CHAPTER XLVIII.
THE OFFICERS IN CHARGE OF FOULK STOPPED BY A LOCAL OFFICIAL AT TOPEKA—THE HABEAS CORPUS DRAWN ON THEM—A LONG FIGHT FOR THE POSSESSION OF FOULK—HE IS LIBERATED AND AGAIN ARRESTED, AND STOLEN AWAY BY SMITH AND M’KEEVER, WHO LAND HIM SAFE IN THE KEYSTONE STATE.
But all was not accomplished, and not by any means the worst of it. The officers sailed along over the Kansas Pacific quite smoothly. All went well until they reached Topeka, Kan., where the party stopped to get dinner. At this point W. D. Disbrow, the sheriff of Shawnee county, met the officers on the platform on their way to dinner. The sheriff stepped up boldly to the party, handing Mr. McKeever a paper purporting to be a writ of habeas corpus, and laying his hand on Foulk, said, “And this is my prisoner!” claiming that a requisition upon the governor of Colorado would not hold good while a prisoner was in Kansas. Here was more of the work of the Denver lawyers.
Quite a scene now ensued, and a crowd soon gathered around the platform. High words followed, and both parties persistently claimed Foulk as their prisoner. Foulk here had an opportunity to display his wrath, and he seized it at once. He appealed to the crowd around him that he was arrested illegally—had been robbed of his money—torn away from his wife—had been given no “show” whatever—was the wrong man, etc.
The prisoner was then taken before Judge Carey, who concluded to postpone the case, as he alleged, “to obtain evidence to prove that the prisoner was not Foulk,” but ostensibly for the purpose of bringing on a lawyer from Denver to Topeka, with a view of having Foulk released if possible. The sheriff’s writ claimed that the prisoner was not C. H. Foulk. Judge Carey decided that the officer who had him in charge was bound to prove that the prisoner was the identical man wanted—C. H. Foulk. But on their part the Topeka crowd had no evidence to offer that the prisoner was Curtis and not Foulk, although Mr. McKeever was ready to swear positively to Foulk’s identification. Strangely enough, Judge Carey discharged the prisoner in the very face of the fact that Mr. McKeever knew the prisoner well and was ready so to testify.
Mr. McKeever then desired Sheriff Disbrow to rearrest Foulk, and Detective Smith stepped up to the sheriff and said:
“I demand of you to arrest this man (pointing to Foulk), and hold him as a fugitive from justice from the state of Pennsylvania, until we can have time to swear out the necessary papers to hold him.”
Sheriff Disbrow, however, persistently refused to interfere.
Mr. McKeever then inquired of Judge Carey whether “Sheriff Disbrow had not the right to arrest Foulk without a warrant.” The judge shook his head.
Detective Smith: “Judge, won’t you order the sheriff to arrest him till we take out the necessary papers?”
Judge Carey: “I have no right to do so.”
Foulk’s attorneys, Messrs. Brown and Carlisle, together with Sheriff Disbrow and one or two of his deputies, then hurried the prisoner across the street to a blacksmith shop, where Sheriff Disbrow ordered the smith to “take off this man’s irons, and do it quickly.” Meanwhile a crowd of about forty or fifty persons gathered around the smith shop to witness the proceeding. In the shop stood a horse hitched to a post. The officers expected that Foulk, after his shackles were removed, would spring upon the animal’s back and gallop off. “Had the prisoner attempted that move,” said Detective Smith, afterwards, “instead of landing him safe in Harrisburg, he perhaps would now be looking from behind the bars of the Topeka prison.”
Soon as Foulk started out of the court room, Mr. McKeever repaired to the office of Justice Serrell to procure a warrant. Remaining away rather long, Mr. Smith went after him and pressed the justice for the warrant desired. The justice replied, “I can not give you a warrant without a complaint.” Mr. Smith then made the charge himself, and carrying the document before the justice of the peace, swore to the same and obtained a warrant for the rearrest of Foulk.
Smith then looked for the sheriff or one of his deputies (there were three or four in all), but found only one of the deputies. He stated to the man that he now had a warrant for the rearrest of Foulk, and desired the deputy to go with him and arrest Foulk speedily as possible. The deputy laughed in Mr. Smith’s face and said: “Oh, I have not the time to spare!”
After a full half-day’s work, Constable Fred Miller was found, and he agreed to serve the warrant. The same afternoon at 3 o’clock Foulk was given a hearing, and held in $4,000 for ten days.
The requisition from Gov. Hartranft to the governor of Kansas arrived on the next Sunday, and on Monday the governor’s warrant came to hand. Thus matters rested till 9 o’clock Monday night, when the officers who had Foulk in charge caused it to be reported that they would start East on Tuesday morning. One of Foulk’s lawyers repaired to the sheriff’s office and told that officer not to deliver up Foulk after night. District Attorney Vance stated to Sheriff Disbrow that he was in duty bound to hand over the prisoner whenever the officer wanted to go East with him.
The officers then devised the following plan of action in order that there might be no further interference. They made, or rather pretended to make, confidants of a number of Topekans, and stated to them that they would leave Topeka by team; would strike for the Atchison and Nebraska railroad at Brenner’s station, fourteen miles northwest of Atchison; that it would take three or four days to get there, and by that time the friends of Foulk would leave the track of them and give them no further trouble. This ruse worked splendidly. Instead of taking the above route, they left North Topeka the same night, driving at a rapid gait three-quarters of a mile; thence headed southward the same distance; then headed due east to Lawrence, distance twenty-eight miles—all after dark. From Lawrence they drove to Plymouth Hill station, Mo., 120 miles from Topeka, traveling with Foulk now as a companion, having no irons on him. The above distance was made from Monday, 9 p. m., till Tuesday, 7:55 p. m., when they boarded the Missouri Pacific train eastward bound.
McKeever procured the tickets and attended to the baggage while Mr. Smith got Foulk on the train on the side opposite the platform, unobserved. Three tickets were purchased for St. Louis, one of which was placed in Foulk’s hands, so that the conductor could obtain it without exciting suspicion. Smith sat behind the prisoner and McKeever opposite.
Directly afterward a well built, robust man came through the cars, stopping in front of Detective Smith, eyeing him and Foulk sharply. (The man was supposed to be an officer with an official paper.) Eyeing Mr. Smith for a few minutes, he said:
“Ain’t your name William Johnson?”
“My name is William Franklin,” replied Mr. Smith.
The stranger continued: “I thought I knew you; once knew a man resembling you very much.”
“Guess you have struck the wrong man,” replied the officer.
The stranger walked off and left the train at Sedalia, Mo., at 10:15 a. m. Detective Smith had a curiosity to know more about him and stepped out upon the platform, where he observed the man walk up to three others, and handing them a paper, remarked: “They are not on this train.”
All hands feeling fatigued after two days’ excitement and an all-night drive, they took a sleeping car and retired, Foulk consenting to sleep between them. The officers, however, never closed their eyes. Next morning they reached St. Louis, and from that point to Harrisburg had no further trouble. Foulk denied his name until the party reached St. Louis, where he admitted that he was Foulk and not Curtis. He was met at the depot by a number of his former friends, who cordially shook him by the hand.
He was taken to Carlisle by Detective Smith, who collected his reward and returned home, the money found upon Foulk being turned over when it became known to whom it belonged. Next to Foulk himself, his Denver attorneys fared worse than any one else. They fell into great disfavor because of the part they took in the affair, and one of them soon left the city and has not been seen in it since. Of course the damage suit against Cook was soon dismissed.
The charges against Foulk were not proven, and after coming back to Denver and getting his money, he went to Hot Springs, Ark., where in partnership with another man he opened up a big gambling hall. Gen. Cook met him there in 1883, going by the name of Potts. A couple of years after that Foulk was shot by a negro policeman who was trying to halt him for fast driving. The policeman called to him to stop, and he told him to “go to h—l.” The policeman shot him through the back of the head, killing him instantly.
A DESPERATE RAILROAD CONTRACTOR.