
I then returned to my room, and taking from my grip my new model, knockdown, 30-30 Winchester rifle which I had purchased recently in New York City with the intention of placing it in my cabinet of firearms—as I am somewhat of a fancier along that line—I proceeded to put it together and shortly thereafter, walked to the beach, some two blocks distant. Here I entertained myself in target practice in the hopes of correcting any deficiency that might appear in the sights of my new piece, as I had not yet had an opportunity to test it.
I remained on the beach about two hours, during which time I traversed a distance of something like a mile. Finding my gun in good shape, and after killing a few small birds, I returned to the city by one of the main streets, and as I reached the corner of Park street and the one on which the broad-gauge railway runs, I met a lady and gentleman. Addressing the latter, I asked him, referring to the railroad, if it was the track that led to the Oakland mole, or if it went to the narrow gauge depot, connecting with San Francisco.
The gentleman not appearing to know, his companion volunteered the information, and as ladies frequently do, she consumed sufficient time to give me a complete history of the road. The conversation, I presume, lasted fully three minutes, and I might state here, that this lady, to whom the newspapers referred as the "blonde" with whom I held a conversation, was a total stranger to me, and to this day, I have never learned her name.
As there was another railroad track some two blocks distant, my object in making this inquiry was to learn which of the two was the most direct route to my home, as I expected, in event of Mr. Heney agreeing to come to my house, to be called upon to go there at any moment.
After securing the desired information from the woman, I continued, with rifle in hand, down the main street of the city, past the Park Hotel and to the telephone office again, where I called my wife up and inquired as to the result of her efforts to reach Mr. Heney.
She informed me of having put in a call at nine o'clock, or shortly after talking with me that morning, but had received no reply. She would, she said, put in another call immediately and would continue to do so until an answer was received.
As it was now almost twelve o'clock, I went to the restaurant and had luncheon. I then returned to my room, and after taking my gun apart, cleaning and replacing it in the case, I locked it away in my suit case and prepared to meet Marie, as per appointment of the night before.
After donning my overcoat, which was a long one and quite heavy, I looked at my watch and discovered that I had yet fifteen minutes to spare, so instead of walking direct to the park, which was only a block away from my room, I decided to take a circuitous route to a point where the car would stop, on which I expected Marie would arrive, it being my intention to walk hack to the park with her.
The route in question took me along a street immediately west of the main street, and past the police station. This, however, I knew nothing about at the time, so went by the City Hall, on the opposite side of the street, as unconcernedly as though I were on one of the back streets of the city and wholly oblivious of impending danger.
I had just looked at my watch, which indicated that the time set for appointment with Marie was drawing near. As I expected she w(juld be prom])t to the moment, as was her custom, I was debating with myself as to what I should say to her. If I found it possible to arrange a meeting with Mr. Heney through the efforts of my wife. I preferred to do so, but should this fail, 1 should be glad enough to enlist Marie's services to that end. She would want to know, of course, all about my plans for the future as soon as we met, so I concluded, instead of hailing her upon alighting from the car, to take a position where I would not be observed and to permit her to walk to the park alone, following close behind, and after meeting, to excuse myself for a few moments, when I could go to the telephone office again and inquire of my wife if she had succeeded in making an appointment with Mr. Heney.
If 1 learned that this had been accomplished, it was my intention to reserve myself in the matter of unfolding my plans to Marie. If, on the other hand, my wife had failed to reach Mr. Heney, I thought it would be well enough to tell Marie everything and enlist her services. Even at that. I figured that Marie could be pulled off at any time, should I learn, in the meantime, that Mrs. Puter had gotten into communication with Mr. Heney and satisfactory arrangements had been made for a meeting.
Thus absorbed in thought. I walked along until I had reached the corner of the street just one block north of the City Hall. I had observed a man crossing the street and knew that we would meet, but paid no thought to the matter, as he was apparently unconcerned as to my presence. As I was about to turn the corner, the man grappled me by the arm and exclaimed:
"We want you!"
At the same moment, as I attempted to wrench myself from his grasp, two other men, who had evidently been concealed in the immediate vicinity, seized me from behind.
I was determined from the first to put up a fight for freedom and to keep it up until all possible hope had vanished. Having noted that not one of the three men who had seized me was physically my equal, my first thought was to free one hand and use it with such effect as would enable me to become totally freed from their grasp, as it would require but a second to unbutton my overcoat and reach my gun. I soon discovered, however, that the combined strength of the three men, as pitted against that of my own, was more than I could successfully cope with, and more especially because of my being encumbered by a heavy overcoat, which was buttoned and reached almost to my shoe tops. Even against these long odds, I continued to give battle as best I could, and it was waxing warm and fierce when Chief of Police John Conrad appeared on the scene and took a hand.
I continued to struggle as they headed me toward the station and one of my captors—who had first laid hands on me at the corner—evidently thinking that I might yet escape, suggested to the Chief that he use his club and lay me out. excitedly exclaiming:
"Hit him over the head, Chief—let him have it—knock him out!"
But the Chief did not strike me, for while it is true that he raised his club in a threatening manner, it is also a fact that whatever his thoughts may have been, he refrained from making use of the uplifted club, as the weak-kneed sleuth had advised. The remarks of this man had angered me, of course, though I did not believe that the Chief would follow the suggestions made to him, as his general appearance and demeanor did not savor of the coward, or one who, under such circumstances, would be guilty of such an act. When he raised his club, however, I thought it high time to express myself, which I did in language that would not be considered exactly genteel and which, for obvious reasons, I shall not repeat at this time. I might say, though, that I counseled with the Chief to think twice before taking such action and I might also state, that I reached the station without experiencing the delightful sensation of having my head knocked off.
About midway between the point of capture and the station, or half a block from the City Hall, a policeman came running up, and the same individual who had suggested that violence be used against me, addressed him with the remark:
"Damn you, why didn't you get here on time?" To this the patrolman made no response, but turned about and quietly returned with my captors to the station.
Upon entering, I was ushered into the Chief's private office, and there searched and relieved of my valuables, including my revolver, and perceiving that they were about to remove me to a cell, I addressed the Chief and requested that he permit me to use the telephone, which he said I might do.
Calling up my home, I inquired of my wife if she had succeeded in reaching Mr. Heney, to which she replied in the negative, but stated that she had been trying all day to find him and would put in another call.
"That will not be necessary now," I remarked.
"What do you mean?" came back the inquiry, in a voice that denoted excitement and fear.
"I am at the police station," I answered, and was about to say something that would reassure my wife and let her know that I was all right and not to worry, when I heard the receiver at the other end of the line strike against the wall and at the same instant came a sound as of some one falling to the floor. I thereupon hung up the receiver and after informing the Chief that I was through, and thanking him for the courtesy extended, was led away.
My captors, either through spite, or to show their authority, or from fear that I might possess the power to claw through an ordinary wall, placed me in the dungeon. It was a steel cage, devoid of any aperture whatever, except for a small square opening in the door and which, after they had locked me in, they took occasion to close, thereby excluding the last ray of light that might have cast a reflection of hope upon the surroundings of my gloomy cell.
I shall make no attempt at this time to describe my thoughts, as I found myself alone in the confines of total darkness and solitude, preferring that my readers exercise their imaginative powers to define my feelings. Mine, up to this time, had been a life of freedom, barring the few moments passed in the custody of Secret Service Agent Burns when he thought to hold and return me to the Pacific Coast, and the time spent with a deputy United States Marshal in Portland, when I was seeking bond for my appearance in Court. As compared to my present predicament, they were not to be considered as worthy of note.
I was a real prisoner now, and whatever else can be said, I knew it and felt my position keenly. Had I secured but another day, Mr. Heney, in all probability, would have been reached. Two days, and I was sure of it, but alas, I had been captured, imprisoned and in a dungeon cell, and my last hope to arrange a meeting and arrive at a settlement of my trouble had vanished.
I thought to send for Mr. Heney and to advise him of all that had been in my mind, but would he not laugh at, if not, indeed, mock me? Could he ever, I wondered, be brought to believe me and know the truth?
Thus meditating and groping about in the darkness of my dungeon cell, I was aroused by the opening of the wicket in the door, through which came a stern voice in commanding tones, ordering that I "come forward here that I may take a look at you!" 
I did not "come forward" so the man on the outside threw up the wicket again and went away.
Some twenty minutes later, the door to my dungeon was thrown open by the Chief of police, who invited me to step outside, remarking that I might have the freedom of the main room, which was about twenty feet square and the same in which the portable dungeon was placed. The latter occupied one corner, and less than one-sixth of the room space. Leading from this was another room, in which was a double bedstead, with mattress, blankets and pillows, which the Chief informed me I might make use of, at the same time advising me that I could have the privilege of sending out for anything that I desired.
I had been in the jail something like two hours when Mrs. Puter called. The meeting, as may be imagined, was not so pleasant as that of a few nights before, when I visited with my wife and little boy on the street corner. Our interview lasted about an hour and I really felt relieved when my wife started for home, as my surroundings were not conducive to restoring confidence, and the longer she remained, the worse she would feel. She blamed herself for not reaching Mr. Heney by 'phone before this condition could exist, often remarking that she might have been more persistent in her efforts to find him.
After my wife's departure, I made careful inspection of my surroundings and found that my new quarters contained many conveniences which I did not look for, or hope to find, in a city prison. But there was yet another surprise in store for me, for at the supper hour, the Chief called on me again and asked what I should like to eat. I had rather expected to have a pan of boiled beans thrown at me, but instead, was allowed to place an order for a "porterhouse," which was substantially served about 40 minutes later, together with French fried potatoes and a cup of good coffee.
As I had nothing to occupy my attention, I retired early and not having slept any the night before and because of the fatigue and worry of the day, I was soon lost in peaceful repose and wholly oblivious for the time of my troubles, both past and present. Upon waking in the morning, I had difficulty in locating myself and for a moment, I did not realize the true situation. But it soon dawned upon me in all its hideousness.
Shortly after arising the restaurant man called and took my order, and when breakfast was served and over with, I was handed a morning paper containing a full account of the capture. The article, as might be expected, was quite sensational and went on to state that I had been trailed by detectives from the time of leaving my room on Sunday morning, describing how I had met and talked with a certain "blonde lady" during the forenoon on the railway track, after which I returned to my room and shortly thereafter, appeared again on the streets, where the detectives, fearing lest I was preparing to leave the place, pounced upon me and effected my safe delivery to the police station.
I concluded, after reading the account of my capture, that the detectives had very probably interviewed the blonde lady referred to, and inquiring as to the nature of her conversation with me, and learning that I asked as to which of the two roads led to the Oakland mole, they concluded I was seeking this information in order to gain knowledge of a probable means of escape. My having donned my long overcoat, too, and because of the direction in which I was walking, would tend to establish this theory.
But how, I asked myself, could they have located me in the first place? The paper stated that they had trailed me from early morning and for aught I knew . they may have been trailing me on the day before, or from the time of my arrival on the Coast, or from the East, for that matter. This was a question which I longed to have answered and one that perplexed me sorely. I had several callers during the day, including my wife and some of the older children. Mrs. Watson also called to see me and felt very much chagrined over the outcome, blaming herself for my present predicament for having lost courage when she went to call on Mr. Heney at his office.
"If I had only carried out my original intentions when I left home for Mr. Heney's office, you would not be here today. "lamented Mrs. Watson.
She wondered, as did every one else, how I should come to be captured in that manner, after evading the detectives for such a length of time.
At that moment, I was not prepared to say, or to make any statement as to how my capture was brought about, but I did learn and that, too. very shortly thereafter, just how it all happened. the information coming to me from an authentic source and one which dispelled all doubt as to its reliability and truth, or correctness in detail.
From the moment of first reading the account of my capture and learning that the detectives had been trailing me since early Sunday morning, I was determined, if within the power of man, to learn by what means and through what source, these detectives became advised as to my presence in the city. I had therefore, though confined in the Alameda jail, instituted a vigorous line of inquiry to determine this point, and while it was being conducted, the very information T most desired was volunteered to me by one whom I least expected would give me the facts.
Needless to say that it would be impossible for me to divulge the name of my informant, as I gave my word of honor at the time that I should never make use of it for any purpose whatever, and it was understood between us that he should be protected throughout.
The conversation which I am about to relate to my readers had its inception in a question being directed to me, asking my opinion as to how I came to be captured. Replying thereto I said:
"I haven't the slightest idea."
"Did you have any idea that the 'blonde lady' had anything to do with the case?' "was asked.
"I cannot, for the world, figure how she could have had. as I cannot recollect having ever seen the lady before," I replied.
"Well, you are right; she did not figure in your capture. However. Mr. Puter. there was a woman in the case."
"Can't see how that could be—you must be mistaken," I said.
"No, Mr. Puter, I am not mistaken. The woman I have in mind played an important part, though I cannot say that she was alone in the transaction."
"Who might this lady be, to whom you make reference?" I asked.
"Isn't it a fact, Mr. Puter, that you had an appointment to meet Mrs. Marie McKinley in the park on Sunday afternoon at two o'clock?" he inquired.
"Where did you get that information?" I asked, by way of reply.
My informant, evidently hesitating to discuss the subject further, turned on his heel and was about to walk away when I intercepted him by adding: "You will tell me. won't you, where you got this information?"
Something in the man's manner told me that he had information which he would be glad enough to impart to me, but hesitated to venture so far, so I said to him, as he stood there and silently gazed at me:
"You are not afraid to trust me, are you?"
He hesitated no longer, but resuming his former position in front of me, remarked: "Puter, I have taken a liking to you—this much I will tell you in advance—and I would like to tell you everything, but you know yourself that this is rather ticklish business. If I knew," he continued, "that I could trust you implicitly, I would be willing, because of certain conditions, to tell you all about this affair, but if I do and you should become angered, as you very probably would, you might say something that would give the whole snap away and hell itself would be to pay."
"As to that," I replied, "you need have no fear, for under no circumstances would I ever betray the confidence."
"You will promise me then, on your word of honor, that the information I am about to give you shall never be mentioned in connection therewith, whatever the circumstances or consideration?" interrogated my new friend.
"You have stated the conditions," I replied promptly, and continuing, I assured the gentleman that I would protect his name in connection with the subject, as I would my life.
He then proceeded to inform me that Mrs. Marie McKinley had kept the appointment and had remained in the park fully an hour, if not longer before returning home.
My informant expressed himself as of the opinion that Marie was implicated in the plot to effect my capture, but could not understand, if such was the case, why she should have remained in the park so long a time after the appointed hour of our meeting. He was quite positive, however, that she was cognizant of the fact that information was sent to headquarters with reference to her appointment with me and of what might result as a sequence of our meeting.
"Do you mean to infer that Marie sent word to headquarters? I can hardly believe this," I replied.
"As to who inspired the message, I cannot say, but I do know, beyond all doubt, that there was a message received over the 'phone at police headquarters at four o'clock on Sunday morning, informing the department that Mrs. McKinley was to meet you in the park at two o'clock that afternoon."
"Am I to understand that Marie 'phoned this information?" I asked.
"Not exactly, but it came from one who occupies the same house in which Mrs. McKinley resides and which residence, if your betrayer has correctly stated the facts, you visited on the Saturday night before, remaining for something like two hours," was the reply.
The suspense was soon to be terminated and although I might have guessed the rest, I asked, though stunned from the shock and beside myself with grief; "who might this one have been?"
Drawing a little closer and placing his right hand on my shoulder as if to brace me for what was yet to come, in subdued tones he spoke again, and his answer had been given me.
"What," I murmured, "Allie McKinley, the very blood of my old friend and partner, Horace, and it was he, the one in whom I should have least expected to discover my 'Judas Iscariot' and the one with whom, but a few short nights before, I had partaken of his hospitality in the breaking of bread and drinking of wine and in whose home, I was supposed to consider myself a welcome guest, free to share with him in that which was his and secure against my foes!"
What did they give him that I might be delivered unto them? What, I asked myself, could be the nature of the covenant into which he had entered? Not for gold, nor for silver, nor for precious stones would I have done this thing to one of those—my friends. And could it be, that for "thirty pieces of silver" I should be sold into slavery?
It was now, indeed, that I could understand that cowardly look. It was now, indeed, that I could understand wherein his interest centered, when, on that most wretched Saturday night, he asked such questions as: "How are you fixed, Steve, in case you are being trailed now and the officers should come in on you?" and "What would you do in event of being discovered?" It was now, too, that I guessed at what might have taken place, even at that very hour, had my faithful weapon not have been produced and exhibited in evidence of something more substantial even than human flesh, and because of the sight of that polished barrel, he had cowered beneath the spell.
It was now, in my moments of reflection and bitter remorse, that I could understand the intuition of my troubled mind, when, on that same miserable night, I tried so hard to find repose in sleep, but could not, even for a moment, conquer the spell that hound me to my doom. This, in all truth, was the foreboding of my fate, but the warning I heeded not. it had to come to me, but alas, too late.
Shortly after receiving this information, the Chief of Police came to my cell and announced that Mrs. McKinley was in the office and desired to speak to me.
"Just say to the lady, Chief, that I do not wish to see her," I replied.
A few minutes later the Chief returned again and remarked: "When I delivered your message. Mr. Puter, the lady asked for the privilege of writing you a note, which I said she might do and which, when written, she handed to me for delivery—here it is."
Accepting the note from the Chief. I immediately tore it up and tossed the fragments through the bars.
"You ought to have read that, Mr. Puter, as the lady left the office after handing it to me and will probably be expecting a reply," remarked the Chief.
"Can't help it." I returned, "She will have no reply from me."
With this, the Chief turned and walked away and I was once more alone. Other callers came and went, but just whom these may have been. I cannot now recall. As my readers may well imagine. I was of troubled mind and my memory of the happenings of that afternoon is not of the best.
I do remember, however, of having received a reply to a message I sent Mr. Heney, conveying information that he would call on me. This, of itself, was encouraging, though what his actions toward me might be when he came, was purely speculative. I still had hope, of course, that he would listen to my story and that he would learn and believe the truth, as it was my intention that he should receive it from me. The suspense, nevertheless, was great and I could only have wished that, instead of replying to my message, he might have appeared in person.
Some two or three hours later the Chief called on me again and mentioned having met Airs. Marie McKinley on the street corner waiting for a car to take her back to Oakland, when he was on his way to the barber shop after handing me Marie's note that I had refused to read.
The incidents connected with this meeting, as related to me by the Chief and as near as I can remember, are in substance, as follows:
"When she saw me approaching her," said the Chief, "she advanced to meet me and asked if I delivered her note to you, which I said I had, but that, instead of reading it. you tore the note into small pieces and tossed it through the bars to the floor at my feet.
"When I told her this," continued the Chief, "she broke out and sobbed like a child, declaring she believed that you blamed her for being captured, and begging that I return and plead with you to grant her an interview.
"This I did not think best, so advised her to go on home and promised that I would talk with you personally and it is my opinion, Mr. Puter, if I am any judge of human nature at all, that this little woman had nothing to do with the matter. Of one thing I am certain," continued the Chief, "Mrs. McKinley was deeply affected and her declarations of innocence and the manner in which she conducted herself, appealed to me as being most convincing that she was in no way implicated in the plot to effect your arrest."
I was gratified to learn this, as I had no desire to blame any one wrongfully, more especially my old partner's wife, a man for whom, as Marie well knew, I had done everything within my power during the many years of our business and social relations together. I was disposed, upon first learning of what had taken place, to hold Marie partially responsible, and the thought of her having contributed to such a dastardly plot, after our long years of acquaintance and in the face of all the little kindnesses I had bestowed upon both herself and Horace, made my capture doubly bitter. I was glad, therefore, for the opportunity to relieve my mind on this point, and to believe that Horace's wife was not responsible for the treachery I had attributed to her. I was also glad, some time 
On the following morning, shortly before noon, the Chief informed me that Mr. Heney was in the office, and a few minutes later, he appeared at my cell. It required but a glance, even before he had an opportunity to speak, to satisfy me that Mr. Heney felt kindly toward me. His face wore a serious expression as he approached, but was not stern and cold, appearing rather as that of one who was vexed and sad, and when his eyes met mine and we were face to face. I could readily see in his every action and expression the man of sorrow and pity because of my trying position and the circumstances under which we were forced to meet.
He frankly stated that I had done wrong in going away and said, because of my having done so, he regretted to inform me that it would probably become impossible for him to do as much for me as he otherwise could.
After our conversation, which probably lasted 40 minutes, during which I related to Mr. Heney as briefly as possible all the circumstances surrounding my recent adventures and my purpose in returning to the Pacific Coast and of the efforts I had made to meet him. I felt somewhat encouraged, as he listened very attentively to everything I had to say. He appeared to appreciate my position and to realize that I told him the truth, exactly as I knew it to be. Mr. Heney, before leaving, informed me that I would shortly be removed to the Alameda County jail at Oakland, where I could remain until such time as I could arrange affairs with my family, when I would be transferred to Oregon. In bidding me goodbye, Mr. Heney stated that he would probably call again, but in any event, he would see me in Oakland before I left for the North.
I remained in the Alameda City jail either three or four days in all, when United States Marshal John H. Shine, accompanied by one of his deputies, called and informed the Chief that he was ready to remove me to San Francisco, where I was commanded to appear before the Judge of the Federal Court, preliminary to my removal to Oregon.
The Chief informed me of the Marshal's presence and of his purpose in calling, and removed me to his private office, v^here T was securely ironed by Marshal Shine. He then led me to a carriage in waiting, and invited me to step inside, after which, he took a seat by my side, while his deputy occupied the seat facing me. and we were thus driven to the Federal building in San Francisco.
Arriving there, I was taken to the Marshal's office, relieved of my irons and escorted by a squad of deputies to the Court room and before Judge Dc Haven, waived the reading of all documents and indicated my willingness to return to Oregon without the necessity of further delay.
I was then taken back to the Marshal's office, where I met and talked v.nth Mr. Heney. and also had the pleasure of meeting and conversing with William J. Burns. As this was the first time I had encountered Mr. Burns since my escape from him in Boston, my curiosity was somewhat aroused as to how he would greet me. and noticing, when I caught his eye. that it was his purpose to speak, I walked toward him, and as he extended his hand. I remarked:
"I will be glad to shake hands with you, Mr. Burns, if you feel you can do so in the same friendly way you have always done in the past."
"I haven't a thing in the world against you. Mr. Puter," was the reply, as Mr. Burns grasped my hand.
"Glad to hear that." I replied, and continuing said: "You know, Mr. Burns, I had no intention of injuring you when I made that fight in Boston—my only thought, in fact, was to get away."
"Oh," replied Burns, "that was all right," and in turning away from me, as he did at that time, I was thoroughly convinced that his feelings toward me were not of the best, for whatever his remarks, the "glassy eye" which he gave me was evidence sufficient that forgiveness on his part was not so complete as he would have me believe.
I was then manacled again and taken to the Alameda County jail, in Oakland, by Marshal Shine and a deputy, and upon arriving there, was placed in a cell, to which there was no opening whatever, except the small one in the door through which the meals were passed. The cell itself was so situated as to exclude all light, except that which came through the wicket, or opening mentioned.
Adjoining the one in which I was placed, were two other cells, making three in a row and immediately opposite were three more, the corridors serving for all six cells, with two prisoners to each one. As the top of the corridor was made of flat iron or steel bars, above which there was a skylight, and there was a window within a few feet of the bars at one end of the corridor, the corridor itself was amply supplied with light during the day, but this light, as a stated heretofore, could not penetrate into the cell rooms proper, so the prisoners were in almost total darkness between the hours of 7 and 9 o'clock in the evening, when miniature electric lights were turned on.
At the time of my incarceration in the Alameda County jail, there were ten men, besides myself, or eleven of us in all, occupying the six cells. Some were serving jail sentences, while others were being held as witnesses, but all were treated alike, being permitted to exercise in the corridor between 7 and 8 o'clock every morning and from five to six in the evening; also being given the freedom of the corridor for a time on Friday of each week for the purpose of cleaning up their cell rooms and scrubbing the corridor. They were likewise permitted to occupy the corridor during the religious services which were conducted by members of the Salvation Army. All the balance of time, the prisoners were confined to their cells, which, because of the darkness prevailing throughout the day, were veritable dungeons.
The prisoners were not permitted to see the daily newspapers, it being one of the strict rules that no literature whatever should be allowed in the place, except such as the members of the Salvation Army, or other religious denominations might care to leave with us. It was amusing, during the day, to note the faces of other prisoners pressed to similar openings across the way, in an effort to devour the contents of the religious tracts that had been given them. Personally, I was not in a mood to become converted at that particular time, nor can I understand how any one else could do so under such trying circumstances, as the light furnished us was hardly sufficient to permit a person to read the headlines, without considering the fine print. During the twelve days of my confinement in this jail, I never saw Sheriff Barnett nor did I see Jailer Pete White but twice, when I was delivered into his custody by the United States Marshal upon entering, and at the time of my leaving the place.
The head "trusty," who had charge of the cells attached to all corridors, there being four corridors in all, was, in my opinion, the most contemptible piece of humanity with whom I had ever come in contact, and it is beyond me to understand how a jailer, who is supposed to be a man of some intelligence, if not education, could permit or tolerate such conditions as existed under this man's brutal and domineering management of the affairs of that bastile. To think that, in a civilized country, such as we feel proud to term our own, a jailer would turn over the management of affairs to a petty larceny thief of this trusty's caliber; a thing devoid of all feeling, a degenerate in appearance, with a look of villainous treachery in his eye and the mark of depravity and morbidness engraved in every feature. If ever a man bore the mark of Cain, it was this sullen beast that strutted to and fro, showering abuse and profanity upon those whom he was pleased to call his charges, and whom he treated as one lost to all reason might be expected to regard a mongrel cur upon the street.
One of the so-called conveniences for the accommodation of this prison's inmates, is what was known as the "screen room," to which the prisoners were ushered when called upon by friends. It was probably 8×12 feet in size, and surrounded by a wire screen, the meshes of which were so closely woven that it was impossible to see through them, and in addition to this, there was a second, or outer screen, similarly woven, which was placed about two feet distant and immediately in front of the person with whom the prisoner might be conversing. This arrangement, no doubt, was very good, insofar as protection against the introduction of contraband articles by the callers was concerned, but was a miserable place to hold a conversation in, as it was simply impossible to discern the features of the person with whom you might be conversing. In fact, a person could never tell with whom they were speaking, unless sufficiently well acquainted to recognize the voice. There was no secrecy observed, as the screen room frequently contained two or more prisoners, each of whom would he conversing with their friends at the same time.
Mrs. Puter called to see me daily, but was accorded no privileges, other than those extended to other callers. She pleaded with the jailer and also with the Sheriff, for a permit to see me and talk with me in private, but they coldly refused to grant her request.
I was not permitted to receive a meal brought to the jail by my wife, nor would they allow me to accept a bag of fruit. Neither were the prisoners allowed to send out to the restaurant for anything.
Concerning the food served the prisoners it was not my original intention to speak, as I believe, under such circumstances, one should put up with a great deal without offering complaint. It was of such vile character, however, as to warrant some comment, and I can truthfully say. whatever the crime or condition under which men may be forced into the Alameda County jail, under similar management to that which existed at the time I sojourned there, they are truly to be pitied. "Grub," as the prisoners called it. was too complimentary. Swill, in all truth would be a more appropriate term.
Those among the prisoners who had the price, might obtain a meal at any time from the jailer's table, by paying the sum of 50 cents extra.
I could never quite understand why there should be such a marked difference in the management of the Alameda County jail and the Alameda City jail, but I presume that the head of the institution has much to do with the way things are conducted.
During my four day's stay at the Alameda City jail, while I was made to feel my position as a prisoner in every sense of the word, at the same time, I was never treated in such a manner as would tend to force upon a man the feeling that he was not a human being, and I can only regret, since it was my lot to remain in confinement, that I was not permitted to occupy a cell in the jail over which Chief of Police John Conrad presided. I was his prisoner, but not his dog, nor was I ever so considered by him, and shall always hope for the time when I shall become better acquainted with him under more pleasant circumstances.
On the morning of the twelfth day of my confinement in the Alameda County jail, I received a message from Mr. Heney, informing me that I was to leave on the train for Oregon that night and that he would call to see me about seven o'clock in the evening. Upon receiving this information, I sent a message to my wife, advising her that I expected to leave for the North that same day, and asking her to call in the evening, when I hoped to be permitted to talk with her before my departure.
Mr. Heney and my wife arrived at the jail about the same time, and after talking with the former for about fifteen minutes, I was allowed to talk with Mrs. Puter for nearly half an hour, when the Marshal announced that the time had arrived when we must be going to the train.
After bidding my wife and daughter good bye, I was given into the custody of A. S. Dingley and J. W. Richards, the former being a Deputy U. S. Marshal, while the latter acted as his assistant for this particular occasion.
We proceeded to the Oakland mole by street car, where we boarded the Oregon Express at 8:30 for Portland, tickets having been previously purchased and the drawing room in the Pullman car engaged for the trip.
I rather anticipated being handcuffed on this trip, as Marshal Shine, of San Francisco, was very careful to place the shackles on me at the time of my removal from the Alameda City jail to the Federal Court room and later, on the trip to the County jail, so it was only natural, of course, that Mr. Dingley, his deputy, would be expected to take the same precaution. I was agreeably surprised, however, to find that I was not to be so treated and was surprised still more, upon entering our room, to have Mr. Dingley suggest to me that I might occupy either of the three berths, whichever one I preferred.
I was not regarded as a prisoner at any time during the trip to Oregon, but rather as a guest or companion, and aside from Mr. Dingley and his assistant, it was not known to the other passengers but that the trio were making a tour of the country on pleasure bent. I attribute the treatment accorded to Mr. Heney's good offices, for he must have known that 1 was not of the kind to escape, or attempt such a thing, under the circumstances.
Upon arriving in Portland, we took breakfast at the cafe in the Union Depot, after which, finding that it was yet too early to expect Marshal Reed in his office, we sat about and read the morning paper until 9:30, when we walked to United States Marshal C. J. Reed's office.
Upon entering, Mr. Reed seemed surprised to see us, as he had no intimation that we were to arrive on that particular morning. I was formally turned over to the custody of Mr. Reed by Mr. Dingley, at which time, I was informed that my bond had been fixed at $25,000, and as I stated that no attempt would be made to furnish the bond in question, I was immediately transferred to the Multnomah County jail, being turned over to the custody of Jailer Harry Grafton, under Sheriff Tom M. Word.
My first act after reaching the County jail at Portland, was to telegraph to my brother and attorney, Lawrence F. Puter, at Eureka, Humboldt County, California, requesting him to come to Portland at once, as I wished to consult with him in regard to my future plans. Upon his arrival here, I immediately enlisted his services to proceed East and interview those with whom I had become involved in connection with State School lands with a view of arranging an amicable settlement of the difficulty later on, and which difficulty was the cause of my skipping to Boston in the first place to avoid arrest until settlement could be made or an understanding arrived at. This difficulty, I might state here, had no connection whatever with the land fraud trials in which the Government had secured my conviction. I make mention of this fact, simply to show that in escaping from Secret Service Agent Burns in Boston, it was not because of any fear on account of the Government's case, but because of what might result in the other matters, in event of my being arrested and taken into custody.
My brother made the trip East and was reasonably successful in his mission and upon his return, some three weeks later, he advised me to withdraw my motion for a new trial and to accept sentence and which, he stated, in his opinion, would be very light and not to exceed six or nine months, at the very outside, in the County jail. He thought this the best way out of the difficulty and that, if I should decide to follow his advice, sentence would be imposed immediately and it would not seem long, he reasoned, until my time had been served and I would then be free to engage in some legitimate pursuit which would enable me to square up old accounts with the Eastern people and begin life anew.
I accepted his judgment in the matter and on the following day, July 6th, 1906, I appeared before Hon. Charles E. Wolverton, U. S. Federal Judge for the District of Oregon, and was sentenced to confinement in the Multnomah County jail for a term of two years, and, in addition, that I was to pay a fine of $7,500. This sentence came as very much of a surprise to me, as I little expected 
I could not understand, nor do I to this day, why this great difference, for while I am free to acknowledge that Senator Mitchell occupied an exalted position in the State and Nation; that he was possessed of more education and a brain of greater force and development than that to which I could lay claim, I could not but believe that if anything, he was the greater criminal of the two. This man, elected to one of the highest positions in the gift of the Nation by the representatives of the people at large in the State of Oregon, respected and honored alike both at home and abroad, an able lawyer and prince of diplomacy, and a man, who, in all truth, was actually worshipped by his constituents, had, as the people of his State and Nation know, been indicted, tried, and convicted by the fellow citizens of his own State, and that, too, of a similar crime to my own—conspiracy to defraud the Government out of a portion of its public lands, but which, in Senator Mitchell's case, was by far the greater offense of the two, as to him had been entrusted the power to participate in the making of the very laws which he afterwards saw fit to violate, while I, occupying only the position of a plain citizen, uncultured and virtually without education, aspiring merely for the commonplace things of life, ambitious only that I might be able to provide comfortably for my family and place my children in reach of an education, I must submit to longer imprisonment and to suffer the imposition of a seven fold greaer fine.
It is probably not proper for me to criticise the wisdom of the trial judges in passing the respective sentences, but I must admit, if judgment was correct in both instances, it is beyond my power of comprehension.
It is true, of course, that Mr. Heney agreed that I should not be prosecuted on any of the other indictments against me, provided I withdrew my motion for a new trial and accepted sentence, but even at that, it appeared to me, because of the valuable information I gave to the Government officials and which enabled them to secure indictments against Senator John H. Mitchell and others, I should not have been so severely dealt with. It was the "big men" that the Government was after anyway—men holding high official positions, and men who were supposed to know better and to govern their actions accordingly. Besides, it has always been customary, from time immemorial, to deal leniently with any one furnishing their State or Government with information which would result in securing convictions of the principals to a crime, or conspiracy to commit crime.
I had been confined something less than a month when Robert L. Stevens, the newly elected Sheriff, took charge of the institution. Upon assuming control of the Sheriff's office, Mr. Stevens appointed Geo. T. Mitchell as Jailer, he having officiated in a similar capacity under Sheriff" William Fraser, whose office terminated some four years prior to Sheriff' Stevens' induction into office.
I had served something like three or four weeks of my sentence under Sheriff Stevens' administration, when I learned that I was to be moved to other quarters in the jail, United States Marshal Reed having directed that I be accorded the best accommodations possible. I was thereupon transferred to a room by myself, which was ten feet wide by fourteen feet long and nine feet high, with cement walls, nicely kalsomined and a hardwood floor and double windows, each of which were two and one-half by five feet in size, facing the street on the east side of the building. This room possessed electric lights, besides hot and cold water and a toilet, with furniture consisting of a large square writing table and two comfortable chairs, which was afterwards supplemented by the addition of a typewriting machine and stand. The entire jail was steamheated.
Meals were served thrice daily excepting on Sundays, when luncheon was omitted. They were all remarkably wholesome, and compared very favorably with those obtainable at first-class local restaurants for fifty cents.
I might state here that of all my experiences with jail life—covered by my confinement in the Alameda City jail for four days, the Alameda County jail for twelve days, and my incarceration in the Multnomah County jail from June, 1906, to January 6, 1908—I consider the latter the best conducted institution of its kind I ever encountered. It may be added, however, that the treatment accorded me by Chief of Police Conrad during my brief stay as his guest, could not be surpassed. He certainly exercises a humane spirit in the conduct of the Alameda City jail, but naturally his facilities are inferior to those connected with the Portland institution.
Robert L. Stevens, the Sheriff of Multnomah County, is without doubt the right man in the right place. I had ample opportunity to study conditions during my long stay in his charge, and am in a position to state with every degree of sincerity that his management of affairs could hardly be improved upon. He is kind and courteous to all, and at the same time commands the respect and confidence of those in his keeping. He is a man of courage and high character, and I do not believe he has ever had a prisoner that has failed to take a personal pride in conducting himself in such a manner as to reflect credit upon Mr. Stevens' administration.
No sooner had he assumed the duties of his office, than he instituted a crusade against the accumulated filth of past administrations, with the result that every nook and corner of the establishment was thoroughly cleansed, the walls carefully whitewashed, the cells painted and all the sanitary conditions vastly improved. This in itself had a tendency to exercise a potent influence over those in confinement, seeming to inspire them with a desire to co-operate with the spirit of reform. In fact, upon the principle that "music hath charms to soothe the savage breast," I believe that any turbulent nature is more readily controlled in an atmosphere of refinement than under conditions that are liable to develop the baser instincts.
"Bob" Stevens exercises wonderful control over men, and this he accomplishes more through kindness than by any other process. There has never been any attempted jail-break during his term, and in my opinion there never will, because all the prisoners—among whom are some of the most desperate class of criminals—seem to feel that they would be violating a confidence by the commission of any act that would have a tendency to discredit the present Sheriff in public estimation. He rules with an iron hand through kindness, whereas, were he a brute, like too many who are given temporary control of human beings, there is no doubt he would be in constant hot water, as those in confinement are ever ready to go to any extreme in resenting ill-treatment.
Sheriff Stevens' entire force is composed of men eminently qualified to fill their respective places. At the time of his election, he was identified with a prominent local bank, and brought with him to the Sheriff's office those business principles that had governed his career for years. It all goes to show that when it comes to conducting a public office of any kind, it is always better to place business men instead of politicians in charge.
During the summer of 1907, Jailer Mitchell resigned, and was succeeded temporarily by R. F. Beatty, who continued to hold the position until October of that year, when Sheriff Stevens appointed H. P. ("Dad") Hunter to the place. The Sheriff made a wise selection in this instance, as "Dad" is undoubtedly one of the best men that ever turned a key on a poor unfortunate. A giant in stature, and a tower of strength physically, with disposition congenial enough to correspond with his size, he is one of the mo.st popular men I ever saw around an institution of this character. With it all, however, he maintains a strict enforcement of rules, and is certainly a valuable aid to the Sheriff in preserving discipline.
Frank Beatty also made a good Jailer during the brief period he held the position, but the close confinement proving irksome to one of his nature, at his own request he was transferred to field duty, where he has frequently distinguished himself in the clever capture of dangerous criminals.
Through the intercession of Francis J. Heney, President Roosevelt granted me a pardon on December 31, 1907, and it proved to be a very welcome New Year's gift, for, despite my pleasant surroundings, I was anxious to regain my liberty and take up the burdens of life on improved plans.
It is one of the ironies of fate that the official document containing the act of executive clemency reached me on January 6, 1908, and I walked forth a free man on my fifty-first birthday. 