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I am permitted, however, to state, that the personal, interview which I had with the two men took place at a point north of King's river and in the neighborhood of the town of Centerville, and that it was dictated to me in substance at different times during the stay I made them there at one of their several camps.
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The rendezvous had been designated as a small house standing in a tiny gulch that over looks the great Fresno plain, and I reach it after a descent which lasted from the morning dawn till noon. It had been stipulated in the agreement that I should carry no weapon save a pencil, and that no one should accompany me. Let it be explained just here that the answer to the request which I made to them for an interview was ten days in reaching me.
Finding the house with some difficulty, I looked at the narrow white door. It was open by an elderly man, tall, gaunt and grizzly.
At hearing my name repeated twice he admitted me cautiously, at the same time scanning the plain anxiously. His house consisted of five rooms, including the kitchen, and to the right was a door at which he knocked lightly. A key was turned on the other side, and after a moment or two he threw open the door. I entered alone, and before me, seated on a square double bed, were two men.
The man to the left had a pointed red beard, with a long soft mustache of the same color. His face was bronzed with exposure; the eyes, which I caught first, were Irish -- that is, the strange half gray and half Spanish tinge which you find so often in the County Kerry, with pupils large and honest; his hair thick, soft and of a light brown color.
The man to the right had long, thick black locks, soft because they had been uncut for weeks; black human eyes, veiled in long dark lashes; a tight, curly beard, with curling mustache. The proclamation for John Sontag's arrest states that his is "rather good-looking." It is not enough; he is very good-looking.
"So you came after all," said Evans, taking my hand.
"And why not?" I replied, greeting Sontag at the same time.
"Oh, we thought you'd back out."
"I assure you. Mr. Evans, that I feel safer in your company than in that of any man I know."
At which we all three laughed, and they let me sit on the edge of the bed between them, and first of all they asked for the news. Indeed, they were hungry for it and for the companionship of man, too. In telling them the events of a fortnight I had time to observe our surroundings.
Against the wall on the right leaned a Winchester rifle and a shotgun; opposite and next to Sontag was another Winchester of newer make than its fellow. Both men were well dressed, and their shoes were almost brand new. John Sontag was dissatisfied with his, however; he had bought them only a few days before in some Modesto store, and the dealer had given him a No. 9 brogan instead of a No. 8. In consequence he was compelled to wear three socks on each foot to prevent blistering. I tried to remedy the fault by exchanging footgear with him, and presently we were on what might be called a footing of neutrality.
"Because I can prove it," he answered dryly.
"How?"
"Why, by a dozen alibis to begin with. George Sontag and I left Sampson Flat on the Sunday before the train robbery. That night we stayed at Garton's warehouse, which is at the foot of the trail that goes down from Pine Ridge. Bright and early Monday morning we went over the house of Sands Baker, which is at the head of Mill creek valley, beyond the Dunlap Postoffice. We had only one horse between us and we took turns to riding and walking on the way down town Fresno. James Young and a chap called Mosier met us at a fork of the road on the way and the four of us stayed together until we reached Churchill, where Dickey's store is. It used to be the postoffice.
"Here I left the part and went on alone, for George Sontag was on his way to Visalia. I reached the house of A. P. Davis. There I stopped all night. Early Tuesday morning I started out for Mr. Pease's ranch, about two miles south of Selma, and stayed there with James Leslie until Wednesday morning at 9 o'clock, when I took the train for Fresno.
"All day Thursday I split firewood and worked about the house. I wrote a letter to Clarke Moore and mailed it. He has it in his possession now. Also one to James Leslie of Selma, asking him to send over some stretchers and harness fixtures to me by express, as I was going to take a load of supplies to the mine. Leslie has this letter also.
"Thinking this of no importance I put up the mare in the stable and went to splitting wood again. I was occupied thus when, looking out towards the gate from the shed I saw Detectives Smith and Witty returning. They dismounted from their buggy, and, as they opened the gate, drew revolvers from their pockets, thrusting them into the outside pockets of their ulsters. At the moment my little daughter Inez ran out and told me that dinner was ready, so I walked up to the house. Smith and Witty had just marched into the parlor and my little daughter was hurrying out.
"I said to Smith rather abruptly:
"`What do you want?'
"He replied: `We want to see John Sontag.'
"`He has gone up town,' I answered.
"`That's not so,' retorted Smith, `We saw him come in here a moment ago.'
"`I know nothing about that,' said I."
Here John Sontag interrupted Evans and explained how he came to have reached the Evans house so quickly. Here is his explanation:
"I was rooming," said he, "at Mrs. Byrd's house, just across the lot, and as I sat in my room I saw Witty and Smith leave the buggy with their guns in their hands, so I hastened at once over the Evans house to see what was the matter. Walking into the front door ahead of the men, I stopped back into the children's bedroom."
"Well, as I told you, I did not know that John Sontag had come back to the house. However, Smith started toward the bedroom portiere to look in. He had his gun drawn in his hand.
"At the same moment Witty put out his six-shooter and pointed it at me. I stepped aside toward the fireplace and pulled mine, and at the same time John Sontag appeared at the bedroom door with a shotgun. At this the two men whirled about and jumped for the door, nearly throwing each other down in their haste. Witty jumped off the porch and half turned with his pistol in his hand, at which I fired and shot him, but I did not see him drop his pistol. He ran out through the gate toward Jim Howard's house. I followed him around, close on his heels, He fell at the wood pile, and as I advanced toward him, he raised on his elbow and cried:
"`For God's sakes, man, don't shoot me. You have killed me now!"
"I turned away and walked back into the house. The revolver which I shot him with is this same one that lies on the pillow of my side now."
Here Sontag interrupted again to describe the flight of Detective Smith through the garden palings, and said:
"When Smith ran out of the door, ahead of Witty, I fired, but his foot had caught in a tomato vine and the charge of buckshot missed him. He got up again in a jiffy and dived head first through the palings. Once outside the fence, which he had broken to bits, he thrust his right hand half way behind him as he fled and pulled the trigger. The bullet went wide of its mark and I gave him another charge of buckshot as he dashed down the road toward town."
"After a few moments consultation we walked leisurely out to the gate and decided to appropriate the buggy and team which we found there. Putting our two shotguns and the Winchester rifle into it we drove out about two miles to the ranch of my brother-in-law, Henry Byrd. He was pleased to see us, and we told him we were going to hunt for the Daltons, who have been supposed by some to be hidden on a high peak of the Sierras. For that purpose we asked the loan of his Winchester rifle and a jug of water. Both of these very useful articles were given us.
"Mrs. Byrd waved her handkerchief to us as we drove away and wished us good luck. Thence we went to Dye's house on Nigger creek road, where we brought enough barley, to feed our team. To make doubly sure, we crossed over to Whitaker's haystack and filled the laprobe full of hay, emptying it into the buggy-top. To be sure that the horses were well fed we finally cut the wire fence and drove into Whitaker's pasture, where we unhitched the team and fed them, resting in the hay until dusk, when we drove back to town. We had an idea that we would have a nice sociable interview with the detectives in Whitaker's pasture, but it seems a lot of them who drove out by Dicky's store stopped there because they saw us. Lots of people passed us in their buggies as we drove into town, and they were extremely respectful.
"Arrived at the house we put the team in the stable, took the bits out of their mouths, watered them and let them have a little barley. It was about 11 o'clock at night by this time, and we decided to go up town and hear the news. There seemed to be a lot of excitement around the hotels and saloons, and we discussed the situation with a lot of our friends. About midnight we went back to the house and had lunch.
"We back the team out of the barn and turned them sidewise to it. John Sontag had the lines in his hand and was all ready to step in the buggy, while I was holding the off horse by the bridle.
"Suddenly we became conscious that there was a man standing about thirty yards from the barn in front of us.
"Sontag turned to me and exclaimed in a hurried whisper, `Who is that fellow?'
"I answered, `Some man working at the Encina fruit ranch.'
"But the man walked three or four steps in a northwesterly direction, then turned and faced us, and said:
"`Who's there?'
"Sontag drew up close to the buggy and answered: `Henry Byrd -- do you want to see him?'
"No answer.
"`If you do, come here!'
"No answer.
"Sontag stepped two paces away from the buggy and said sharply:
"`Have you got a gun?'
"The only reply to this was four shots fired bang-bang-bang-bang: two from a shot gun and two from a revolver, with marvelous rapidity.
"The first shot hit the nigh horse, which fell at once, and the next moment the off horse staggered over on top of it. The outer two shots were wild, for they must have gone through the top of the barn. I was entangled by the struggling horses, but managing to free myself I joined Sontag and we emptied our shotguns into the man.
"He fell and I walked toward him saying to Sontag, `We've got him!'
"When within fifteen feet of him he raised on his left arm and fired four shot from his revolver with the utmost rapidity. At this we emptied our other two barrels into his body and walked away.
"We thought that we had shot Tom Cunningham of Stockton, for the reason that we didn't believe any of the detectives would have had sand enough to fight. We did not know at the time that Hall, the companion of Oscar Beaver, who was actually the man we killed, lay concealed in a ditch near by and could have easily potted us with his rifle.
"Both horses gone there was nothing to do but to foot it out to George Smith's place, about two miles and a half out of town. Here, encamped in the road, we found a teamster with six horses.
"He was dreadfully sleepy, but as he gradually woke up he became filled with terror. However, we allayed his fears by explaining that we were out on a hunt for Sontag and Evans, and that we must have horses to ride in order to catch them.
"He replied that five of his team were young horses that hat never been ridden, and that the sixth, which he pointed out, had a very sore back.
"A bit suspicious, I put my hand out in the darkness on the animal's back to see if it would stand riding when it jumped stiff-legged and began to bite and kick its comrades.
"I didn't care so much for a horse myself as for John Sontag. His broken leg hadn't quite healed yet.
"`Save the your sympathy for the fellow that's dead,' I replied. "He needs it most.'
"At last Harvey Ward came to the door in his shirt and breeches and asked what we wanted.
"`I want breakfast in the first place,' said I, `and then I want a rig to drive to the mountains in.' At this Ward was miserable and heart-broken. He said he had nothing fit to drive.
"`All right,' said I, `the posse's coming along pretty soon and we had just as leave fight them here as any place.'
"`For Heaven's sake, no!' he moaned. `We don't want no fighting at this house. Go away for God's sake. Have breakfast and take my rig and go to the mountains just as quick as you can, gentlemen.'"
"We weren't in any hurry, though, and we enjoyed a very decent breakfast, for which we paid in cash. He was nervous al the time and couldn't eat a thing. Just as he was about to start for the barn to harness up his cart and mule for us, he spied Broder and Ellis coming down the road with guns, hot on our trail. He was frightened almost to death, and kept wringing his hands and saying, `I know there's going to be a fight."
"`Well, if there's going to be a fight just send Mrs. Ward and the children, into the back garden, and I'll take good care that the fight doesn't last long.'
"Ward thanked Providence when the two men passed without knocking at his door. As we jumped into the rig he asked us what he should say if people came after him and asked him why he had loaned it to us. We told him to tell them that he couldn't help himself and that we took it anyhow.
"On the way to Nigger creek we were very leisurely, and within about half a mile of Mrs. Lowry's house we decided to turn off the road into a little gulch, which was cool and shady, so as to give the mule a little food and drink.
"The party consisted of Ted Robinson, Bill English, J. H. Woody, the Supervisor, Hog Bell and Lawrence.
"As they parleyed one of them said: `What in thunder shall we do if we meet `em?' at which a second replied:
"`Why, we'll stay where we are and send back and bring on the whole force. For my part I'm sure they've gone down the old road. I used to travel it and I don't believe they ever went up the little gulch.'
"Now we were within twenty yards of these shrewd pursuers and we had them covered with our guns, but we spared them because there wasn't a detective among them. After they had left we walked away, crossed the road 150 yards above them and went over that evening to the Smith and Moore mill road, camping out at one side. For about two weeks we stayed there, just off the trail in a nice, convenient place, where we could watch the officers and detectives drive up and down the road with their buggies bunched together like a lot of ducklings. Sontag was very lame on account of his broken leg, and it was four weeks before he was completely recovered and could travel.
"It was about this time that we decided to pay a friendly call upon Supervisor Sam Ellis. I was dissatisfied with the way in which he had started out with John Broder to hunt for us, and didn't think it was at all the sign of a friendly spirit.
"Mr. Ellis seemed more than delighted to see us, and while he expressed the utmost regret for having pursued us, he explained to our entire satisfaction the reasons why he had done so. We parted as old friends after stopping to dinner and chatting pleasantly. He very generously provided us with a horse and cart, as we had the intention of taking a pleasure trip over the valley to visit some other old friends. We wound up the drive at John Howell's place, just above Mill creek, requesting him to see that Sam Ellis got his horse, and buggy back safely.
"We had several mining claims over in Sampson Flat, and about this time began to get nervous over their condition, so we decided to go over and inspect our property.
"They were only twenty feet away from us, on a narrow path over a steep trail. I know on one occasion we could have easily bagged seven white men and two Indians, but as our intention was only to fight in self-defense we restrained our hand from slaughter. This was the time -- I think the 11th September -- In particular when the gang went by on their way to Dunlap.
"Suddenly he looked up from the fire and cried out: `Here comes the whole gang right on top of us. What shall I do?'
"`Get out into the garden and up to the spring for a bucket of water or I'll blow the top of your head off,' I said.
"`He jumped for the porch with the bucket and dashed up the hill. Sontag shoved the door to, and grabbing our shotguns we, peered through the windows on either side of the door to see who was coming. A tall man with a pretty good figure stalked through the gate; which was about 150 feet from the house.
"Here we were penned in a small cabin, which had only one way of getting out, and that the front door. Escape was impossible. We were cornered and had to fight.
"The tall man advanced, and by his side to our astonishment came Andrew McGinnis. The balance at that moment were outside the gate.
"We waited until the first two men came within fifteen or twenty feet of the door, then we thrust our shotguns through the windowpanes and blazed away, one barrel each.
"Both men reeled and fell, and as I swung open the door swiftly and came out through the smoke toward them McGinnis cried out to Sontag:
"`For God's sake, don't, John!'
"We dashed by the two fallen men and opened fire on the balance of them. Witty fell and bellowed like a calf. Burke tumbled over the fence to the right of the gate, and I sent a Winchester bullet after him to increase his speed. He flew down the gulch and we saw him no more.
"Sprinter Smith, with a wild cry, wheeled his horse, clapped spurs to its flanks, dropped his head against the horse's neck and flew back up the trail, scattering his gun, his belt, his coat and for all I know everything that he had along the road. One Indian bawled after him to stop, but that only increased his terror.
"`Warren Hill started to run away with his horse, but a Winchester bullet dropped the animal, and Hill took to Burke's horse.
"All this occurred in the twinkling of an eye, and it was with a jump that I discovered we were attacked in the rear. John Sontag suddenly dropped his right arm and cried out that it was broken, while a bullet sped past my left eyebrow, leaving a scar. Whirling about we saw that McGinnis had revived and had turned over on his back to fill us with lead from his Winchester rifle. I was compelled to put another bullet into him to stop him.
"The coast now being clear I examined Sontag's arm. No bones were broken, and taking off the coat we found that it was only a flesh wound, and not a very bad one at that. We bandaged it with a handkerchief and walked slowly away through the cornfield.
"I left my shotgun in Young's house for the reason that Sontag's injured arm did not permit us to pack away all four of our guns.
"The next two weeks we retired to a hospital life, and while the posses of detectives and blood-money hunters were chasing each other up and down steep trails, we were in a comparatively comfortable state Several times we looked down the narrow trail below us and thought how easily we could bag a few dozen detectives with but little trouble. Indeed, there was one place where I was at the head of a pass falling off into a sheer precipice and rising a solid smooth wall above. Sontag was planted at the other end. Twelve men were on horseback. All we need have done was to take the fore and behind riders. A stampede would have ensued which would have sent the entire lot to perdition. Only for the fact that there was a newspaper man there who hailed from Visalia we would have yielded to the great temptation.
"I have seen stated in the papers -- which I get with fair regularity -- that there was a third person in Jim Young's house at the time of the shootings. This is a fairy tale of Detective Smith's. The smoke of our shotguns completely filled up the little cabin and blinded all the remaining sight of which terror had left.
"There is an idea abroad that a winter in the Sierras is pretty hard on sheepherders and miners and woodchoppers, but you may be sure that there are al lot of them who stand seven feet of snow around their cabins quite well, and didn't mind the loneliness a bit."
"I would to Heaven I could see Detective Smith, Warren Hill, John Broder, Detective Thacker and the three Apache Indian trailers in on bunch. I wouldn't leave one of them alive. They deserved to be born dead."
Against Smith their enmity is extreme. Evans explained that their contempt and desire for vengeance would not be nearly-so great if Smith had stood up to them like a man.
Another cause of distress to them was the treatment Clark Moore has received throughout the entire affair. Evans assured me that during the whole episode he had never received one iota of assistance from Clark Moore.
"On the contrary," said Evans "it was at his earnest appeal that the lives of a common men were saved. We met accidentally in a pathway at Pine Ridge one night and were ready to commit general havoc in the midst of a stupid posse of detectives. Moore vehemently implored us not to kill any one unless we were first attacked, and through his intercession we spared their lives."
Clark Moore owns the most of Sampson and Davis Flats. He has several mines there and Evans has worked for him off and on for many years. He is a very quiet fellow of excellent manners and great influence throughout the length and breadth of Fresno county. His neighbors have been extremely indignant at the strictures which the detectives put upon him.
The interview with Evans was not had altogether in the cabin I have described. Some of it occurred up in the mountains, where I suppose the detectives' posse will enjoy a merry chase some day. During the time I spent with them I was initiated into that custom of watchfulness which is observed by the fugitive who has a $10,000 price put upon my head -- alive or dead. While two ate a third would keep watch with a shotgun resting in his lap. This was compulsory so far as I was concerned.
One afternoon Evans remarked that it had come to his ears that Detective Smith said he would give his good right arm if he could meet Chris Evans and John Sontag again.
At the particular desire of Evans himself, I will state his challenge to Mr. Smith and his friend, Detective Thacker.
Here it is:
"I authorize anybody to lead Smith and Thacker to a place where they shall meet Sontag and myself, but they must not be accompanied by any others, and this upon their word of honor. They may bring any weapons they choose, and their escort will walk in front of them until they are quite ready to begin their parley with us.
The courtesy of a good three miles of clear trail for retreat shall be afforded Detective Smith in this compact. There may be some critical persons who will say that this is conveying a challenge for a duel. they are mistaken. It is simply an honest endeavor to enable Mr. Smith to enforce the law."
