Chapter 3

Some time before this the man who had ridden on the free pass, and
given the detectives so much trouble, had been accidentally found by
Jack Mullins, a brakeman on conductor Danforth's train. He proved to
be an advertising solicitor, employed by no other than Mr. Melville
E. Stone, who would have given a thousand dollars to know what his
agent knew; for the advertising man had seen the conductor bring out
the valise containing the all-important fragment of the draft. But he
had not realized the value of the news in his possession, and Mr.
Pinkerton took good care to keep him from that knowledge. One hint of
the truth to the "Daily News" people, and the whole story would have
been blazoned forth in its columns, and the murderer would have taken
warning. Not until he had seen the man safely on a train out from
Chicago did Mr. Pinkerton breathe easily; and it was not until months
later that Mr. Stone learned how near he came to getting a splendid
"scoop" on the whole city and country.

The identification of the pass-holder removed the last possibility
that the valise had been taken into the train by any of conductor
Danforth's passengers. And yet the valise was there! How came it
there? In the course of their examination two of the passengers had
testified to having seen Schwartz enter the toilet-room during the
run. Brakeman Jack Mullins stated that he had been in the same room
twice that night, that the second time he had noticed the valise, but
that it was not there when he went in first. Other witnesses in the
car were positive that the person who entered the room last before the
time when Mullins saw the valise was Schwartz. Thus the chain of proof
was tightening, and Mr. Pinkerton sent for Schwartz.

After talking with the brakeman in a semi-confidential way for some
time, the detective began to question him about Watt, his
fellow-trainman. Schwartz said he was a good fellow, and, in general,
spoke highly of him. Mr. Pinkerton seemed to hesitate a little, and
then said:

"Can I trust you, Schwartz?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, the fact is, I am a little suspicious of Watt. You see, his
story about that hand overhead does not exactly hang together. I don't
want to do him any wrong, but he must be looked after. Now, my idea is
to have you go about with him as much as you can, see if he meets any
strangers or spends much money, and let me know whatever happens. Will
you do it?"

Schwartz readily consented, on the assurance that the railroad people
would give him leave of absence. The next day he reported that Watt
had met a man who wore a slouch-hat, had unkempt red hair, and in
general looked like a border ruffian. He had overheard the two talking
together in a saloon on Cottage Grove Avenue, where the stranger had
discussed the murder of Nichols in great detail, showing a remarkable
familiarity with the whole affair. Schwartz had a sort of Jesse James
theory (which he seemed anxious to have accepted) that the crime had
been committed by a gang of Western desperados and that this fellow
was connected with them.

Mr. Pinkerton listened with interest to all this, but was less edified
than Schwartz imagined, since two of his most trusted "shadows," who
had been following Schwartz, had given him reports of the latter's
movements, making it plain that the red-haired desperado was a myth,
and that no such meeting as Schwartz described had taken place.
Nevertheless, professing to be well pleased with Schwartz's efforts,
Mr. Pinkerton sent him out to track the fabulous desperado. Schwartz
continued to render false reports. Finally, without a word to arouse
his suspicion, he was allowed to resume his work on the railroad.

The "shadows" put upon Schwartz after this reported a suspicious
intimacy between him and Watt, and a detective of great tact, Frank
Jones, was detailed to get into their confidence, if possible. He was
given a "run" as brakeman between Des Moines and Davenport, and it was
arranged that he should come in from the west and lay over at
Davenport on the same days when Schwartz and Watt laid over there,
coming in from the east. Jones played his part cleverly, and was soon
on intimate terms with Schwartz and Watt, taking his meals at their
boarding-house and sleeping in a room adjoining theirs. They finally
came to like him so well that they suggested his trying to get a
transfer to their "run," between Davenport and Chicago. This was
successfully arranged, and then the three men were together
constantly, Jones even going to board at Schwartz's house in Chicago.
About this time Schwartz began to talk of giving up railroad work and
going to live in Kansas or the far West. It was arranged that Jones
should join him and Mrs. Schwartz on a Western trip. Meantime
Schwartz applied to the company for leave of absence, on the plea that
he wished to arrange some family matters in Philadelphia.

Mr. Pinkerton, being informed by Jones of Schwartz's application, used
his influence to have it granted. When the young man started East he
did not travel alone. His every movement was watched and reported, nor
was he left unguarded for a moment, day or night, during an absence of
several weeks, in New York, Philadelphia, and other Eastern cities.

To one unfamiliar with the resources and organization of a great
detective system it is incomprehensible how continuous "shadowing" day
after day and week after week, through thousands of miles of
journeying, can be accomplished. The matter is made none the simpler
when you know that there must be a change of "shadows" every day.
However adroit the detective, his continued presence in a locality
would soon arouse suspicion. The daily change of "shadows" is easy
when the man under watch remains in one place; for then it is only
necessary to send a new "shadow" from the central office early each
morning to replace the one who "put the man to bed" the night before.
But it is very different when the subject is constantly traveling
about on boats or railways, and perhaps sleeping in a different town
each night. Without the network of agencies, including large and small
bureaus, that the Pinkertons have gradually established all over the
United States, the "shadowing" of a man in rapid flight would be
impossible. As it is, nothing is easier. Schwartz, for instance, spent
several days in Buffalo, where his actions were reported hour by hour
until he bought his ticket for Philadelphia. As he took the train a
fresh "shadow" took it too, securing a section in the same
sleeping-car with him, and taking his meals at the same time Schwartz
took his, either in the dining-car or at stations. No sooner had the
train left the station than the Pinkerton representative in Buffalo
reported by cipher-despatch to the bureau in Philadelphia, whither
Schwartz was going. The exact form of the despatch, which well
illustrates a system in constant use in the Pinkerton bureaus, was as
follows:

"R. J. LINDEN,

"441 CHESTNUT STREET,

"PHILADELPHIA, PA.

"Anxious shoes sucker Brown marbles man other dropping eight
arrives put grand fifty marbles articles along or derby coat
ship very tan seer wearing these have and is ribbon ink dust
central Tuesday for dust to rice hat and paper vest
yellow ink get must jewelry morning depot on.

"D. ROBERTSON."

In despatches of this sort important information regarding criminals
is constantly flashing over the wires, with no danger of any "leak."

Thus, from one city to another, and through every part of the country,
any criminal may be "shadowed" to-day as Schwartz was "shadowed," one
set of detectives relieving another every twenty-four hours, and the
man's every word and action be carefully noted down and reported,
without his having the faintest suspicion that he is under
observation. The task of "shadowing" a person who is traversing city
streets is intrusted to men especially skilled in the art (for art it
is) of seeing without being seen. This is, indeed, one of the most
difficult tasks a detective is called upon to perform, and the few who
excel in it are given little else to do. Where a criminal like
Schwartz, upon whose final capture much depends, is being followed,
two, three, or even four "shadows" are employed simultaneously, one
keeping in advance, one in the rear, and two on either side. The
advantage of this is that one relieves the other by change of
position, thus lessening the chance of discovery, while, of course, it
is scarcely possible for several "shadows" to be thrown off the trail
at once. An adroit criminal might outwit one "shadow," but he could
scarcely outwit four. A "shadow," on coming into a new town with a
subject, reveals himself to the "shadow" who is to relieve him by some
prearranged signal, like a handkerchief held in the left hand.

The result of the "shadowing" in Schwartz's case was conclusive. No
sooner was the brakeman out of Chicago than he began spending money
far in excess of his income. He bought fine furniture, expensive
clothing, articles of jewelry, presents for his wife, and laid in an
elaborate supply of rifles, shot-guns, revolvers, and all sorts of
ammunition, including a quantity of cartridges. The "shadows" found
that in almost every case he paid for his purchases with fifty-or
one-hundred-dollar bills. As far as possible these bills were secured
by the detectives from the persons to whom they had been paid,
immediately after Schwartz's departure. It will be remembered that the
money taken in the robbery consisted of fifty-and one-hundred-dollar
bills.