upon him by Col. Whitley and his men, an immense quantity of spurious money, and other material of great value to the koniacker and his pals. But he cannot be charged with treachery to his friends of the craft, whatever else may be laid at his door.
When arrested at Cincinnati, Mac had $3,500 of good money in his possession. Upon demanding this, it was not forthcoming. A portion of the amount (1.400) was procured by Col. Whitley and returned to the prisoner, subsequently; but the remaining $2,000 McCartney steadily declares "he has been beaten out of, by the local police," there. "They shook it out of me, and said it had been stolen from the desk," he adds. "But I will get it, yet." They also declared that I was only "a stall," and that "my release was part of the arrangement previously made, for another purpose. Now the fact is, I walked out of that jail without hindrance at the opportune moment, and if I could see the man who held the keys, I could identify him. But I don't know who he was."
Though the career of others whose stories follow will be found more exciting, more romantic, or more striking, no one among those we describe possesses a keener spirit, or a more subtle disposition than does Pete McCartney. And, although his last arrest by the U. S. Detectives, under Col. Whitley, has proved so important, by itself, but little is really known in further detail, as yet, of this extraordinary man's actual character.
