SKAGUAY, Alaska, July 15.
With the passing of “Soapy" Smith Skaguay's reign of
terror seems drawing to a close. "Soapy" is dead, and his
confederates stand a pretty good chance of going after him, if only the
law-abiding citizens of the town can connect with a halter. But there is a man
here named Sehlbrede, a Judge, who considers halters undignified. So the law
abiding citizens will probably have to content themselves with the prosaic
routine of a trial by jury.
“Soapy'' would have gone down the dark trail long ago had it
not been for the fact that he was never seen alone, and to pull a gun on him
meant death to the puller. “Tom” Reed, the city engineer, found that out, but
"Soapy" went with him, and there, is a heap of satisfaction in that.
The killing of "Soapy" Smith by Reed was the
result of a period of lawlessness which was picturesque, if uncomfortable and inconvenient.
“Soapy" came to these regions shortly after gold was discovered, and immediately
turned himself loose on the community as a bad man. He quickly gathered about
him a gang of "sure thing" gamblers, thieves and cutthroats, who regarded
him as their leader. He ran things with a high hand. His word was law, and
there was for a time no other law known in Skaguay. It was a nice place for a
tenderfoot:
Terror of Skaguay.
To show how completely "Soapy" ran the town it is
only necessary to state that on Memorial Day he delivered the address at the
celebration gotten up by the citizens of Skaguay, and on the Fourth of July he
acted as chief marshal of the parade. A versatile man was "Soapy."
He came here from Colorado, the cradle of bad men. He first
gained fame by saving the life of "Bloody Bridles" Waite, then
Governor of Colorado. Single handed, and armed only with a shotgun, he kept at
bay a squad of infantry who were on the trail of the populist leader. He knew
no fear, and often predicted that he would die with his boots on.
When Creede was experiencing a reign of lawlessness in 1891,
Smith was United States Marshal, and so vigorous was he in the pursuit of his
calling that in a short time he had turned the camp into a fairly respectable community.
On coming to Alaska, however, a change came over the spirit of his dreams.
Gathering some thirty of the most hardened and desperate men
about him he proceeded to take affairs into his own hands. He opened a saloon
on the main street of Skaguay. It was called "Jeff Smith's Parlors," and
here the gang had its headquarters.
There were ugly rumors about Smith and his "parlors,"
and the more reputable citizens gave the place a wide berth, hut in spite of
this the personality of the man was for a time strong enough to stifle the ill
feeling against him.
"Soapy" Smith's was about as tough a place as you
would and on the Western Hemisphere. In addition to dispensing bad liquor and
occasionally chloral for "knockout" purposes, "Soapy" ran a
very prosperous gambling business. No stranger ever left the place a winner. If
the cards and the doctored roulette wheel did not do the business he was knocked
over the head and robbed. That is the sort of a place "Soapy" Smith
ran.
He could always rely upon his satellites to do his bidding,
for "Soapy" in their eyes was a hero. He was a consummate and fertile
liar, his language was lurid and picturesque, and the stories of his prowess
were undoubtedly manufactured by him from the whole cloth. But he told them
well, with a liberal sprinkling of original profanity, and it is a tribute to
his intellect that he often made them up as he went along. I would almost be willing
to swear to that.
And yet he was far from being a bluffer. Several months ago
one of has bartenders shot two men, and an infuriated mob sought to lynch him.
At the risk of his own neck "Soapy," armed to the teeth, kept back
the crowd and held the upper hand until the United States Marshal from Sitka
arrived.
Bad Place for Klondikers.
Things finally came to such a pass in Skaguay, that the
miner returning from the Klondike with his dust would steer clear of the town altogether.
If he didn't he knew that he stood either a good chance of being skinned out of
his pile or of being knocked on the head if, in a moment of thoughtlessness, he
neglected to walk in the middle of the street. The sidewalks are seldom used in
Skaguay after dark for obvious reasons. The middle of the street is more
healthy.
Well, the thing culminated the other day when a party of
returning Klondikers struck town. They came from Dawson over the Dalton trail,
arriving in Dyea on Thursday. Finding that they could get not steamer out immediately,
they left there for Skaguay in the hope of getting one here, which, of course,
they couldn't. But they didn't know that. One of them, a man named Stewart, wishes
he had never seen Skaguay, but at the same time he knows that his coming was the
direct cause of the passing of "Soapy" Smith.
When "Soapy" and his gang heard that the Klondikers
were in town they pricked up their ears. They sniffed gold dust in the air. A
returning of Klondikers over the Skaguay trail Is a rare bird nowadays, and one
well worth the plucking. The metropolis of the "dead horse" trail
usually sees to it that such a one does not soon forget his visit.
The Looting of Stewart.
Arriving In the evening, the party made a few purchases and
retired for the night, resisting all the Inducements to go abroad offered by
the cappers. The next morning Stewart was on his way to the bank to make arrangements
for having his dust shipped to his home in British Columbia. A gang of confidence
sharps had camped on his trail, ready to resort to any measure to fleece him.
Four of them met him on the street. They were "Slim
Jim," one of "Soapy" Smith's chief henchmen; “Reds" Bowers,
"Bub" Tripp and "Jack" Wilder. They piled him with
questions about prices and wages in Dawson, and finally "Slim Jim" requested Stewart
to let him "heft" his little bag of dust.
Stewart thought it best to comply, as he was unarmed, and
not realizing that his money could be stolen at ten o'clock in the morning on
the public thoroughfare. But it was, just the same. The "hefter"
quickly disappeared, and when Stewart attempted to follow him the others closed
in and prevented a pursuit. Then they, too, scattered in all directions.
The Citizens Aroused.
The stolen bag contained $3,000 worth of gold Dust,
Stewart's earnings for a year. He went to Dyea and reported the matter to Judge
Sehlbrede, who issued a warrant and sent it to the marshal at Skaguay for
execution. The Judge, who has the reputation of being a game man, followed to
see that it was served. The robbery took place near "Soapy" Smith's
place, and both the marshal and the Judge knew that they would not have far to look
for their men.
As soon as the particulars of the robbery became known, and
before either the Judge or the warrant had arrived, a number of the citizens
who believe in law and order, but more particularly in order, held a meeting,
at which it was determined that something must be done at once. Of course it
was surmised that "Soapy" Smith was at the bottom of it, and so a committee
was appointed to wait on "Soapy."
"Soapy" was told that his reign had lasted long
enough and that he and his gang must quit.
"We want the man who robbed Stewart and we want the
dust he stole," said the committee.
“What’ll you do with the man in case you get the
money?" asked "Soapy." He didn't mind showing his hand.
"That is none of your business," was the reply of
the committee. It was an unfortunate reply for Stewart, for it lost him his dust
forever. And "Soapy" got mad clean through. His language was
something weird. He said he was tired of being pestered by committees of law
abiding citizens. He had no use for law abiding citizens, and he wanted it
stopped, and would see that it was stopped.
The Town Meeting.
As law abiding citizens should, the committee went its way
and made a report. Notices were posted all over town, calling for a meeting of
the citizens at Sylvester's Hall at nine o'clock that night. At the appointed hour
the place was filled to overflowing, and more were clamoring to get in. Then
the meeting adjourned to the wharf, where there was room for everybody.
Here the meeting was in progress when affairs took a serious
turn. In the midst of a speech denouncing the lawless element of the town,
"Soapy" Smith and several of his followers appeared on the scene,
fully armed and prepared for anything that might turn up. They were looking for
trouble.
"Soapy" stood up on a barrel, where everybody could
see him, and raised his hand in an imperative gesture for silence. The law abiding
citizen who was speaking stopped.
"Who in hell is runnin' this here town?" demanded "Soapy,"
in thunderous tones.
There was a dead silence. You might have heard a pin drop.
Tom Reed, the city engineer, was standing on the outskirts
of the crowd. He walked over to where "Soapy" Smith was gazing
defiantly at the upturned faced.
The Killing of Soapy.
"Do you want to know real badly who is running this
town?" he demanded.
“I reckon you heard what I said," yelled "Soapy."
"Well, then," said Reed, and the stillness seemed
to grow more intense, "let me tell you that the good citizens of Skaguay
are, and not "Soapy" Smith and his gang. Their reign is over!"
"Soapy" ripped out an oath and everybody scattered.
They knew trouble was coming. "Soapy" was armed with a Winchester
rifle, and Reed was standing directly beneath him. He unstrung his weapon, and
with its butt struck the engineer full in the face, knocking him to the ground.
Then he jumped down from the barrel and fired twice. One bullet went through
Reed's foot, and the other passed clean through his body.
Reed knew that he was mortally wounded, but he pulled his
revolver and took steady aim as "Soapy" was standing over him, ready to
send another bullet into his prostrate body. There was a flash and a report,
and the desperado sank back and fell to the ground with a bullet through his
heart, stone dead.
It was a good shot, but poor Reed paid the penalty. He was
buried day before yesterday.
A Scene of Riot.
The killing of "Soapy" was only the beginning. Those
who had been clamoring for law and order were loudest in their demand for vengeance.
The death of "Soapy" Smith had only whetted their appetites. They
wanted the entire gang to share his fate. But the gang had taken to cover.
“Soapy’s cohorts were well known, and the meeting broke up
to look for them. The air was filled with the popping of pistols. The law and
order meeting evolved itself into a vigilants’ [vigilantes'] committee, such as
characterized the early days In California. Resolutions were adopted to the effect
that the gamblers and "con" men must tot only leave Skaguay, but
Alaska.
It was determined they should go South, and no other way. To
carry out this plan, committees were sent up the trail to guard that outlet, a
detachment was told off to patrol Skaguay beach, and three boatloads were dispatch
[dispatched] to Dyea to see that no Skaguay men took refuge there. The entire
population of the town was up all night.
An Alaskan War Extra.
In Dyea is published a newspaper called the Dyea Trail. The
regular price is ten cents a copy. At seven o'clock in the morning the editor
of that enterprising sheet had gotten out an extra, a sort of war extra, a single
sheet printed on one side, describing the killing of "Soapy" Smith.
It was a marvellous [marvelous] piece of journalistic enterprise. The papers
went like hot cakes, some of them bringing fabulous prices. There was great excitement.
In the meantime Judge Sehlbrede had arrived from Dyea, prepared
to do what he could to preserve order. In the morning things were at fever heat.
All sorts of rumors were afloat, and lynching’s were freely talked of. The
entire town was up in arms, but "Soapy" Smith's gang lay low.
At six o'clock fourteen of the suspected men had been
captured and were under strict guard in the City Hall. About midnight another and
very important capture was made in the taking of one of the men who was with
"Soapy" on the dock. Later two or three other men were arrested in
the house where he was found, and the arrests (not made without bloodshed)
continued until the City Hall had become crowded with prisoners, and a number
were confined in the upper rooms of the Burkhard Hotel, in all numbering about
thirty.
Troops on the Scene.
The most important capture consisted in the taking of the
four men who had been directly Implicated in the Stewart robbery—"Slim
Jim," Bowers, Tripp and Wilder. The neighborhood of the City Hall was filled
with excited men, crazed with the lust for human blood. It looked as though the
jail would be stormed, and all the prisoners taken out and promptly lynched, but
the wise counsel of Judge Sehlbrede prevailed, and the prisoners were removed,
without any further demonstration, to the Burkhard Hotel for safer protection
and examination.
Captain R. T. Yeatman, commanding the United States troops in
Alaska, had repeatedly telephoned from Dyea to the United States Commissioner in
Skaguay to know if he could control affairs, and at eleven o’clock Sunday night
he received answer that twenty-five or thirty men might be necessary, As things
were in bad shape, and he had arranged to send a boat for them.
Captain Yeatman lost no time, and in fifteen minutes was on
the way with seventeen men, which force he felt was ample. As the boat did not
arrive he was obliged to seize one lying at the dock, and the troops arrived at
Skaguay at two o’clock Monday morning. Oh his arrival he was met with the
request that, though excitement was high, it was hoped he would not assume
charge until after Investigation.
Upon agreeing to this and leaving his men in the warehouse,
he joined the Judge at the Brannlck Hotel, just back of where the prisoners were
confined. He had no sooner reached the hotel than a shot was fired, immediately
followed by others.
Escape of "Slim Jim."
Both the Judge and the Captain ran into the street and soon
found themselves in the midst of a howling mob, in the centre [center] of which
was "Slim Jim," with a rope about his neck. He had attempted to
escape by leaping from the third story window, and the attempt very nearly cost
him his life prematurely. It took all the persuasive eloquence of the Judge,
backed up by the commanding presence and the uniform of the Captain, to enable
"Slim Jim" to get back to his quarters. And glad enough he was to get
there.
After that Captain Yeatman brought his men up and placed them
on guard about the hotel. But the excitement has now subsided, at least for the
present, and the troops have been withdrawn. Marshal Tanner, in an address to
the people of Skaguay, said that Captain Yeatman at the first act of violence
would return with his men and place the town under martial law; that he had
gone back to Dyea, but had only done so upon the solemn assurance of the Marshal
and the leading business men that order would be maintained and the men who had
been arrested would be protected and have a fair trial.
And that is the way matters stand in Skaguay to-day.
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