The other members of the Rock Creek gang were tried. Harrington turned state’s evidence, but being sent to Fort McKinney to identify supposed stage robbers, was shot by a man named Smith, who claimed that Harrington had killed his brother. Very little could be proved against Douglas, except as to his evil intentions. He had been superintendent of the Rock Creek stage line, and used his knowledge obtained through his position to aid the stage robbers in their work, notifying them by letter or telegraph, signed “Henry Ward Beecher,” when there was treasure or “good plucking” on the coaches. He had never been in a robbery, so far as could be proven, and was given only one year in the penitentiary. Manuse and Ruby were sentenced to four years each, and Erwin, the captain, and Condon, “The Kid,” were sentenced for life. As for Howard, he was made a detective on the railroad, and rendered the company valuable service. The robbers have sworn to have vengeance upon him for betraying them and being the primary cause of their getting into the hands of the officers instead of procuring big booty and retiring to the safe recesses of the great Northwest.
IN THE EXPRESS BUSINESS.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
BIG SUMS OF MONEY CARRIED THROUGH THIEF-INFESTED DISTRICTS WITHOUT LOSS—A REMARKABLE TRIP TO LEADVILLE IN 1878—GEN. COOK SAVES A MINING COMPANY SEVERAL HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS BY HIS PROMPTNESS.
Along in the ’60’s and early ’70’s when Colorado was not covered with a network of railroad and telegraph lines as it is to-day, bankers and others who wished to transmit large sums of money from one point to another were often put to sore straits for some means to accomplish their object. The stage coaches which carried mail, passengers and express to nearly every part of the state, were too risky. Holdups were of frequent occurrence, often it was thought through the connivance and assistance of the drivers themselves. Then, too, they were slow and uncertain; a washout or snowslide might detain them for days at a time.
Accordingly it became necessary to secure the services of men who were not only honest and trustworthy themselves, but who were known to be “handy with a gun,” and who would risk their lives if necessary for the protection of the property entrusted to their care. It was because of this that the Rocky Mountain Detective Association was often called upon when any particularly large sums of money were to be carried from Denver to mountain towns. One or two cases are called to mind, not only by the implicit confidence displayed by the bankers in Gen. Cook and his aides, but also by the faithful manner in which they discharged the responsible duties which they were called upon to perform.
In January, 1870, Kountze Bros., of the Colorado National Bank of Denver, who are still the leading bankers of the whole western country, were running a branch bank at Central City, known as the Rocky Mountain National. A well known mill man, whose name has been forgotten, came in one day to secure an additional loan of $2,500 on his mill, which was already mortgaged for $25,000. The local manager, of course, refused to make the loan, and the fellow went out of the bank with the threat that he would “fix ’em.” And he came pretty nearly doing so, too. He rode around to the various camps, telling the men that if they had any money in the bank at Central they had better get it out in a hurry, as the bank was practically “busted.” “Why,” he said, “I couldn’t get $2,500 on my mill from them.” As his property was popularly supposed to be worth $30,000 or more, this of course frightened hundreds of timid depositors, and a run on the bank was begun at once.
The local manager hurriedly dispatched a messenger to Denver for aid. Mr. Charles Kountze, one of the firm, hastily counted out $50,000, and placing it in a grip, sent for Gen. Cook to accompany him to Central. Placing the grip under the buggy seat, and a couple of good guns where they could be easily got at, Cook and Kountze drove out of Denver at 11 o’clock at night, and arrived in Central the next morning after a hard drive. A wild mob surged around the bank as soon as the doors were opened, and though the tellers were paying off depositors as rapidly as possible, Kountze feared that there might be trouble, and employed Gen. Cook to remain in the bank as a guard that day. At the close of banking hours they hitched up their rig and drove back to Denver, reaching the city about 1 o’clock that night. As they crossed the Platte bridge, Kountze said to Cook: “Dave, you’ll have to go right back again to-night.”