some time before this (when i was still working for the globe-democrat), there had occurred on the missouri pacific, about one hundred and fifty miles west of st. louis a hold-up, the story of which interested me, although i had nothing to do with it. according to the reports, seven lusty and daring bandits, all heavily armed and desperate, had held up an eight-car pullman and baggage express train between one and two of the morning at a lonely spot, and after overawing the passengers, had compelled the engineer and fireman to dismount, uncouple the engine and run it a hundred paces ahead, then return and help break open the door of the express car. this they did, using a stick of dynamite or giant powder handed them by one of the bandits. and then both were made to enter the express car, where, under the eye of one of the bandits and despite the presence of the express messenger, who was armed yet overawed, they were compelled to blow open the safe and carry forth between twenty and thirty thousand dollars in bills and coin, which they deposited on the ground in sacks and packages for the bandits. then, if you please, they were compelled to re-enter their engine, back it up and couple it to the train and proceed upon their journey, leaving the bandits to gather up their booty and depart.

naturally such a story was of great interest to st. louis, as well as to all the other cities near at hand. it smacked of the lawlessness of the ’forties. all banks, express companies, railroads and financial institutions generally were intensely interested. the whole front page was given to this deed, and it was worth it, although during my short career in journalism in this region no less than a dozen amazing train robberies took place in as many months in the region bounded by the mississippi and the rockies, the canadian line and the gulf. four or five of them occurred within a hundred miles of st. louis.

the truth about this particular robbery was that there had not been seven bandits but just one, an ex-railroad hand, turned robber for this occasion only, and armed, as subsequent developments proved, with but a brace of revolvers, each containing six shots, and a few sticks of fuse-prepared giant powder! despite the glowing newspaper account which made of this a most desperate and murderous affair, there had been no prowling up and down the aisles of the cars by bandits armed to the teeth, as a number of passengers insisted (among whom was the governor of the state, his lieutenant-governor, several officers of his staff, all returning from a military banquet or feast somewhere). nor was there any shooting at passengers who ventured to peer out into the darkness. just this one lone bandit, who was very busy up in the front attending to the robbing. what made this story all the more ridiculous in the light of later developments was that at the time the train stopped in the darkness and the imaginary bandits began to shout and fire shots, and even to rob the passengers of their watches, pins, purses, these worthies of the state, or so it was claimed in guffawing newspaper circles afterward, crawled under their seats or into their berths and did not emerge until the train was well on its way once more. long before the true story of the lone bandit came out, the presence of the governor and his staff was well known and had lent luster to the deed and strengthened the interest which later attached to the story of the real bandit.

the st. louis newspaper files for 1893 will show whether or not i am correct. this lone bandit, as it was later indisputably proved, was nothing more than an ex-farm hand turned railroad hand and then “baggage-smasher” at a small station. owing to love and poverty he had plotted this astounding coup, which, once all its details were revealed, fascinated the american public from coast to coast. that a lone individual should undertake such an astounding task was uppermost in everybody’s mind, including that of our city editors, and to the task of unraveling it they now bent their every effort.

when the robbery occurred i was working for the globe-democrat; later, when it was discovered by detectives working for the railroad and the express company who the star robber was, i was connected with the republic. early one afternoon i was shown a telegram from some backwoods town in missouri—let us say bald knob, just for a name’s sake—that lem rollins (that name will do as well as any other), an ex-employee of the missouri pacific, had been arrested by detectives for the road and express company for the crime, and that upon searching his room they had found most of the stolen money. also, because of other facts with which he had been confronted he had confessed that he and he alone had been guilty of the express robbery. the dispatch added that he had shown the detectives where the remainder of the money lay hidden, and that this very afternoon he would be en route to st. louis, scheduled to arrive over the st. louis & san francisco, and that he would be confined in the county jail here. imagine the excitement. the burglar had not told how he had accomplished this great feat, and here he was now en route to st. louis, and might be met and interviewed on the train. from a news point of view the story was immense.

when i came in wandell exclaimed: “i’ll tell you what you do, dreiser—lord! i thought you wouldn’t come back in time! here’s a st. louis & san francisco time-table; according to it you can take a local that leaves here at two-fifteen and get as far as this place, pacific, where the incoming express stops. it’s just possible that the globe and the other papers haven’t got hold of this yet—maybe they have, but whatever happens, we won’t get licked, and that’s the main thing.”

i hurried down to the union station, but when i asked for a ticket to pacific, the ticket agent asked “which road?”

“are there two?”

“sure, missouri pacific, and st. louis & san francisco.”

“they both go to the same place, do they?”

“yes; they meet there.”

“which train leaves first?”

“st. louis & san francisco. it’s waiting now.”

i hurried to it, but the thought of this other road in from pacific troubled me. suppose the bandit should be on the other train instead of on this! i consulted with the conductor when he came for my ticket and was told that pacific was the only place at which these two roads met, one going west and the other southwest from there. “good,” i thought. “then he is certain to be on this line.”

but now another thought came to me: supposing reporters from other papers were aboard, especially the globe-democrat! i rose and walked forward to the smoker, and there, to my great disgust and nervous dissatisfaction, was galvin, red-headed, serene, a cigar between his teeth, slumped low in his seat smoking and reading a paper as calmly as though he were bent upon the most unimportant task in the world.

“how now?” i asked myself. “the globe has sent that swine! here he is, and these country detectives and railroad men will be sure, on the instant, to make friends with him and do their best to serve him. they like that sort of man. they may even give him details which they will refuse to give me. i shall have to interview my man in front of him, and he will get the benefit of all my questions! at his request they may even refuse to let me interview him!”

i returned to my seat nervous and much troubled, all the more so because i now recalled galvin’s threat. but i was determined to give him the tussle of his life. now we would see whether he could beat me or not—not, if fair play were exercised; of that i felt confident. why, he could not even write a decent line! why should i be afraid of him?... but i was, just the same.

as the dreary local drew near pacific i became more and more nervous. when we drew up at the platform i jumped down, all alive with the determination not to be outdone. i saw galvin leap out, and on the instant he spied me. i never saw a face change more quickly from an expression of ease and assurance to one of bristling opposition and distrust. how he hated me. he looked about to see who else might dismount, then, seeing no one, he bustled up to the station agent to see when the train from the west was due. i decided not to trail, and sought information from the conductor, who assured me that the eastbound express would probably be on time, five minutes later.

“it always stops here, does it?” i inquired anxiously.

“it always stops.”

as we talked galvin came back to the platform and stood looking up the track. our train now pulled out, and a few minutes later the whistle of the express was heard. now for a real contest, i thought. somewhere in one of those cars would be the bandit surrounded by detectives, and my duty was to get to him first, to explain who i was and begin my questioning, overawing galvin perhaps with the ease with which i should take charge. maybe the bandit would not want to talk; if so i must make him, cajole him or his captors, or both. no doubt, since i was the better interviewer, or so i thought, i should have to do all the talking, and this wretch would make notes or make a deal with the detectives while i was talking. in a few moments the train was rolling into the station, and then i saw my friend galvin leap aboard and with that iron effrontery and savageness which i always hated in him, begin to race through the cars. i was about to follow him when i saw the conductor stepping down beside me.

“is that train robber they are bringing in from bald knob on here? i’m from the republic, and i’ve been sent out here to interview him.”

“you’re on the wrong road, brother,” he smiled. “he’s not on here. they’re bringing him in over the missouri pacific. they took him across from bald knob to denton and caught the train there—but i’ll tell you,” and he consulted his watch, “you might be able to catch that yet if you run for it. it’s only across the field here. you see that little yellow station over there? well, that’s the missouri pacific depot. i don’t know whether it stops here or not, but it may. it’s due now, but sometimes it’s a little late. you’ll have to run for it though; you haven’t a minute to spare.”

“you wouldn’t fool me about a thing like this, would you?” i pleaded.

“not for anything. i know how you feel. if you can get on that train you’ll find him, unless they’ve taken him off somewhere else.”

i don’t remember if i even stopped to thank him. instead of following galvin into the cars i now leaped to the little path which cut diagonally across this long field, evidently well worn by human feet. as i ran i looked back once or twice to see if my enemy was following me, but apparently he had not seen me. i now looked forward eagerly toward this other station, but, as i ran, i saw the semaphore arm, which stood at right angles opposite the station, lower for a clear track for some train. at the same time i spied a mail-bag hanging out on an express arm, indicating that whatever this train was it was not going to stop here. i turned, still uncertain as to whether i had made a mistake in not searching the other train after all. supposing the conductor had fooled me.... supposing the burglar were on there, and galvin was already beginning to question him! oh, lord, what a beat! and what would happen to me then? was it another case of three shows and no critic? i slowed up in my running, chill beads of sweat bursting through my pores, but as i did so i saw the st. louis & san francisco train begin to move and from it, as if shot out of it, leaped galvin.

“ha!” i thought. “then the robber is not on there! galvin has just discovered it! he knows now that he is coming in on this line”——for i could see him running along the path. “oh, kind heaven, if i can beat him to it! if i can only get on and leave him behind! he has all of a thousand feet still to run, and i am here!”

desperately i ran into the station, thrust my head in at the open office window and called:

“when is this st. louis express due here?”

“now,” he replied surlily.

“does it stop?”

“no, it don’t stop.”

“can it be stopped?”

“it can not!”

“you mean that you have no right to stop it?”

“i mean i won’t stop it!”

even as he said this there came the shriek of a whistle in the distance.

“oh, lord,” i thought. “here it comes, and he won’t let me on, and galvin will be here any minute!” for the moment i was even willing that galvin should catch it too, if only i could get on. think of what wandell would think if i missed it!

“will five dollars stop it?” i asked desperately, diving into my pocket.

“no.”

“will ten?”

“it might,” he replied crustily.

“stop it,” i urged and handed over the bill.

the agent took it, grabbed a tablet of yellow order blanks which lay before him, scribbled something on the face of one and ran out to the track. at the same time he called to me:

“run on down the track. run after it. she won’t stop here. she can’t. run on. she’ll go a thousand feet before she can slow up.”

i ran, while he stood there holding up this thin sheet of yellow paper. as i ran i heard the express rushing up behind me. on the instant it was alongside and past, its wheels grinding and emitting sparks. it was stopping! i should get on, and oh, glory be! galvin would not! fine! i could hear the gritty screech of the wheels against the brakes as the train came to a full stop. now i would make it, and what a victory! i came up to it and climbed aboard, but, looking back, i saw to my horror that my rival had almost caught up and was now close at hand, not a hundred feet behind. he had seen the signal, had seen me running, and instead of running to the station had taken a diagonal tack and followed me. i saw that he would make the train. i tried to signal the agent behind to let the train go, but he had already done so. the conductor came out on the rear platform and i appealed to him.

“let her go!” i pleaded. “let her go! it’s all right! go on!”

“don’t that other fellow want to get on too?” he asked curiously.

“no, no, no! don’t let him on!” i pleaded. “i arranged to stop this train! i’m from the republic! he’s nobody! he’s no right on here!” but even as i spoke up came galvin, breathless and perspiring, and crawled eagerly on, a leer of mingled triumph and joy at my discomfiture written all over his face. if i had had more courage i would have beaten him off. as it was, i merely groaned. to think that i should have done all this for him!

“is that so?” he sneered. “you think you’ll leave me behind, do you? well, i fooled you this trip, didn’t i?” and his lip curled.

i was beaten. it was an immensely painful moment for me, to lose when i had everything in my own hands. my spirits fell so for the moment that i did not even trouble to inquire whether the robber was on the train. i ambled in after my rival, who had proceeded on his eager way, satisfied that i should have to beat him in the quality of the interview.