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Headshot of Cowboy State Daily's managing editor, Greg Johnson.

Greg Johnson

Crime & Courts

Courts

Perhaps using a credit card stolen from his former landlord wasn’t the best decision for a 38-year-old Douglas man facing 72 felony charges related to allegations of sexual abuse of minors and child pornography.

That could be how law enforcement knew John Charles Smallbone, who is free from jail on his Wyoming charges after paying a $250,000 bond in cash, was in Colorado last week when he was picked up by law enforcement there on a fugitive warrant out of Converse County.

His former landlord reported to the Converse County Sheriff’s Office on July 20 that Smallbone was using his credit card without permission to run up a bill of more than $700 at a Fort Collins hotel, along with trying to order Uber rides with the same card.

Two days later on Wednesday, Larimer County Sheriff’s Office deputies arrested Smallbone.

 on his own recognizance before Wyoming authorities could come get him.

He couldn’t be held because the extradition paperwork, which Converse County Sheriff’s Office officials say was sent to Colorado in time, didn’t make it to the magistrate for the hearing.

Smallbone’s former landlord told Cowboy State Daily on Monday that the first thought he had when his credit card texted him a fraud alert was that Smallbone was trying to flee his Wyoming charges.

“When that came through, I knew it was him,” the landlord said. “I texted him and asked, ‘Are you running?’ And he said he wasn’t running, that he was in town.”

That’s when Smallbone’s former landlord said he asked a follow-up question.

“I said, ‘If you’re in town, why does the credit card say you’re in Colorado?’ That’s when he ghosted me,” he said.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"About That Credit Card"}]

That text with Smallbone telling his former landlord he was in Douglas when he was actually about 175 miles away in Colorado was the only communication the landlord said he’s had with the man since he posted the $250,000 bond.

“Until then, I hadn’t seen or heard from him since he got out of jail,” the man said. “He’s not around here, I know that. I haven’t seen him.”

The former landlord said that Smallbone had access to the credit card through a deal made with him previously.

“He owed me a lot of back rent, so we made an agreement where he didn’t have to pay rent and could work, do some jobs,” he said.

That’s what the former landlord told Converse County authorities as well, according to an affidavit of probable cause written by Lt. Benjamin Peech attached to a new charge of misdemeanor credit card fraud made available by the court Monday.

“About one year prior, (the landlord) entered into an arrangement with John C. Smallbone,” the affidavit says. “This agreement was that Smallbone would perform repairs around the trailer park and (the landlord) would provide Smallbone his residence rent-free.”

The credit card was supposed to be kept in a shop on the property and available in case Smallbone needed it to make repairs around the property, Peech wrote.

All other times before last week, Smallbone would call the landlord prior to making a purchase with the card, tell him what it was for and the cost.

The landlord told Cowboy State Daily on Monday that he didn’t know Smallbone had the card.

Peech also wrote that he followed up with a hotel in Fort Collins where the credit card was used, and an employee there looked at photos of Smallbone and confirmed he used the credit card at check-in to cover incidental charges.

The same card was used to book and pay for the room through Expedia, the affidavit says.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"About That $250,000"}]

Smallbone’s former landlord emphasized that the two are not friends and only knew each other because the former was living in a trailer on the property when the latter bought it.

“He was there when I bought the property about 18 months ago,” he said. “I don’t know how long he was there overall, probably about 10 years or so, I guess.”

Like other people around Converse County he’s talked to, the landlord said he also “was totally shocked” when he learned someone walked into the Converse County Detention Center on June 24 with $250,000 cash to bond him out.

“That’s just wild,” he said. “I mean, they didn’t seem like the kind of people who have that kind of money lying around.”

It seems the Wyoming Public Defender’s Office in Converse County also would like an explanation.

Smallbone was appointed a public defender to represent him in facing the 72 felony charges because he claimed he couldn’t afford an attorney on his own, according to a motion the office filed with the court.

But after someone coughed up a quarter of a million in cash to get him out of jail, he doesn’t qualify, the motion says.

“The defendant had the ability to post two hundred fifty thousand ($250,000) dollars cash in bond,” says the motion to reconsider the court appointment. “The defendant stated on his application for court-appointed counsel he had no ability to borrow money for his legal defense.”

Smallbone also didn’t disclose on his application that he owned a business, nor list two boats as assets he could potentially sell to pay for his own lawyer, the motion says.

Finally, if Smallbone had access to that kind of money to get out of jail, he could have used that instead to hire private counsel to represent him, it says.

The public-facing court record doesn’t show a ruling on the motion to withdraw by the public defender’s office. A call to the office wasn’t returned by publication.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Will He Show Up?"}]

The $250,000 question now is will Smallbone show up for his arraignment in Converse County District Court on Tuesday afternoon?

A call to a phone number linked to Smallbone in his court file went to voicemail. A message left for him wasn’t returned by publication.

[{"type":"text","text":"His former landlord isn’t holding his breath."}]

“Yeah, I’d be pretty surprised if he was there, but I don’t know about that stuff,” he said, adding he’s also baffled about how he slipped through the Colorado court system.

“I don’t understand how that shit works, but that’s nuts,” he said. “When I first heard about (what he’s charged with) I was like, ‘That son of a bitch.’

“You would think the state of Colorado would want him off the streets, too. He needs to be locked up.”

The list of charges against Smallbone is long, including:

• 1 count of first-degree sexual abuse of a minor.

• 36 counts of possessing child pornography.

• 16 counts of using a video camera to record intimate areas of another person without consent.

• 18 counts of knowingly manufacturing, generating, or creating child pornography.

• 1 count of possessing more than 3 ounces of marijuana (1.3 pounds).

The case against Smallbone exploded when forensic examinations were performed on his cellphone and electronic devices, according to an affidavit Peech wrote to support those charges.

On them, they found dozens of images and videos depicting prepubescent girls and boys performing a wide range of sex acts, the affidavit says.

Many of the videos appear to have been created by Smallbone in rooms and spaces that are identifiable and linked to alleged potential victims.

There also were videos of Smallbone having sex with an adult female, the affidavit says, adding that the woman told investigators she had no knowledge she was on camera.

The most disturbing allegations stem from a series of at least seven videos that the affidavit reports allegedly show a young girl having her pants pulled down and being subjected to having sex with a dog.

If convicted with maximum concurrent sentences, Smallbone could face up to 791 years in prison and fines of up to $710,000.

The most serious is the sexual abuse of a minor charge, which calls for a sentence of between 25 and 50 years.

Now he can add another potential six months in jail and up to $750 in fines if convicted of credit card fraud, a misdemeanor because the amount was less than $1,000.

If he fails to appear for his Tuesday arraignment hearing in Douglas, Smallbone will forfeit the $250,000 cash that was posted for him.

He’s also wanted on another $10,000 bond relating to the credit card fraud charge, and has a $50,000 signature bound in Colorado that will be forfeited if he fails to show up for his next court hearing there on Thursday.

John smallbone 7 27 26

Cowboy State Daily is Wyoming’s largest newspaper with Wyoming’s most experienced journalists. 

<title>Stolen Credit Card Tracked Man Wanted On 72 Child Sex Abuse Charges To Colorado | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Charges on a stolen credit card tracked a Wyoming man wanted on 72 child sex abuse charges to Colorado last week. “If you’re in town, why does the credit card say you’re in Colorado?” the man who owns the card asked John Smallbone in a text.

Stolen Credit Card Tracked Man Wanted On 72 Child Sex Abuse Charges To Colorado

Employee kate meadows cropped

Kate Meadows

Coal

For more than three decades, Jim Allington's workday began long before sunrise.

Most mornings, he pulled out of his driveway in Douglas around 3 a.m. for the 73-mile drive to Peabody Energy's North Antelope Rochelle Mine, where 16-hour shifts in upper management were routine.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"I never missed a day,\" Allington said. \"Never been late.\""}]

By the time he retired a little more than a year ago, the long commute had taken its toll. During his final year on the job, he struck two elk while driving to work. Between the exhausting schedule and the mounting risks of the highway, he knew it was time.

He also believed he was leaving with one of the retirement benefits the company had promised: a Retiree Medical Allowance worth roughly $260,000 that could help pay health insurance premiums and medical expenses throughout retirement.

[{"type":"text","text":"But about two weeks ago, a letter arrived in the mail."}]

Peabody Energy notified retirees it will terminate the program at the end of 2026, ending a benefit many former employees say they relied on when planning retirement.

By the end of the year, Allington estimates he will have used about $20,000 of the $260,000 he said he was promised.

“Where did my other 240,000 go?” he posted on social media.

“They took away my benefits that they promised,” he told Cowboy State Daily.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Why the RMA is Going Away"}]

Peabody Energy said in an emailed statement to Cowboy State Daily that it decided to discontinue the program because it "is not aligned with market-competitive practices."

"Peabody is providing advance notice to allow those affected time to plan and prepare, and we remain committed to supporting employees in their retirement planning," the company said.

The statement did not address Cowboy State Daily’s question about how many employees the decision will affect.

This isn’t the first time Peabody Energy has slashed benefits for its retirees.

In 2020, the company cut health benefits and terminated life insurance for retirees older than 65 as part of a cost-cutting strategy. Retirees younger than 65 could maintain their coverage.

[{"type":"text","text":"The move would help Peabody save about $175 million."}]

The company had declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 2016. While it pulled out of bankruptcy quickly, it was potentially headed toward a second bankruptcy in 2020, the company said.

That’s when Gillette retirees Gloria and Rick Buell, who spent a combined 30 years working for Peabody Energy at several Wyoming coal mines, received their own letter in the mail, informing them their health benefits would be terminated at the end of the year.

Gloria Buell told Cowboy State Daily she and her husband did pretty well for the first six-to-nine months of retirement.

[{"type":"text","text":"“When we retired in 2017, we were promised this money,” she said."}]

She recalled a big meeting for employees where Peabody representatives talked about a big pot of money meant to cover health costs for company retirees.

“It would last you the rest of your life,” Gloria said she remembers hearing. “It was promised as part of your retirement.”

Retirees could select their own health insurance companies. They were responsible for paying their premiums every month, but Peabody was dependable at reimbursing them, Gloria said.

[{"type":"text","text":"The Buells fell into a predictable cycle."}]

“Every month when I would do my bills, I would pay our insurance and would send the receipt off to Peabody,” Gloria said. “They would cut me a check. It worked really well.”

[{"type":"text","text":"But the cycle didn’t last."}]

The Buells learned in 2020 the program was being discontinued for retirees over 65.

“All of a sudden we get a letter and it’s going away,” Gloria recalled. “And they did it so weird. They took it away from the seniors – the people who needed it most – and gave it to younger people. We were like, what the hell?”

Since then, the couple has paid for their own supplemental insurance and prescription drugs – expenses they weren’t counting on.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"No Fight"}]

Neither the Buells nor Allington have pushed back on the company for what they see as broken promises.

[{"type":"text","text":"“It’s all legal,” Allington said. “It in the fine print.”"}]

A clause in the RMA’s wording allows the company to legally cancel the program.

In Vincennes, Indiana, retired Peabody Energy workers protested after receiving letters like Allington’s.

Both Allington and Gloria Buell said they once considered Peabody one of the best companies in the coal industry.

They remember working long hours, building lifelong friendships and believing the company would keep the promises it made when employees retired.

[{"type":"text","text":"Today, they say, that trust has largely disappeared."}]

“The integrity of the company has gone to hell,” Allington said. “They don’t care about their employees like they used to. They keep taking and taking and taking. They promise you stuff. It all sounds good, and then they take it away.”

Gloria said, “It doesn’t ever surprise me what the coal mines do. It’s whatever saves them the most money.”

[{"type":"text","text":"A grandson of the Buells works for Peabody today."}]

Gloria said she hasn’t talked to him much about the retirement outlook at the company because retirement is not on his mind.

“He don’t think about retirement,” she said. “He’s too young.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Company Earnings"}]

Peabody Energy will announce its second-quarter earnings results with management in a conference call Wednesday. Its quarter one report fell short of investors’ expectations, with a net loss of $32.4 million for common stockholders.

Sales grew nearly 4% year over year, but costs outpaced that sales growth, according to the financial analysis platform Chartmill.

Antelope Rochelle Mine, about 65 miles south of Gillette, employs about 1,125 people, according to the Peabody Energy website. The mine produced 65 million tons of coal in 2025.

Peabody energy jim allington

<title>Retired Peabody Energy Employees Feel Betrayed By Cancellation Of Medical Benefits | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Retired Wyoming employees of Peabody Energy say they feel betrayed by its decision to end a medical retirement benefits program. "I never missed a day," said Douglas' Jim Allington. The company says the program no longer fits "market competitive practices."

Retired Peabody Energy Employees Feel Betrayed By Cancellation Of Medical Benefits

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily reporter, Jackie Dorothy.

Jackie Dorothy

 in Hot Springs County that was becoming a ghost town by the time World War II broke out. 

Beginning in 1932, the once busy mines were being closed permanently and families were moving away, with only a few remaining to work in smaller private mines. Then World War II called away the young men of Gebo to serve as soldiers, many of them still teenagers.

and his friends formed the Junior Marines and

re just as dedicated as any who were serving abroad.

“We all tried to be good soldiers, and whenever any of us got out of line, you sure heard about it from the rest of the group,” Bolich, 93, told Cowboy State Daily. “I think the added discipline was good for all of us.”

Bolich said that whenever they heard of a soldier coming home on furlough, the Junior Marines would gather at the schoolhouse and march to the soldier's home to sing the Marines' Hymn.

“When the family would come outside to see what was going on, we would salute the soldier and then march back to the school,” Bolich said. “We never gave any thought to the fact that they might have been in the Army, Air Force or Navy.”

Bolich chuckled at his youthful ignorance and said that when he was older he learned the soldiers and their parents got a kick out of watching the Junior Marines perform, especially if the soldier being serenaded was not an actual Marine.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Teenage Soldiers"}]

The Junior Marines were inspired by two Gebo teenagers who had both enlisted on the same day. 

Stanley "Dutch" Wedlock, 18, had graduated from Thermopolis High School and volunteered in the Marines. His younger brother, Lee, also volunteered to the Marines although he was only 16.

“Lee lied about his age so he could volunteer,” Bolich wrote in his memoirs, “Gebo, Living in a Coal Camp”. “At that time, there was such a demand for manpower that the War Department did not take the time to examine everyone's birth certificate. In fact, many of the soldiers could not produce a birth certificate, so if you looked 18, you were accepted.”

After their boot camp, Dutch and Lee were assigned to different Marine divisions. They were not to see each other for the next three years.

A miraculous story about the two young soldiers was broadcast to the world by the Denver Radio Station KOA and picked up by The Associated Press in July 1944.

“A story of Gebo boys comes out of Saipan, Marianas Islands,” Staff Sgt. Hy Hurwitz, a Marine Corps staff correspondent, reported. “Two brothers from Gebo, Wyo., met here by accident today just as Marines were about to start a push over one of the heavily fortified Jap-held hills.”

Marine Cpl. Stanley Wedlock had run out of ammunition and turned for help from another ‘Leatherneck’ who was unloading supplies on the beach.

[{"type":"text","text":"“Got any ammunition?” Wedlock asked."}]

When the Marine unloading ammunition turned around, Wedlock discovered it was his younger brother, Pvt. Leland R. Wedlock, whom he had not seen since they enlisted together in August, 1941.

Hurwitz, one of the official correspondents for the 18th Marines

, wrote dozens of human-interest stories from Tarawa, Saipan, Tinian, and later campaigns. 

He was so impressed with this chance encounter that Hurwitz sent a press release and the story 

 the world, including as the first presented on a new Marine program airing on KOA radio in Denver the following Monday.

“It was a rare experience that two Marines from a little town in Wyoming should meet during a battle on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean,” Bolich said.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Young Marines"}]

Their youngest brother, Bob Wedlock, 12, was instrumental in forming the Junior Marines, according to Bolich.

“As patriotic youngsters, we all decided that we would join this group,” Bolich said. “All of the boys in the camp wanted to join.”

Bolich was one of the youngest at age 10 and the other boys who joined he named as Jack Toth, Fritz Jurovich, Joe Bandich, Pete Cavalli, Kenny Halbert, Jack Bretthauer, Buddy Cammock, Jim Hughes, Ken Bolich and Jim Isbell.

“In order to be sworn in, you had to be able to sing the Marines' Hymn,” Bolich said. “Once you did your performance, they would allow you to be a Junior Marine.”

found Navy officer caps in a catalog for about a dollar. The boys all saved money so they would have their ‘uniform dress.’

“They weren’t Marine hats but were Navy officer hats, but we got them and wore them,” Bolich said. “Boy, we were something. We felt like we were helping because people we knew were in the war.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Rubber Gun Rifle"}]

Once accepted as a Junior Marine, the boys were required to build a rubber gun rifle they would hold against their shoulders as they marched.

The boys would draw the outline of a rifle on boards they salvaged from the houses being torn down in Gebo. Sig Nelson, the grocer in Kirby, was also recruited into their wartime efforts. He would bring them wooden boxes from his store specifically for their guns.

“We would take a small axe and chop away a lot of the wood,” Bolich said. “When that was done, we moved on to using a knife to make a nicer finish.”

When the rifle was smooth, the boys would nail a heavy piece of string to the end of the "barrel" of the rifle. Four notches 

carved on the top of part of the barrel. Their ammunitions was from old inner tubes from the inside of car tires. The Junior Marines would then cut pieces out of the rubber about an inch wide.

“One tube gave us enough ammunition for our whole squad,” Bolich said.

To fire their guns, they would place one end of the rubber across the front of the barrel, stretch it backward, and place the band into one of the notches over the string. They could pull up on the string, which released the stretched inner tube.

They used the rubber gun rifles when they played war, and if you were hit by the rubber tube piece, you were out of the fight.

“We drilled regularly in the flat area just north of the town, on the old football field, which was used by the high school before the high school was closed,” Bolich said.

They would pick teams, then head up into the hills behind Gebo Hill for their wars.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Scrap Metal Effort"}]

“Our job was to help the war situation,” Bolich said. “We were really busy.”

Aside from singing the Marines’ Hymn to returning soldiers, waging their own wars in the Gebo hills and playing basketball, the Junior Marines were salvaging iron.

“The county was directing a scrap iron drive for the war, so we, as Junior Marines, worked hard to do whatever we could to help,” Bolich said. “We always got together, and our job was to help the war effort. We went up to the mine in Gebo and started hauling stuff away.”

They got spikes out of the railroad, and would haul a rail over to the vacant lot where the old basketball gym used to be to pile up the scrap metal. Once a month, a big truck would come to Gebo to gather it all.

“Since Gebo was being dismantled as a coal mining town, there were lots of items left that people did not take with them,” Bolich said. “We went into abandoned houses, collected whatever metal was left there.”

[{"type":"text","text":"They also got the privilege of legally breaking windows."}]

“We were always aware of any house that was being torn down and obtained permission to get rocks and throw them to break windows,” Bolich said. “We would line up like baseball pitchers do and see who had the most accurate arm.”

[{"type":"text","text":"Bolich said Pete Cavalli had the best pitching arm of the Junior Marines."}]

“Since the mine was no longer working, we were very efficient in picking up pieces of metal there,” Bolich said.  

[{"type":"text","text":"They would all pitch in to carry a rail and made it a military endeavor."}]

“When we all were in position, someone would call out, ‘lift' and we would lift the rail altogether and then wait for the 'forward march, hut, hut, hut' orders,” Bolich said. “We would all march in step to take the rail to the metal stockpile. I often wonder if some Gebo people saw us and just laughed.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Proud To Be Junior Marine"}]

Bolich recalled trying to get the wheel off an ore car and being chased off by a worker who was on the tipple.

"You get the hell out of there — we use those wheels," the worker yelled. “Leave that alone!”

Bolich said he took his wagon and hurried home with what little scrap he was able to salvag

His time as a Junior Marine soon came to an end, despite the war still being fought. Bolich’s own family moved into Thermopolis when he was in the fifth grade. Despite no longer being in the Junior Marines, Bolich said their wartime efforts continued.

“When we left Gebo, my brother got a job because so many men were in the Army, Navy or Marines,” Bolich said. “Ken started washing dishes at the Manhattan Café and I shined shoes for Steve Ely because it was hard to buy shoes.

“Leather went to the military, so Steve would repair the shoes, and I would shine them up. I got a dollar a day.”

As Bolich looked back at his childhood war efforts, he said that he was proud to be a Junior Marine. He would still sing the Marines' Hymn, no matter which branch the soldier

Gebo and young marines inset 7 26 26

<title>Wyoming History: How Gebo’s Gung-Ho Junior Marines Served During World War II | Cowboy State Daily</title>

In the dying coal town of Gebo during World War II, the patriotic Junior Marines were gung-ho in their wartime efforts of gathering scrap iron, marching and singing. They were inspired by the Wedlock brothers, two teens who left Gebo to fight the war.

Wyoming History: How Gebo’s Gung-Ho Junior Marines Served During World War II

Kolby fedore

Kolby Fedore

CASPER — By the time Rick Knigge died last September, he had spent decades turning 20 acres outside the city into a gearhead's paradise.

He had Camaros and Chevelles. Prewar Ford hot rods. Corvettes. A 426 Hemi-powered Plymouth GTX. Monster trucks. Speed boats. Race engines. Shipping containers packed with parts.

[{"type":"text","text":"If it was loud, fast or had the potential to be, Knigge wanted it."}]

The Casper-area oil field worker spent a lifetime hauling home muscle cars, hot rods, vintage trucks, race engines and enough performance parts to fill shelves, sea cans and storage units. 

Nearly every evening after work ended the same way: he'd settle into his chair and spend an hour combing through classifieds, searching for the next great find.

"He was obsessed with it," his wife, Stephanie Knigge, told Cowboy State Daily. "That was probably an hour process every night, just going through all the ads to see if there was anything he was missing out on." 

When Knigge died unexpectedly at 65 on Sept. 10, 2025, he left behind more than memories.

By the time Rick Knigge died last September, he had spent decades turning 20 acres outside Casper into a gearhead's paradise. The oilfield worker spent a lifetime hauling home muscle cars, hot rods and vintage trucks. Now they are all finding new homes.

Doris Mae Redjou, 97