THE PASSING OF PEG-LEG
In the early part of September, ’91,
the eastern overland express on the Denver and Rio
Grande was held up and robbed at Texas Creek.
The place is little more than a watering-station on
that line, but it was an inviting place for hold-ups.
Surrounded by the fastnesses of the
front range of the Rockies, Peg-Leg Eldridge and his
band selected this lonely station as best fitted for
the transaction in hand. To the southwest lay
the Sangre de Cristo range, in which the band had
rendezvoused and planned this robbery. Farther
to the southwest arose the snow-capped peaks of the
Continental Divide, in whose silent solitude an army
might have taken refuge and hidden.
It was an inviting country to the
robber. These mountains offered retreats that
had never known the tread of human footsteps.
Emboldened by the thought that pursuit would be almost
a matter of impossibility, they laid their plans and
executed them without a single hitch.
About ten o’clock at night,
as the train slowed up as usual to take water, the
engineer and fireman were covered by two of the robbers.
The other two—there were only four—cut
the express car from the train, and the engineer and
fireman were ordered to decamp. The robbers ran
the engine and express car out nearly two miles, where,
by the aid of dynamite, they made short work of a
through safe that the messenger could not open.
The express company concealed the amount of money
lost to the robbers, but smelters, who were aware of
certain retorts in transit by this train, were not
so silent. These smelter products were in gold
retorts of such a size that they could be made away
with as easily as though they had reached the mint
and been coined.
There was scarcely any excitement
among the passengers, so quickly was it over.
While the robbery was in progress the wires from this
station were flashing the news to headquarters.
At a division of the railroad one hundred and fifty-six
miles distant from the scene of the robbery, lived
United States Marshal Bob Banks, whose success in pursuing
criminals was not bounded by the State in which he
lived. His reputation was in a large measure
due to the successful use of bloodhounds. This
officer’s calling compelled him to be both plainsman
and mountaineer. He had the well-deserved reputation
of being as unrelenting in the pursuit of criminals
as death is in marking its victims.
Within half an hour after the robbery
was reported at headquarters, an engine had coupled
to a caboose at the division where the marshal lived.
He was equally hasty. To gather his arms and get
his dogs aboard the caboose required but a few moments’
time.
Everything ready, they pulled out
with a clear track to their destination. Heavy
traffic in coal had almost ruined the road-bed, but
engine and caboose flew over it regardless of its condition.
Halfway to their destination the marshal was joined
by several officials, both railway and express.
From there the train turned westward, up the valley
of the Arkansas. Here was a track and an occasion
that gave the most daring engineer license to throw
the throttle wide open.
The climax of this night’s run
was through the Grand Cañon of the Arkansas.
Into this gash in the earth’s surface plunged
the engineer, as though it were an easy stretch of
down-grade prairie. As the engine rounded turns,
the headlight threw its rays up serried columns of
granite half a mile high,—columns that rear
their height in grotesque form and Gothic arch, polished
by the waters of ages.
As the officials agreed, after a full
discussion with the marshal of every phase and possibility
of capture, the hope of this night’s work and
the punishment of the robbers rested almost entirely
on three dogs lying on the floor, and, as the rocking
of the car disturbed them, growling in their dreams.
In their helplessness to cope with this outrage, they
turned to these dumb animals as a welcome ally.
Under the guidance of their master they were an aid
whose value he well understood. Their sense of
smell was more reliable than the sense of seeing in
man. You can believe the dog when you doubt your
own eyes. His opinion is unquestionably correct.
As the train left the cañon it was
but a short run to the scene of the depredation.
During the night the few people who resided at this
station were kept busy getting together saddle-horses
for the officer’s posse. This was not easily
done, as there were few horses at the station, while
the horses of near-by ranches were turned loose in
the open range for the night. However, upon the
arrival of the train, Banks and the express people
found mounts awaiting them to carry them to the place
of the hold-up.
After the robbers had finished their
work during the fore part of the night, the train
crew went out and brought back to the station the
engine and express car. The engine was unhurt,
but the express car was badly shattered, and the through
safe was ruined by the successive charges of dynamite
that were used to force it to yield up its treasure.
The local safe was unharmed, the messenger having opened
it in order to save it from the fate of its larger
and stronger brother. The train proceeded on
its way, with the loss of a few hours’ time and
the treasure of its express.
Day was breaking in the east as the
posse reached the scene. The marshal lost no
time circling about until the trail leaving was taken
up. Even the temporary camp of the robbers was
found in close proximity to the chosen spot.
The experienced eye of this officer soon determined
the number of men, though they led several horses.
It was a cool, daring act of Peg-Leg and three men.
Afterward, when his past history was learned, his
leadership in this raid was established.
Peg-Leg Eldridge was a product of
that unfortunate era succeeding the civil war.
During that strife the herds of the southwest were
neglected to such an extent that thousands of cattle
grew to maturity without ear-mark or brand to identify
their owner. A good mount of horses, a rope and
a running-iron in the hands of a capable man, were
better than capital. The good old days when an
active young man could brand annually fifteen calves—all
better than yearlings—to every cow he owned,
are looked back to to this day, from cattle king to
the humblest of the craft, in pleasant reminiscence,
though they will come no more. Eldridge was of
that time, and when conditions changed, he failed
to change with them. This was the reason that,
under the changed condition of affairs, he frequently
got his brand on some other man’s calf.
This resulted in his losing a leg from a gunshot at
the hands of a man he had thus outraged. Worse,
it branded him for all time as a cattle thief, with
every man’s hand against him. Thus the
steps that led up to this September night were easy,
natural, and gradual. This child of circumstances,
a born plainsman like the Indian, read in plain, forest,
and mountain, things which were not visible to other
eyes. The stars were his compass by night, the
heat waves of the plain warned him of the tempting
mirage, while the cloud on the mountain’s peak
or the wind in the pines which sheltered him alike
spoke to him and he understood.
The robbers’ trail was followed
but a few miles, when their course was well established.
They were heading into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.
Several hours were lost here by the pursuing party,
as they were compelled to await the arrival of a number
of pack horses; so when the trail was taken up in
earnest they were at least twelve hours behind the
robbers.
In the ascent of the foot-hills the
dogs led the posse, six in number, a merry chase.
As they gradually rose to higher altitudes the trail
of the robbers was more compact and easy to follow,
except for the roughness of the mountain slope.
Frequently the trail was but a single narrow path.
Old game trails, where the elk and deer, drifting in
the advance of winter, crossed the range, had been
followed by the robbers. These game trails were
certain to lead to the passes in the range. Thus,
by the instinct given to the deer and elk against the
winter’s storm, the humblest of His creatures
had blazed for these train robbers an unerring pathway
to the mountain’s pass.
Along these paths the trail was so
distinct that the dogs were an unnecessary adjunct
to the pursuing party. These hounds, one of which
was a veteran in the service, while the other two,
being younger, were without that practice which perfects,
showed an exuberance of energy and ambition in following
the trail. The ancestry of the dogs was Russian.
Hounds of this breed never give mouth, thus warning
the hunted of their approach. Man-hunting is exciting
sport. The possibility, though the trail may
look hours old, that any turn of the trail may disclose
the fugitives, keeps at the highest tension every
nerve of the pursuer.
All day long the marshal and posse
climbed higher and higher on the rugged mountainside.
Night came on as they reached the narrow plateau that
formed the crest of the mountain, on which they found
several small parks. Here they made the first
halt since the start in the morning. The necessity
of resting their saddle stock was very apparent to
Banks, though he would gladly have pushed on.
The only halt he could expect of the robbers was to
save their own horses, and he must do the same.
Forcing a tired horse an extra hour has left many an
amateur rider afoot. He realized this. Knowing
the necessity of being well mounted, the robbers had
no doubt splendid horses. This was a reasonable
supposition.
Near midnight the marshal and posse
set out once more on the trail. He was compelled
to take it afoot now, depending on his favorite dog,
which was under leash, the posse following with the
mounts. The dogs led them several miles southward
on this mountain crest. Here was where the dogs
were valuable. The robbers had traveled in some
places an entire mile over lava beds, not leaving
as much as a trace which the eye could detect.
Having the advantage of daylight, the robbers selected
a rocky cliff, over which they began the descent of
the western slope of this range. The ingenuity
displayed by them to throw pursuit from their trail
marked Peg-Leg as an artist in his calling. But
with the aid of dogs and the dampness of night, their
trail was as easily followed as though it had been
made in snow.
This declivity was rough, and in places
every one was compelled to dismount. Progress
was extremely slow, and when the rising sun tipped
the peaks of the Continental Range, before them lay
the beautiful landscape where the Rio Grande in a
hundred mountain streams has her fountain-head.
With only a few hours’ rest for men and animals
during the day, night fell upon them before they had
reached the mesa at the foot-hills on the western
slope. An hour before nightfall they came upon
the first camp or halt of the robbers. They had
evidently spent but a short time here, there being
no indication that they had slept. Criminals
are inured to all kinds of hardship. They have
been known to go for days without sleep, while smugglers,
well mounted, have put a hundred miles of country
behind them in a single night.
The marshal and party pushed forward
during the night, the country being more favorable.
When morning came they had covered many a mile, and
it was believed they had made time, as the trail seemed
fresher. There were several ranches along the
main stream in the valley, which the robbers had avoided
with well-studied caution, showing that they had passed
through in the daytime. There are several lines
of railroad running through this valley section.
These they crossed at points between stations, where
observation would be almost impossible either by day
or night. Inquiries at ranches failed on account
of the lack of all accurate means of description.
The posse was maintaining a due southwest course that
was carrying them into the fastnesses of the main
range of the western continent. Another full day
of almost constant advance, and the trail had entered
the undulating hills forming the approach of this
second range of mountains. Physical exertion
was beginning to tell on the animals, and they were
compelled to make frequent halts in the ascent of
this range.
The fatigue was showing in the two
younger dogs. Their feet had been cut in several
places in crossing the first range of mountains.
During the past nights in the valley, though their
master was keeping a sharp lookout, they encountered
several places where sand-burrs were plentiful.
These burrs in the tender inner part of a dog’s
foot, if not removed at once, soon lame it. Many
times had the poor creatures lain down, licking their
paws in anguish. On examination during the previous
night, their feet were found to be webbed with this
burr. Now, on climbing this second mountain,
they began to show the lameness which their master
so much feared, until it was almost impossible to
make them take any interest in the trail. The
old dog, however, seemed nothing the worse for his
work.
On reaching the first small park near
the summit of this range, the pursuers were so exhausted
that they lay down and took their first sleep, having
been over three days and a half on the trail.
The marshal himself slept several hours, but he was
the last to go to sleep and the first to awake.
Before going to sleep, and on arising, he was particular
to bathe the dogs’ feet. The nearest approach
to a liniment that he possessed was a lubricating
tube for guns, which he fortunately had with him.
This afforded relief.
It was daybreak when the pursuers
took up the trail. The plateau on the crest of
this range was in places several miles wide, having
a luxuriant growth of grass upon it. The course
of the robbers continued to the southwest. The
pursuers kept this plateau for several miles, and
before descending the western slope of the range an
abandoned camp was found, where the pursued had evidently
made their first bunks. Indications of where
horses had been picketed for hours, and where both
men and horses had slept were evident. The trail
where it left this deserted camp was in no wise encouraging
to the marshal, as it looked at least thirty-six hours
old. As the pursuers began the descent, they
could see below them where the San Juan River meanders
to the west until her waters, mingling with others,
find their outlet into the Pacific. It was a
trial of incessant toil down the mountain slope, wearisome
alike to man and beast. Near the foot-hill of
this mountain they were rewarded by finding a horse
which the robbers had abandoned on account of an accident.
He was an extremely fine horse, but so lame in the
shoulders, apparently owing to a fall, that it was
impossible to move him. The trail of the robbers
kept in the foot-hills, finally doubling back an almost
due east course. Now and then ranches were visible
out on the mesa, but in all instances they were carefully
avoided by the pursued.
Spending a night in these hills, the
posse prepared to make an early start. Here,
however, they met their first serious trouble.
Both of the younger dogs had feet so badly swollen
that it was impossible to make them take any interest
in the trail. After doing everything possible
for them, their owner sent them to a ranch which was
in sight several miles below in the valley. Several
hours were lost to the party by this incident, though
they were in no wise deterred in following the trail,
still having the veteran dog. Late that afternoon
they met a pastor who gave them a description
of the robbers.
“Yesterday morning,” said
the shepherd, in broken Spanish, “shortly after
daybreak, four men rode into my camp and asked for
breakfast. I gave them coffee, but as I had no
meat in my quarters, they tried to buy a lamb, which
I have no right to sell. After drinking the coffee
they tendered me money, which I refused. On leaving,
one of their number rode into my flock and killed
a kid. Taking it with him, he rode away with
the others.”
A good description of the robbers
was secured from this simple shepherd,—a
full description of men, horses, colors, and condition
of pack. The next day nothing of importance developed,
and the posse hugged the shelter of the hills skirting
the mountain range, crossing into New Mexico.
It was late that night when they went into camp on
the trail. They had pushed forward with every
energy, hoping to lessen the intervening distance
between them and the robbers. The following morning
on awakening, to the surprise and mortification of
everybody, the old dog was unable to stand upon his
feet. While this was felt to be a serious drawback,
it did not necessarily check the chase.
In bringing to bay over thirty criminals,
one of whom had paid the penalty of his crime on the
gallows, master and dog had heretofore been an invincible
team. Old age and physical weakness had now overtaken
the dog in an important chase, and the sympathy he
deserved was not withheld, nor was he deserted.
Tenderly as a mother would lift a sick child, Banks
gathered him in his arms and lifted him to one of
the posse on his horse. To the members of the
posse it was a touching scene: they remembered
him but a few months before pursuing a flying criminal,
when the latter—seeing that escape was impossible
and turning to draw his own weapon upon the officer,
whose six-shooter had been emptied at the fugitive,
but who with drawn knife was ready to close with him
in the death struggle—immediately threw
down his weapon and pleaded for his life.
Yet this same officer could not keep
back the tears that came into his eyes as he lifted
this dumb comrade of other victories to a horse.
With an earnest oath he brushed the incident away by
assuring his posse that unless the earth opened and
swallowed up the robbers they could not escape.
A few hours after taking up the trail, a ranch was
sighted and the dog was left, the instructions of the
Good Samaritan being repeated. At this ranch
they succeeded in buying two fresh horses, which proved
a valuable addition to their mounts.
Now it became a hunt of man by man.
To an experienced trailer like the marshal there was
little difficulty in keeping the trail. That the
robbers kept to the outlying country was an advantage.
Yet the latter traveled both night and day, while
pursuit must of necessity be by day only. With
the fresh horses secured, they covered a stretch of
country hardly credible.
During the day they found a place
where the robbers had camped for at least a full day.
A trail made by two horses had left this camp, and
returned. The marshal had followed it to a rather
pretentious Mexican rancho, where there was a small
store kept. Here a second description of the
two men was secured, though neither one was Peg-Leg.
He was so indelibly marked that he was crafty enough
to keep out of sight of so public a place as a store.
These two had tried unsuccessfully to buy horses at
this rancho.
The next morning the representative
of the express company left the posse to report progress.
He was enabled to give such an exact description of
the robbers that the company, through their detective
system, were not long in locating the leader.
The marshal and posse pushed on with the same unremitting
energy. The trail was now almost due east.
The population of the country was principally Mexican,
and even Mexicans the robbers avoided as much as possible.
They had, however, bought horses at several ranches,
and were always liberal in the use of money, but very
exacting in regard to the quality of horseflesh they
purchased; the best was none too good for them.
They passed north of old Santa Fé town, and entering
a station on the line of railway by that name late
at night, they were liberal patrons of the gaming
tables that the town tolerated. The next morning
they had disappeared.
At no time did the pursuers come within
two days of them. This was owing to the fact
that they traveled by night as well as day. At
the last-mentioned point messages were exchanged with
the express company with little loss of time.
Banks had asked that certain points on the railway
be watched in the hope of capture while crossing the
country, but the effort was barren of results.
In following the trail the marshal had recrossed the
continuation of the first range of mountains which
they had crossed to the west ten days before, or the
morning after the robbery, three hundred miles southward.
There was nothing difficult in the passage of this
range of mountains, and now before them stretched
the endless prairie to the eastward. Here Banks
seriously felt the loss of his dogs. This was
a country that they could be used in to good advantage.
It would then be a question of endurance of men and
horses. As it was, he could work only by day.
Two lines of railway were yet to be crossed if the
band held its course. The same tactics were resorted
to as formerly, yet this vigilance and precaution
availed nothing, as Peg-Leg crossed them carefully
between two of the watched places. Owing to his
occupation, he knew the country better by night than
day.
Banks was met by the officials of
the express company on one of these lines of railroad.
The exhaustive amount of information that they had
been able to collect regarding this interesting man
with the wooden leg was astonishing. From out
of the abundance of the data there were a few items
that were of interest to the officer. Several
of Eldridge’s haunts when not actively engaged
in his profession were located. In one of these
haunts was a woman, and toward this one he was heading,
though it was many a weary mile distant.
At the marshal’s request the
express people had brought bloodhounds with them.
The dogs proved worthless, and the second day were
abandoned. When the trail crossed the Gulf Railway
the robbers were three days ahead. The posse
had now been fourteen days on the trail. Banks
followed them one day farther, himself alone, leaving
his tired companions at a station near the line of
the Panhandle of Texas. This extra day’s
ride was to satisfy himself that the robbers were making
for one of their haunts. They kept, as he expected,
down between the two Canadians.
After following the trail until he
was thoroughly satisfied of their destination, the
marshal retraced his steps and rejoined his posse.
The first train carried him and the posse back to the
headquarters of the express company.
Two weeks later, at a country store
in the Chickasaw Nation, there was a horse race of
considerable importance. The country side were
gathered to witness it. The owners of the horses
had made large wagers on the race. Outsiders
wagered money and livestock to a large amount.
There were a number of strangers present, which was
nothing unusual. As the race was being run and
every eye was centred on the outcome, a stranger present
put a six-shooter to a very interested spectator’s
ear, and informed him that he was a prisoner.
Another stranger did the same thing to another spectator.
They also snapped handcuffs on both of them.
One of these spectators had a peg-leg. They were
escorted to a waiting rig, and when they alighted
from it were on the line of a railroad forty miles
distant. One of these strangers was a United
States marshal, who for the past month had been very
anxious to meet these same gentlemen.
Once safe from the rescue of friends
of these robbers, the marshal regaled his guest with
the story of the chase, which had now terminated.
He was even able to give Eldridge a good part of his
history. But when he attempted to draw him out
as to the whereabouts of the other two, Peg was sullenly
ignorant of anything. They were never captured,
having separated before reaching the haunt of Mr.
Eldridge. Eldridge was tried in a Federal court
in Colorado and convicted of train robbery. He
went over the road for a term of years far beyond
the lease of his natural life. He, with the companion
captured at the same time, was taken by an officer
of the court to Detroit for confinement. When
within an hour’s ride of the prison—his
living grave—he raised his ironed hands,
and twisting from a blue flannel shirt which he wore
a large pearl button, said to the officer in charge:—
“Will you please take this button
back and give it, with my compliments, to that human
bloodhound, and say to him that I’m sorry that
I didn’t anticipate meeting him? If I had,
it would have saved you this trip with me. He
might have got me, but I wouldn’t have needed
a trial when he did.”