This is part 2 of a two-part series on Bill Carlisle -- Wyoming's Most Affable Train Robber
Bill Carlisle, who had brazenly robbed Union Pacific Trains in February and early April 1916, and escaped through his own elusive efforts – and with some aid provided by ranchers, would hide in plain sight for several weeks.
He took trains from Denver to Greeley in Colorado and then from Rawlins to Laramie. By the time he departed the train in Laramie there were wanted posters for him on almost every telegraph and telephone pole in the entire region. By then the Union Pacific was preparing for the third robbery Bill had promised in an earlier letter to the Denver Post.
The posters offered rewards of $500 and $1,000 for his first robbery and $5,000 for the second.
Third Train Robbery (April 21, 1916)
In spite of the warnings and reward posters, Bill did not back away from his plans for a third robbery. He climbed aboard another UP Train and took his time figuring out who was the guard on the train.
The guard was in the observation car where Bill sat in the only open seat, between the guard and the brakeman. The three casually discussed the letter in the Denver Post.
As the train left Hanna, a guard moved to the rear platform. Bill returned to his Pullman car and retrieved two pistols and ammunition. When he returned to the observation car, both the guard and the brakeman were gone.
Bill removed the light bulb in the forward end of the car and in the darkness donned his white mask. Unfortunately, the missing guard approached at that moment and the silk scarf plummeted to the floor before Bill finished tying it. The maskless bandit told the guard three times to raise his hands before the man complied.
Bill pushed the guard ahead and ordered everyone in the car to raise their hands. The passengers complied and Bill ordered the porter to pass his cap around to collect valuables. When the porter asked about a group of showgirls on the platform, Bill refused to rob the women.
The conductor entered the car and shouted, “What the hell is going on here?” Bill answered, “Oh we’re just playing hold-up. Put your hands up, too!” Bill robbed the guard of two pistols and the content of the man’s billfold.
With the conductor and the disarmed guard pushed into the lead, Bill moved to other cars, collecting more “donations” along the way. Near the Edson tunnel, Bill knew the train would have to slow. He chose that place to jump into the darkness.
Bill landed on a soft road about ten yards from the actual tunnel. He had fallen on his right side, scratching his face and hurting an ankle. As a result of the fall, he lost one of his own pistols and another taken from the guard.
His escape was slow and painful. It was too dark to see, and his ankle injury was excruciating. He took off the right shoe first and then the left. Barefoot he hobbled through the brush. He reached the North Platte river about two o’clock a.m. and rested for a short time before heading north again.
Hearing horsemen approaching, he laid flat on the ground and let them pass. At about six o’clock a.m., he hid in the brush on the banks of the river. He bathed his swollen ankle. In the light of morning Bill realized he could not see clearly with his right eye.
Meantime, the train stopped at Walcott, roughly four miles from where Bill had jumped. With word of the robbery, other Union Pacific stations soon loaded men, horses, and gear to transport posses to bring in the bandit. At Walcott, the guard Bill had robbed was authorized to raise a posse no matter what it cost.
This posse was to find Bill’s trail while the special trains approached from both east and west to help with the search. The general manager was bringing a train from Omaha. Other trains arrived in the search area at about two o’clock a.m. and 5:30 a.m. Many curious drivers patrolled the back roads in automobiles.
About nine o’clock a.m. Bill heard men nearby. He moved into heavier brush and rested. About three in the afternoon his luck ran out. He called out to a rider who took a shot that narrowly missed. When a second rider positioned himself to shoot Bill in the back, the first rider intervened and pushed the man’s rifle barrel toward the ground. The weapon discharged, the bullet kicking up the dirt twenty feet in front of Bill. The Lone Bandit was captured!
Prison
Once in custody Bill became a valuable commodity. He was photographed on the courthouse steps; the image being reprinted for sale almost immediately. The courts had to sort out who was entitled to the rewards. Bill was brought into court, and bail was set at $50,000.
Bill met with the two lawyers who were assigned to defend him. He refused to testify or offer any defense. The trial started on May 8, 1916. The judge would accept no jurors who had no qualms about inflicting the death penalty. The prosecution put on a dozen witnesses before the packed court gallery.
Bill remained firm in his decision to offer no defense and the jury was instructed to restrict its findings to the death penalty, life imprisonment, or acquittal. Bill was certain it would be death.
On May 10th the jury returned a verdict of life in prison. Two of the jurors had voted for the death penalty. The judge sentenced Bill to life in prison in at the state penitentiary in Rawlins. But the judge, who seemed disappointed at not being able to impose the death penalty, gave Bill a tongue lashing for good measure.
Bill’s few words in court were to the effect that he would smile whatever the verdict. So, he did.
Bill determined to be a model prisoner, and in doing so reduce his sentence. After several years, Bill applied to the governor for commutation of the life sentence. He was surprised to learn that the governor granted a sentence commutation to fifty years, knowing full well it was the equivalent of a life sentence. All that good behavior had bought nothing.
Bill then resolved to commute his own sentence. Several men had escaped from the prison, so he knew it could be done. It was time to come up with another plan.
The Lone Bandit Makes His Escape
In secrecy, Bill carefully planned his escape. The penitentiary ran a shirt manufacturing shop. Bill had earned some trust sufficient to work as the shop office manager. As such he oversaw all bills of lading for orders being shipped to customers.
The escape inspiration came when a rush order was received from Chicago. The order was not quite packed for shipping when Bill convinced the warden that he could finish packing it when the prisoner population was at the regular Saturday afternoon show. He constructed a special packing crate similar to other boxes to be shipped.
He tested being allowed to be the sole packer during Saturday afternoon shows for several weeks. Then he tested having the shippers pick up crates without him having to be present.
When the system ran smoothly, Bill was satisfied it was time to go. He packed himself into the special shipping crate placed at the spot where it automatically would be picked up by the shippers.
In the shipping container, Bill was driven through Rawlins to the depot where his crate was moved to a warehouse. Once there he cut his way out of the crate and called upon his iron legs to walk through the snow to Creston, west of Rawlins. Bill was not missed until about eight o’clock on the evening of his escape. The word spread rapidly; the Lone Bandit had escaped!
Bill then walked into the outback in search of a sheep camp where he might acquire different clothes and perhaps a firearm. He passed several camps before finding one that was out of sight and absent of herders. There he stole clothes and burned some of his prison attire. Bill also acquired a rifle.
But he didn’t leave and when the herder returned before dark, he knew who Bill was. The herder was accommodating and shared a supper with Bill, the two talking about prison life.
After dark Bill borrowed a horse from the shepherd and rode it to the railroad tracks. He set the horse loose there to find its way back to camp. Bill walked back to Creston where he found a posse there checking all the westbound trains. Undaunted, he hopped an eastbound train and soon was walking through the Rawlins depot. He tried to appear as a railroad guard. It worked, and no one recognized him.
Still pretending to be a guard, Bill climbed aboard the first eastbound train. The train had to pull off on a siding about twenty miles from Laramie. There Bill was invited to the engine to keep warm while they waited for two trains to pass. The subject of conversation was Bill’s escape. One of the five occupants of the engine house claimed to know Bill Carlisle by sight, but that obviously was a tall tale.
Bill departed the train in Laramie. As the fugitive left, the engineer called out, “So long Bill, and good luck.” This would not be the last time that Bill was recognized and not turned in.
The Union Pacific was not universally loved and Bill’s good nature paid off. In Laramie, the cashier at a restaurant gave him a five-dollar bill saying, “You better keep that. You will need it.” As he waited to make his next move, he was approached by four men who claimed to be for Bill and warned about another man working nearby who would love to claim the reward.
The Fourth Train Robbery (November 19, 1919)
In Laramie, the eastbound trains were searched. Bill considered robbing a store but figured that since the Union Pacific was making life difficult, he might as well rob another train. Bill traveled west to a cement snowshed through which trains would slowly pass. When the opportunity arose, he slid between two cars.
After the train passed Rock River, Bill made his move. He smashed the butt of his rifle against the door of a coach. This alerted a guard. The guard rushed to the noise but backed away when threatened by Bill.
The Lone Bandit entered the next car, which was chock full of soldiers and sailors returning from World War I. He told the military men that he would not take their money, and he wished he could have served with them. He then proceeded to rob the civilian men. Bill passed over the women and an elderly couple. After receiving “donations” from about a half dozen passengers he moved on to the next car.
Bill knew that the alarm had been sounded, and guards alerted. He planned to get off at Medicine Bow, the next stop.
While he waited between cars two boys emerged from the day car, one held a gun. Wished to avoid shooting the young men. He swung his rifle barrel against the pistol the first lad held. It discharged with an ear-splitting roar.
Bill received a painful wound in his right hand. His arm numbed and blood flowed profusely. The youths must have been surprised by Bill’s laughter. He later wrote that he had seen movies where the villain was shot in the hand and promptly dropped the weapon, but his hand was locked around the rifle.
It was time for another plan. As they approached Medicine Bow, he considered the best path to get him back to Laramie. As he jumped from the train. another man jumped out from a different car, hitting the ground at the same time.
A man leaned out a window and sprayed a fusillade of bullets. Bill rolled over the track to avoid getting hit. The other man who jumped from the train took a shot at Bill with a rifle. Soon all hell broke loose, as gunfire erupted from a number of windows. Both Bill and the rifleman dodged the bullets by seeking the shelter of the dark.
Crawling on his stomach Bill crossed the eastbound tracks. He then called upon those iron legs to save him once again. He sprinted to a sheep corral and then crossed a meadow. As he reached the Medicine Bow River, sporadic shot fired wildly into the dark echoed. He circled around all night to a place that brought him a couple of miles away from Medicine Bow. He rested until midday and then headed north.
A Friendly Sanctuary
Daylight brought him to friends who fed him and dressed his wounds. From this refuge he headed to the Little Laramie where there was sanctuary among more friends. This time he had access to a telephone. The party lines of the time were tremendous sources of information. He was able to track the progress of the posse sent from Laramie all the way to Antelope Basin, where the posse stopped to hunt antelope.
Bill decided it was time to leave when two ranchers approached the house. Their conversation with Bill’s friend was about whether Carlisle had been caught and announced the $5,000 reward. Despite his friends’ assurances that no one in the area would be so low as to turn Bill in, it was time to go. Besides there was snow in the air. It was time for Bill to stretch his legs again.
On Thanksgiving, Bill met up with another rancher friend in Cottonwood Park, having dinner with the family before leaving. So it went. Bill stayed with a series of hospitable ranchers all of whom were comfortable of extending the fugitive a helping hand and a place to shelter.
Carlisle hiked from the Dutchman to the Rutherfords to the Day’s place then to Newell’s and to Brae’s place. Some of his benefactors had never met him but suspected who he was. While at Brae’s, a posse showed up and almost caught Bill as he hid in the steep rocky terrain.
Bill listened carefully as Sheriff Roach and Chief Special Union Pacific Agent McClements discussed picking up the trail in the morning. He was so close to his pursuers he could have shot them both, but he was not a killer.
Capture
Bill was certain that someone in Cottonwood Park must have informed upon him. He figured it must have been the folks who gave him a Thanksgiving dinner. He held no grudge against them and focused on the problem at hand. Bill did his best to hide his trail as he departed his hiding place and found an empty cabin. His arm was swollen, as he had yet to have any medical attention short of washing it and wrapping the wound.
He continued walking, choosing a path that would be difficult for the posse to follow. Bill had a fever and soon was stumbling and falling as he trod through the deep snow. After climbing the hills near Estabrook Ridge he came upon a miner named Williams who gave him a much-needed breakfast before he collapsed in a bed.
About this time, the posse had tracked Bill to the previous night’s empty cabin. While there the driver of the auto stage informed the pursuers about seeing tracks headed to Estabrook Ridge. The posse split, one group following the tracks in the snow. Sheriff Roach and three other men took an automobile directly to the ridge.
Parking the car some distance from the ridge, the sheriff and his men approached the cabin and asked the miner to come outside. After confirming that Bill was there, the miner was shoved to the ground and force to spread eagle in the snow. The noise awakened Bill.
His mind weighed several options. Most of them wound up with him dead in a shootout. He stepped forward, unarmed, to surrender. He was told to raise his hands, but the swollen right arm would not fully obey. Before he could answer that the hand was raised as high as it could go, Bill was shot with a high-powered rifle in the right of his chest. Two of the posse pinned Bill to the ground by stepping on his wrists.
Treatment for Bill’s wounds was withheld for quite a while. When Bill mentioned that Sheriff Roach would not be able to hide the truth of the capture. This seemed to worry the sheriff, and the entry wound was wrapped with a bandage. The exit wound was left open to the air. Bill was put atop a horse and taken to the automobile for transport to the Douglas hospital. It took time to find a doctor but soon Bill was on the operating table.
The nature of the wound was clear to the doctor. He asked if Bill had his arm raised when shot. The sheriff did not answer. Bill was questioned thoroughly over his week-long hospital stay. He was robbed of his clothes.
The hospital was under order to do the minimum in treatment and send Bill to Rawlins. No attention was given to his wounded hand. When his wounded lung was found to be infected, the guards forbade his removal to the Cheyenne hospital. It was clear to Bill and the medical people who treated him that the prisoner was intended to die.
Prison Again
When back in prison, the authorities dallied another five days before allowing an operation on Bill’s wounds. After that delay. the thought was that the surgery was expected to finish the Lone Bandit. The operation on the infected lung turned out to be successful, though the pain was such that Bill wished it failed. After another five months, surgery was performed on the injured hand.
The new warden, Hadsell, made prison life more difficult for Bill. When the prison factory was set on fire, Bill had to shake off inmates who did not want him to notify the guards. The factory burned down anyway but the general population held Bill in contempt for spreading the alarm. He had few friends on the inside.
Bill wrote the Union Pacific to stop blocking his release and to give him a job. There was no answer. Bill did have a few supporters on the outside. When his original lawyer died, his widow recommended a man in the Prisoner’s Aide Society. The man attempted to scam Bill out of large cash bond.
When Warden Hadsell died, he was replaced by former Sheriff Roach, the man who led the posse which captured Bill. The new warden improved the foods at the penitentiary.
Then Father Schellinger took an interest in Bill and spoke for his release at a parole board meeting. The result was that 360 days of “good time” were restored to Bill’s credit for release. It was a pittance, but it restored Bill’s hope. Sometime later he was moved to a prison farm near Riverton.
And eventually he was to be released from prison. Before his release however, Bill was driven to a suspicious meeting in a cemetery. He was met by John Gale and A. S. Kensworthy, chief special agents with the Union Pacific Railroad. They demanded to know what Bill was going to do when released. His answer was simple and direct.
Bill was Kemmerer-bound to start a business. The agents threated him with immediate prosecution on two warrants if they ever heard of another Lone Bandit robbery of a Union Pacific train. Bill told them he was going straight. On January 8, 1931, Wild Bill Carlisle was released after almost twenty years of prison.
A New Start
True to his word Bill went to Kemmerer. Father Schellinger was there and was helpful in getting a new life established for Bill. The Lone Bandit opened a cigar and newsstand. He made many friends. There would be other jobs in other places for Bill. His celebrity helped him become an accomplished speaker. He was an occasional headliner at Yellowstone.
In 1947 Bill published his memoirs titled Bill Carlisle Lone Bandit an Autobiography. The book ends with the line, “Walls cannot make a prison of a man’s mind or soul—that is my philosophy.”
Terry A. Del Bene can be reached at terrydelbene@me.com
