Ten days later the burglary was reported in the papers. Four thousand dollars had been taken from the general store and the manhunt was on. The burglars had worked quietly. The theft was not discovered till opening-up time the next morning. The thieves were evidently experts, and left behind them the most complete set of safe-breaking tools seen in years, etc. , etc. They had escaped by taking a handcar from the section house. It was found wrecked several miles down the railroad track.

Johnnie and Sanc had strengthened their alibi and strangled any suspicion that might fall on them by taking the “John O’Brien”⁠—the bums’ term for handcar, so called because every other section boss in those days was named O’Brien⁠—and starting it down the railroad. There was a slight grade and it traveled several miles before jumping the track into the ditch, where it was found wrecked, “abandoned by the burglars.”

The hunt started from there. Blanket stiffs looking for work were brought in, questioned, locked up for a day or two, and let go. The trains were searched up and down the line. Bums were brought in, got their ten days, but the burglars escaped and in a week the hue and cry was over. It was almost three weeks before the burglars showed up at Ogden. They were nervous and irritable, complaining that the jail had got uncomfortably filled up the last few days they were there. They got lousy from the blanket stiffs. The constable was sore about the burglary and wouldn’t square them for a ride into Salt Lake as he had done for me, and they had to pay their fare out of the town. Their money was almost gone, and there, in that little burg, was four thousand dollars that couldn’t be touched for at least a month, and somebody was liable to steal it on them. I got nervous, too.