Wheeling Sunday Register

The Experience of a Wheeling Man With Denver Desperado WHO RECENTLY MET DEATH IN ALASKA-WAS ROPED IN BY A BUNCO MAN-FOUND HIS WAY TO A YARD, AND ESCAPED BY TEARING A BOARD LOOSE FROM A HIGH FENCE-GENERAL FEAR OF SMITH AND HIS GANG.

The death of "Soapy" Smith in the Klondike, which has been commented upon at length by all the western newspapers, makes the experience of a Wheeling man with Smith's gang very interesting at this time. The story is familiar to friends of the gentleman, who is very well known. He repeated it to a Register reporter last night, but would not consent to the use of his name. Here is his story:

"The shooting to death of the notorious "Soapy" Smith in Skagway, Alaska, recently, brings to my mind very vividly my experience with his nibs in Denver, Col., a few years ago.

"Feeling bad for some time I decided to try Colorado for relief. I reached Denver about two o'clock in the afternoon, tired and hungry, and after a bath and a meal, strolled out to see the town. I was walking along slowly with my overcoat on my arm--sign of stranger in town--when two well-dressed fellows, aged about 35 years, approached me, and asked where they could get a glass of Milwaukee beer. This was done to throw me off my guard, as I soon after learned.

"I told them I had just arrived, and didn't know. They informed me that they also had only been in town a few hours, having come originally from Virginia, but had spent some time in Wisconsin. While we were talking one of them said, pointing across the street to a saloon: 'There is a Milwaukee sign. Let's go over and have a glass.' I was invited and told them I didn't drink, but would take a cigar.

After they had their beer and I my cigar, we all sat down to talk and get better acquainted, as I supposed--at least that's the way we do in Wheeling. Immediately after we sat down, one of the fellows, who seemed to be spokesman, began fumbling in his inside coat pocket and brought out a few letters, one of which he began to read, and presently folded it up, saying as he did so that it was a letter from his uncle that he received in Milwaukee, and as he had almost forgotten his address, he had to refer to the letter which gave the address as 'Soaptown,' opposite end of viaduct from Denver proper. He went on to say that his uncle had mining claims at Cripple Creek and always kept a quantity of gold and silver ore and nuggets on hand, and he could probably get me a nugget to wear as a watch charm, if I cared to go with them.

"As they seemed very good fellows, I was going to be good, too, and went along. After we got on the car the operator turned around and looked at me, and while collecting our fares, which one of my new friends insisted on paying, the conductor looked me square in the eye. The operator and conductor both looking at me in the manner described, said as plain as language: 'Young fellow, you're up against it,' and I knew it.

"I was with two of "Soapy" Smith's bunco steerers.

"On arriving at the end of the viaduct the car was stopped and my companions both got off. I hesitated a moment, but only a moment, when I got off and followed them like a lamb being led to slaughter. We walked along for some time through a deserted shantytown, until we came to a two-story frame shanty, which, by a sign above the door, informed one that it was the Farmers' Home. My friend opened the door and we entered, and the sight that met my eyes I shall never forget, but before I go further, I must state that the door had been locked by one of the party after we entered. I intended to make a break for liberty, and in looking to see how the door opened, saw that it was locked. I now fully realized my plight, and with quaking knees and my heart in my mouth, gave up in despair. I knew that I would lose everything I had in my possession and possibly my life, and I didn't have a thing to defend myself with. I didn't have much to lose in money--between $175 and $200--but it was quite a sum too, considering that I was sick, over one thousand miles from home, and in a strange land, and in the coils of the chief of bunco men and his gang.

"But what was troubling me most was my life. I believe that if the proposition was made to me to give up everything and go free, I would not have changed words, but have complied willingly, and promptly. But to describe the inside and what happened: There was a rough counter, about ten feet long, a few empty whisky bottles and cigar boxes. Several decks of cards and dice boxes were lying scattered along some very rough shelving that answered for a sideboard. Shortly after we entered, and while I was becoming weak in the knee joints, and wanted to sit down, a fellow raised up from behind the bar, dressed in the garb of a country inn keeper--rough clothing, well worn, a white slouch hat and long red chin whiskers. I saw through this make-up at once. He was the "uncle" spoken of, to whom I received an introduction, and while we were shaking hands, down rushed a fellow from the upstairs, or loft, which it really was, his hat in one hand and a torn valise in the other, his clothing all muddy but dry, and his brown hair, which was very long, sticking out in all positions from his head, swearing and raising the mischief generally because he wasn't called for a certain train for Cripple Creek.

"He drew a roll of money out of his pocket, and pulling off a ten dollar bill, laid it on the bar and called for a pint of cocktails in a hurry. As there was no whisky in sight and nothing in fact to mix a cocktail, I saw right away that this fellow was also one of the gang and was only playing his little part in this drama of preparing a victim for slaughter.

"Well, to get back to my story: The young fellow was challenged by my friend, the nephew, to shake dice for the pint of cocktails; and he told him he didn't have time, but would shake him five dashes for ten dollars a dash, which was agreed to. While the money was being counted on the bar the quiet man of the party started towards the rear of the building. I followed him.

"When I reached the rear room I was in the dark, but could see the three fellows at the bar. I glanced back hurriedly, and discovered them looking toward me. The fellow I was following unlocked and opened the rear door, and I grabbed hold of the door and was in the yard almost as soon as he was.