Print Archive: The Standard 04.17.1912

A short time ago there was published in these columns an article concerning the gang of outlawed desperadoes who having found their native health too sultry for them on account of the hue and cry raised by their misdeeds, came to this country for pastures new. The following story of one of their raids was told by one of the bunch to a gentleman at present residing here who has written it out for publication. The Winnemocca Bank Hold Up, as told by one of the Wild Bunch. When the sheriffs of fourteen western states and Pinkerton Detectives read this title, they will put their ears to the ground and go off on a hot trail after yours truly.

So perhaps I had better get on the move, for I know those fellows and know they have a way of sticking to a trail once they have found it that makes a hunted man wish he hadn't done the act. The Wild Bunch had dwindled to a handful, in fact you could count them all on one hand, out of a bunch of twenty hard hitting, straight shooting huskey cyclones that were in business only a few years ago, all were gone except a few of us; most of them went with their boots on; only one of the boys has an address that expires with himself. My funds were getting low, so I drifted over to Powder Springs, Nevada; one of our numerous rendezvouses; where I hoped to find some of the bunch.

You bet I was glad to find two of the boys there on the same errand as myself.

After talking the matter over, we concluded to wait for our leader. Our Napoleon, the brainiest member of the bunch.

Days and dates cut no figure with us, summer and winter are the only periods of time that we take notice of.

So one bright sunny day in 1902 after loafing at the Springs for a month waiting for Harry Logan (Kid Curry), we started out to take in the Winnie Bank. The bunch consisted of Butch Cassidy, Geo Carver, and myself (Harry Lonbaugh). Carver was known to the man hunters as "Flat Nose George". We called him the Colonel, because he was such a large well proportioned man, with a military appearance, straight as an arrow and strong as a horse.

The boys sent me over to Winnemocca to size up the situation and pick out a trail for the get-away, while they went around to Twin Falls Idaho and bought horses. I went down to Ogden where I caught a freight train one night and rode out on the bummers like a hobo and say;- there was a Brakie on that train who used such vile and unsanitary language that it almost set my clothes afire, he finally made me jump off while the train was going twenty miles an hour, it would have been bad medicine for that brakie if I'd met him after the hold up.

One dark rainy night I arrived in Winnemocca, there were but few people on the streets, so without attracting much attention I made my way to a livery barn where I got permission to sleep on the hay pile, the next morning I got a job on the street, the shovel blistered my hands but I stuck to the job three days then quit, took my check for $7.50 to the bank to get it cashed and also to size up the interior decorations. Gee, but that sight was certainly good for sore eyes, it was the biggest little bank I had ever seen, the big stacks of yellow twenties looked so good and easy, that had I only had a horse hitched out in front the bank could have begun to lose out then and there.

While waiting for my turn at the window, I noticed a door in the back of the room. After getting my pay I went in again (he used a key. About half) to see if the door was used often, or if it was kept locked during office hours, I had only a couple of hours to wait when I saw a man come out, when we went in again he used a key. About half a block down the alley west from the bank there was a vacant lot with a high board fence around it, just the place to leave our horses while collecting the legal tender. There was also a high wall around the back of the bank. I had been in town three days, had the lay of the land down pat, the pay roll was certainly worth going after. My work was finished and I was ready to go around to Twinn Falls and join the boys.

While on my way to the depot a man passed me and in the glance that he gave me I read recognition. No train for me after that look, it was cayuse or break into jail; so back to the barn I went, there I bought a pinto and saddle, I took the outfit to a pasture outside of town and paid for three days feed for the pony, then I went back to the hay loft and waited for darkness. I wrote a letter to the boys telling them to wait.

After mailing the note I went back to the hay loft and jumped out the back door onto a manure pile., then I went to the pasture and stole my horse. It was about three hundred miles to Twin Falls, but I made it in six days. The cayuse was for sale when I arrived, but no one would have him as a gift. We went to Three Creek Post Office without incident, it was necessary to have grub cached at several different places along the trail for use on the way back from Winnemocca.

Having bought a lot of horses we were broke; we never stole a horse with which to make a raid, though on a get-away we took any kind that had good eyes. Not having the cash to buy grub we had to hold up the store at Three Creek, the place was run by an old man and his wife. We called on them after they had gone to bed, the old man said he wouldn't trust us for a bill of goods, so we showed him our guns, after looking at the forty fives a half minute he said "Yes, I'll fill your order". We loaded two pack horses with grub and were about to leave when the old man said "Boys, I've got some good hats on the top shelf, perhaps you would like one apiece". Sure, we would. Butch and I got one each, but there was none large enough for the Colonel.

We rode into Winnemocca one morning before day-light and put our horses on the vacant lot. After eating breakfast that morning Butch and Colonel strolled about town. I kept out of sight for fear that some one would recognise me and give the alarm. About 9.30 Butch gave me the hurry up signal. when I crossed the street and met him he said, the sheriff is organising a posse at the livery barn, so its a chase for us now whether we take in the bank or not. The Colonel came up while we talking, he said it was suicide to attempt the hold up at that time, and advised postponing it for a month or so. Butch said No; he said no futures for him, it was a case of run any way and he was going to do something to run for. Alright said the Colonel, but here is where we get a permanent address. We then went into the bank, Colonel had a rifle under his long coat he acted as door-keeper. Butch carried the wad-bag to put the money in, my part was to do the scare act. I went to a window that had a sign over the top that read "Paying Teller". A nice pale looking man with his hair parted in the middle, asked "What can I do for you Sir ", "Hand over the money I answered", at the same time pulling a pair of Forty Five Colts on him, "Up with your hands" I said " stick 'em up everybody" There was a tall slim sallow faced kid working at a typewriter over in the corner. He didn't hear me at first, then I yelled at him "stick 'em up slim or I'll make you look like a naval target."

When the poor fellow turned and saw what was going on he collapsed, he put his hands up but couldn't keep them there. Anybody that wished to come into the bank, Colonel made them join the row of high reachers that stood against the wall. Butch went down the corridor and through a gate in the wire fence. He had just got inside the corral, when a man came out of the back room; Butch greeted him with a smile and said "Friend my associates would like to speak to you at the teller's window."

When he had gotten into line of my forty five he said "What is going on here? what does this mean ?" "It grieves me to inform you that be bank is losing out" replied Butch who was then transferring the pay streak to the wad bag. "Say friend" I said to the late arrival "Just how feel how soft and fine the atmosphere is above your head, feel it with both hands at once". They were all up, and nobody made a move while Butch went into the vault and filled the wadbag with gold coin. The job was done and we were starting away when the paying teller said "Boys you have a nice little stake there, but I don't think you will be able to hold onto it". "Think again" replied Colonel as we went out the door and fastened it behind us.

We went out the door and fastened it behind us.

We went out the back way and when I got to the top of the wall I saw the posse lining up in front of the bank. Butch passed the wadbag to me and just as I was about to drop it to the ground a man with a gun came to the mouth of the alley, he was about as mean a looking specimen as I have ever seen, he looked like some pictures I've seen of the Western Bad man, he had a long black mustache, and eyebrows almost as long as the mustache. "There's a gun fighter" I called to Butch "get him quick". Colonel jumped on to the wall and fired, tearing up the dirt in front of the bad man who threw down his gun and ran away. We ran to the horses. Butch had a fine bay mare and as he was the lightest man I handed him the sack.

We had to go out on the main street in order to hit the trail towards the east. Away we went, Colonel in the lead and I bringing up the rear. The posse evidently intended to hold an informal reception in front of the bank with the wild bunch as entertainers.

They were lined up in a brave array behind boxes, barrels and brick piles that stood along the main street. So when we went out onto the street two blocks east, their breast works were of no use, we had an open trail ahead and only a few more blocks to go, then we would be out in open country, with nobody in front to stop us, when "great balls of cod fish hooks "¬ Butch dropped the wadbag, which bursted when it dropped to the ground. The bay mare seemed to go straight up when she lost the weight. Colonel was two hundred yards away before he knew that something was wrong, then he wheeled round and came back. While Butch and I was scraping up the yellow boys and putting them in a new sack, Colonel smoked the posse out of sight with a 30 U.S. After making the bag fast to the saddle we hit the sand again, leaving five or six thousand dollars in the street As we raced along, faces were peeping from windows like owls from hedge rows. The trail ran along side of the railroad a mile and a half to a place where we had fresh horses and more guns cached. We hadn't gone far before we saw we were up against something we hadn't counted on. Chased by a locomotive - who'd thought of that.

On it came, the engineer had it wide open and the fireman was doing his damnedest; i could tell that by the roll of smoke that was belching from the stack.

We were about half way to our fresh horses when the engine got in range.

At the first volley my old roan was shot in the belly. I was about fifty yards behind Butch, who kept banging away with his forty-five. My horse began to lose ground. I emptied my gun once and had put in a fresh round. The engine was within twenty yards of me; the bullets were flying thick, the air seemed to be sizzling with the hot lead when the Colonel got into the game, he was a good shot and that crew soon found it out. He began pumping lead straight at the cab. I could see the splinters fly with every shot; finally one of his shots broke a steam pipe somewhere, then nothing could be seen of the engine but a black front, the cab was a fog bank. The moving fort was put out of commission or they would have gotten me, for I had to walk the last hundred yards and carry my saddle.

We had eight horses at the cache, two of them were pack horses, so we tied the wadbag onto a pack saddle and started for the hole in the wall. We had some good horses and rode them to their limit of speed until daylight next morning, when we came to a ranch where we had left five of the best horses that we could find in Idaho, but say - if you want to get good longwinded race horse go to Winnemocca, they've got them there, or at least they had some once upon a time.

That posse was on to us before we had time to change mounts; they didn't give us time to eat, we had to smoke them back while we finished changing our outfit.

I am sure we had ten miles start of the bunch when they left Winnemuocca and we had changed mounts several times during the night. How did the posse keep on our trail?

There they were anyway, but with tired horses. They chased us across the pasture, we cut the wire fence and went out into the open about three hundred yards ahead of them.

We rode like blazes until noon then stopped for lunch. Butch had just built a fire and put on the coffee pot while had open a couple of cans of Three Creek meat when Colonel, who was on guard, shouted "Here they come again and they're coming some too."

One look at the posse was enough to make us bust a hole in the atmosphere again, for them fellows back there was sure burning the breeze. Away we went, not in a canter, but as hard as we could ride. The posse gained on us steadily. We were nearing the southern foothills of Bruneau Mountain; if we could only make timber line we were safe. All afternoon we rode, with the posse sometimes within a quarter of a mile of us. About 5 p.m. we saw a small grove ahead. There we was going to make a stand, but as we neared the timber we saw the posse spreading out and knew that to stop meant surrounded, so we just trotted through the grove and down into a gulch, which we followed for a mile before the posse discovered that they had only surrounded our tracks. We were now in rough country, a tired horse is no good at hill climbing, so we got off and walked, driving the horses ahead. We kept out of range of the posse till dark, then we were safe from pursuit, for the hills were rocky and it would be a hard matter to track us in daylight and in the dark impossible.

Since striking the hills, we had been going due north towards a pass at the head of Jaybridge canyon. When we were sure that we had shaken the posse, we turned east and travelled east as fast as the tired horses could go for three hours then we camped - "Hungry, tired" well, I should say we were all about dead.

Thirty-six hours in the saddle, riding as only a hunted man can ride, and all the while nothing to eat, and to add to our misery it began to rain. It is always cold up in that mountain at night. I would have given a hat full of that coin for a cup of hot coffee, but we dared not make a fire. We ate a lot of the old man's canned stuff, then we took two hours turn on guard. Colonel went on first and when he came off and tried to wake Butch he made so much noise that I woke up and went on guard. It was a long two hours; once I went to sleep standing up. I fell down and skinned my face, that kept me awake for the balance of my watch. I went and tried to wake Butch. I kicked him in the ribs, I pulled his hair, not a move out of him; then I whispered in his ear "They're coming". It was like magic, Butch was on his feet in a flash and I heard the forty five click as he came up. "Where at" he asked. "About fifteen miles west", I replied. "And you stand over there under that tree a couple of hours and call us when they closer".

I then turned in for four hours sleep with the cold drizzle still falling. How was the posse faring? Much better, for they could make a fire and make a lot of noise cutting branches for a shelter. Their number was being constantly recruited with fresh men and horses, while we would still have forty miles to go before we could get fresh mounts. We travelled all day, up the gulch we had camped on the night before. It lead to the pass we were trying to make. We were within two miles of the pass when Colonel, who had went ahead to look for signs, gave us the stop signal. We went up and peeped over the ridge; we saw twenty-five men riding slowly towards the pass. We doubled back to our last camp and made a fire, cooked some grub, boiled coffee and had a feast.

We went around the mountain and into Idaho by an east side pass, coming out at the head of Three Creek. Down a little gulch where there was horse feed we divided the cleanup and as the pack horses were played out and we get to the cache in Jabridge, we concluded to bury the money there, each man to plant his own separate and not let the others where he put it. Colonel put six thousand five hundred dollars in an empty lard pail and went down the gulch. I put my share in the wadbag and went up stream, leaving Butch in camp. As I was returning after hiding the coin I saw Colonel on top of a hill above the trail. When he joined us again he seemed to have gotten a hunch for he started to tell where he had hidden his pile. "Shut up" I said, "We don't want to know where it is. Some one may lift it then you could blame us."

We sat down and figured up the old man's grocery bill for groceries and hats, then doubled the amount and put it in a sack, which we left at the store as we passed that night.

We had three days' peace and rode slowly to Snake River. There the chase took on so much new life that it made the first edition look lie a cake walk.

Once we were fifty-two hours in the saddle; up through Idaho and on into Wyoming we went, with a posse in sight every day. We were making for a small lake in hole in the wall. Colonel knew the place, Butch and I didn't.

We were trying to get grub enough to last three months, as we intended to keep under cover that long. Colonel had gone to a camp wagon by himself while Butch and I tackled another. We had gotten all the grub that our horses could carry and was riding away with it when we saw a horseman riding along the opposite ridge; he was riding for first money; he sure was getting some speed out of that big bay horse. That was the last we ever saw of Colonel. It was him - he had sighted the posse. Butch and I cut the grub adrift and hit a course to the east. The man hunters never let up. They drove us across the red desert and into Utah, into Nevada and back into Idaho, then we shook them and went over to Powder Springs to wait for Colonel, as he knew that we could not make our way to the lake.

We remained at the springs three weeks and were making preparations to leave one evening, when a posse came onto us unexpectedly, both sides were taken by surprise. There was a savage gun fight that lasted about five minutes. We made a get away without horses and went back and dug up the money, still not knowing that jolly, big hearted kind old Colonel had cashed in. The posse got him. The law had chased us two thousand miles on horse back and during the trip we used up one hundred and twenty two horses, we suffered hardships to the limit of endurance. We had lost a comrade that we loved like a brother. Now if you ask "Is the pay worth the work ?" I would say "No" but it is a game that once you button into, the law won't let you break away from, unless you go to jail. One day Colonel told Butch where he had buried his money. It is there yet. on top of a hill about four miles from Three Creek, Idaho. I wouldn't go back after it if it was multiplied by ten thousand.

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