"Go to San Angelo, Texas, at once."
Before leaving Dallas I had arranged with the sheriff and Miss Johnson to examine all letters received by Liza. On the morning of my arrival at San Antonio Liza received a letter from the San Angelo postoffice with the postmark plainly stamped upon it. I took the first train for San Angelo, which left that evening. We arrived at San Angelo next morning, Sunday.
San Angelo was, at the time, a small cattle shipping town, and within an hour after our arrival I learned that the negro, John Perry, had left San Angelo on Saturday evening, with a ticket to Lampasas, Texas. I also learned that I could not leave for Lampasas until Sunday evening, as there was only one daily train each day. Sunday evening we left for Lampasas, where we arrived about 8:00 a. m. Monday morning. Lampasas was the county seat and it was court week. The town was filled to overflowing by reason of the court. The depot was about one-half mile from the postoffice in the center of the city. Getting off the train the boy and myself walked over to the hotel, and as we neared the postoffice we noticed a large crowd around it evidently waiting for mail. The boy from Dallas called my attention to a colored man, who was wearing a light Fedora hat, with a blue serge suit, and was well dressed. He stood away from the crowd near the postoffice, evidently waiting for mail. The boy pointed to him and said, "That's the nigger that I sold that piece of pipe to."
We were in front of the store when he recognized John Perry, whom it proved to be. I told the boy to stay right there until I had captured the negro. He could then quietly follow us to the jail unobserved. I went over near the place where the negro stood and concluded that I would wait until he had received mail, which he was evidently expecting. In a few moments the negroes formed a line to the window where they received their mail. In a short time John reached the window and received a letter. He left the line and walked around the corner of the building, opened the letter and took from it a couple of bank notes, hastily placed them in his vest pocket and proceeded to read the letter, which was written in lead pencil. Meanwhile, I had gotten within reach of him without being noticed by him or any one else, when I suddenly threw a 41-calibre Colt revolver into his face, commanding him to throw up his hands. To my surprise he suddenly plunged his hand inside the waist of his trousers and attempted to draw a nine-inch barrel, 45-calibre Colts, concealed under his vest. Before he could draw it I seized his hand and his revolver and commanded him in forcible tone to desist. The moment I leveled my revolver on him the crowd's attention was attracted. One of them, who was standing very close, was about six feet tall, and really the thinnest looking individual I had ever seen. He wore a hat with a very wide brim, making him look much thinner. He promptly threw a 45 Colt on both of us, and with a voice as shrill as a wild goose, yelled, "Heah, heah, I am the sheriff of this county and I command peace."
To which I replied, "Mr. Sheriff, take hold of this negro. I'm an officer from Dallas and have arrested him for murdering a white man there."
The sheriff grabbed one side and I the other, and we started for the jail, nearby. The crowd hearing that I had arrested him for the murder of a white man, talked of lynching, but the sheriff, whom they knew and respected, told them that the prisoner should be dealt with by law, and that he intended to protect him. We took him to jail, where I searched him. I took from him the letter which he had just received, and which he tried to tear in pieces. I also took the two bank notes which he had received in the letter. They proved to be two treasury notes. I placed the fragments of the letter together, which had been mailed from Dallas and which read about as follows:
"I enclose you one hundred dollars, on receipt of which you must go quietly and at once to the City of Mexico. I will join you there. Detectives are on to us, and you must not let them catch you. It would be fatal." (Signed) John Perry.
I took everything of a metallic nature from him, and had the sheriff lock him up in a cell, as I knew he would be compelled to remain in Lampasas for twenty-four hours, until we could get a train for Dallas.
By the time he was searched and locked up it was nearly the dinner hour, and I instructed the sheriff to feed the prisoner, but not to allow him a knife or any article with which he could do himself bodily harm. I explained to him that it was very important that I get the prisoner back to Dallas safely, as we wanted to get a statement from him as to why he had killed Temple.
I had just gone into the dining room to get something to eat, when a deputy sheriff rushed into the room and called my name, to which I answered. He said excitedly, "Come to the jail at once. That nigger of yours has cut his damned head nearly off."