The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1893-10-21

Perhaps the most important inmate of
the Portland jail at this time is a colored
man who may be said to represent Aroos-
took county there. He is Dunk" Morri-
son, long wanted, and at last secured,
but not without giving the officers good
deal of TT ouble extending over at least
two years.
Dunk" Morrison, is a colored man
with a record, and history that
makes him an interesting character in
more than one respect. According to
| the traditions of the border, and what
he told Deputy Marshal McNally, while
on his way here, he formerly lived in the
South, and while there was arrested on
a charge of murder, He said he was
concerned in one of the numberless race
troubles there, during which three white
men were killed. He was in for eighty
! days, and was then allowed to go. Had
| the trouble existed within the past year
or so, this would never have been writ
| ten, for Dunk" Morrison would have
received a more or less extended notice in
connection with the scenes attending his
last hours. That experience satisfied
Morrison that the South was not for
| him, and so instead of taking the North
| star for guide, he bought a ticket, and
at last drifted to the border between the
| United States and Canada, where in due
time he became rather famous. Tt is
alleged that he has been liquor dealer,
I q n
and as'such the deputy marshals have
earnestly sought for him.
| But Dunk" Morrison was not born
yesterday, and the border was more to
his liking than the Jail at Portland. He
many times said that he would never be
arrested, and would probably about as
soon have been shot as brought here at
all Living on the border, grown familiar
with every road, and almost every house,
it was no easy thing to capture him. He
could be traced, for he would attract at
tention anywhere. but was not easy to
| find.
There are many on the border who
would not look upon liquor selling or
smuggling as crime. and, perhaps, he
was not without his friends who con-
veyed inform alton to him of the move
ments of the officers.
| But as time went on, and he made
many brief excursions over into Canada
to escape the officers, Dunk" Morrison
| grew reckless, and allowed himself to de-
part from his regular and reasonably safe
programme of keeping close by the border.
Deputy Marshal McNally saw his chance,
and started for Caribou, where he was
| informed that Morrison was in the habit
| of visiting. He found the nest warm
as it were, but the bird had gone. It was
at Presque Isle, but Mr.. McNally, who
has had great deal of experience on
| the border thought he was far more like
| ly to head for Fort Fairfield.
Morrison made one bad blunder. He
knew that he had the lead of the mar
/ shall, but he forgot the telephone In the
hotel at Caribou, Mr.. McNally communi-
Gated with Fort Fairfield, and with Ed
| Dorsey. Now Ed. Dorsey is a constable, a
| good man, but not used to dealing with
a desperate man, as Morrison is alleged
| to be. Mr.. Mentally instructed him to
arrest Morrison and to hold him. "Give
me his description" said Dorsey, and
Mentally replied, If you see a colored
1 man who looks and acts like a big black
| bear arrest him. It may be said with
due respect to Morrison that the descrip-
tion was close enough to have led to- his
identification, and in fact did in this
case, for in short time Dorsey tele-
phoned to Mr.. McNalIy, "I've got your
bear"
Hold him. replied Mentally.
@How long?"
aUntil I get there. For about an
hour"
"What have you got against him?"
"No matter, hold him."
McNally acted promptly He
was more than ten miles off, and had no
team, but hustled around, got horse,
and in little over an hour was at Fort
Fairfield, and Morrison was his prisoner.
But that was only the beginning of his
troubles. "Dunkn Morrison had said that
he never would be taken to Portland
/
say, and did say, "McNally you'll never
be able to take that holy terror there
alone" McNally, however, thought he
| should, and so he and the aforesaid terror
left in company, Morrison ironed and
growing"
The prisoner was full of fight, and Mr..
McNally soon found whatssa contract sshe
had on his hands, 1t was a constant
struggle, and the officer was not given
rest for an instant At Bridgewater,
when asked if he wanted supper, Morri-
son said he did not, and fatty refused to
go to the dining room. McNally settled
that point by ordering him in. "You
can't make me- eat" said Morrison. "No,"
replied McNally, but I'll make you
watch others if you won't eat yourself"
At last the prisoner concluded to take
some supper, ard Mr.. McNally was forced
to cut his meat for him, being obliged to
| keen one hand ironed. Morrison grew
savage and made scene, at last saying,
"Shoot, if you want to, don't care"