Hands Up; or, Thirty-Five Years of Detective Life in the Mountains and on the Plains / Reminiscences by General D. J. Cook, Chief of the Rocky Mountains Detective Association

by D. J.‏ ‎ Cook

SEMINOLE AND WOODRUFF, THE MURDERERS, MAKE THEIR FIRST APPEARANCE IN MIDDLE PARK, WHERE THEY TURN UP AS ROBBERS AND TRICKSTERS—A VISIT TO LEADVILLE AND GEORGETOWN WITH ACCOMPANYING INCIDENTS—OLD MAN HAYWARD ENTICED FROM HOME NEAR GOLD HILL AND FOULLY DEALT WITH—THE MURDERERS COME TO DENVER AND ESCAPE ON STOLEN HORSES—CHIEF COOK ON THEIR TRACK—A DETECTIVE AT PINE RIDGE AGENCY—THE VICTIM’S BODY FOUND A MONTH AFTER THE MURDER—A GREAT CRIME AND A PROFOUND MYSTERY.

In all the criminal history of Colorado—in all the register of the achievements of the Rocky Mountain Detective Association—the ensanguined pages show no more causeless, unprovoked murder than that of R. B. Hayward, in September, 1879. The difficulties met and overcome by the detectives, and the prompt and tragic end of the criminals, lend an additional interest to the case and make it one of the most famous in the far West, as it is most assuredly one of the most noted in Colorado in some of its features. The absence of any material temptation; the temporary escape of the murderers; the accidental finding of the body of the victim; the patient search of the officers; the final arrest of the men hundreds of miles away; the identification and confession; and then the lynching, so rich in dramatic detail, form a narrative reading more like a sensational romance than the cold facts of an actual reality.

On the 10th of August, 1879, Gen. D. J. Cook, superintendent of the Rocky Mountain Detective Association, received a dispatch from Sheriff Besey, of Grand county, Colo., telling him to keep a sharp lookout for a man looking very much like a Chinaman, and evidently with some Indian blood in his veins, who was wanted for the robbery of the house of Mr. Frank Byers, in Middle park. The robber had secured a watch and a few trinkets of more or less value, and then, helping himself to a mule, had departed for other fields. This robbery had occurred on the 8th, and the intricate machinery of the detectives was put in motion as soon as notified, for Mr. Byers was a well-known citizen, and presently information began to take shape and flow through the properly appointed channels to headquarters.

It was found that on the 12th, four days after the Byers robbery, and two after the detectives had been notified, the robber had appeared in Georgetown and called upon Dr. William A. Burr, giving his name as Joseph F. Seminole, and stating that he came from Emerson Kinney, of Hot Sulphur Springs, who desired the medical gentleman’s immediate presence, as Mrs. Kinney was dangerously ill.

“When you get about six miles out of town on the road to Empire,” said the cool and crafty scoundrel, “stop at the ranch of Mr. Lindstrom and get my mule, which I left there. It will be much better for you to use my animal than to ride your own on such a long and hard trip. When you reach the Summit house, in Berthoud pass, just present this order and the proprietor will furnish you with a horse and buggy.”

The order that was given read as follows:

“Please give to Dr. W. A. Burr, horse and buggy, and charge same to Emerson Kinney, of Hot Sulphur Springs, on same order as before.

“J. F. SEMINOLE.”

When the doctor reached Lindstrom’s place he exchanged his horse for the mule left by Seminole, and continued on his way. At the Summit house the foregoing order was presented, but the proprietor declined to furnish a conveyance on the strength of it, saying that he did not know Seminole at all, but offering a horse and buggy if the doctor would be personally responsible for it, a proposition which the latter accepted. At last Mr. Kinney’s ranch was reached, and to his utter stupefaction the doctor found that his expected patient was not only never in better health, but had not the slightest idea of being sick. Breathing vengeance deep and dire, the good-hearted but exasperated doctor started on his return, and when Lindstrom’s was again reached, he was greeted with the intelligence that Seminole had been there and secured his horse, and to this day that animal has never been seen, or even heard of.

Thus far the detectives got, and then were balked. To them it was but a case of robbery—they never dreamed how soon it was to develop into a ghastly murder. Somewhat piqued at their non-success, although the crime was comparatively but a paltry one, they continued their efforts, and after a while traced Seminole to Leadville, where, on the 7th of September, he, in company with a man known as Tom Johnson, whose correct name proved to be Samuel Woodruff, hired two horses for the avowed purpose of merely taking a little ride. While skirmishing around, they noticed a Mr. Aldrich draw two hundred dollars from a bank, and learned that he was going immediately to Georgetown. They followed behind him, and when six miles from his destination rode up to him, drew their pistols and called upon him to halt and deliver. Aldrich, however, was not of that kind, and jerked his own weapon and turned loose, though, unfortunately, not hitting either of the two scoundrels, who turned and fled precipitately. When he arrived in Georgetown, he promptly notified the sheriff of Clear Creek county, and that official immediately struck the trail and followed it up without the loss of a moment. So rapidly did he gain on the fleeing desperadoes that they dismounted from their horses, turned the animals loose and made their escape in the brush. The animals were returned to their owners and the sheriff abandoned the pursuit of the men.