The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1899-05-28
DOYLE'S LIFE IN JAIL
Colorado Millionaire Imprisoned
for Contempt of Court.
FARES LIKE A PRINCE
Table Set With Cut Glassware and Fin
est Llnen-Wears Dress Suit at
Dinner and Has a Bathroom
in His Cell.

James Doyle, the millionaire mine
owner. the discoverer of the Portland
gold mine of Cripple Creek, which has
already made the fortunes of half
dozen lucky prospectors presses his
face against the bars of his cell in the
Ell Paso county. Col, Jail, and looks
out upon the old toll road that leads
up Cheyenne mountain.
Why" he says, that's the road
that took me to wealth. Stratton and
Burns and Stronger the Strong mine,
you know-and I walked to Cripple
and we threw in our chances with the
rest. Let's see-that was in 1891 Dec,
&c."
creaking buggy drives down the
avenue and stops in front of the win
dow. The two occupants, in SLOUGH
hats and rough corduroy, wave their
hands at the millionaire, who is en-
during Imprisonment for the sake of
principle, and Jimmy Doyle, once may
or of Victor and the possessor of a
fortune that could buy the Jail, the
court house, and a big slice of Color
ado Springs, assures them through the
iron secured aperture that he is all
right and gaining flesh every day.
And I'll stay in here" he exclaims,
until l win my case. ] won't back
down when I'm in the right for any
judge"
The story of Doyle, and his contempt
of court, is the strangest case on rec
ord in the annals of mining litigation
in Colorado. On Jan. he began his
imprisonment for refusing to turn over
to his former companions of the pros
tnJ.'c tot tlo It'd ], Io ~,
tanned. They claim that he agreed to
throw in his holding in the great Port
land group to the Portland Gold Mining
company, and to share equally in the
corporation. Doyle claims that he
agreed to exchange his claims for 250.
900 shares of Portland treasury stock,
and over that the litigation hinges.
Portland stock was then and now is
worth 50 a share. There were many
legal twists in the case, which was tried
in Iowa. where the Portland company
is incorporated, but the upshot was a
verdict in favor of Doyle for $T17,000.
Then Burns and his partners applied
to Judge Lunt of Colorado Springs for
relief, and the judge ordered Doyle to
relinquish the judgment of the Iowa
court. Doyle refused, and was sent
to Jail for contempt. No one believed
that he would stay there, yet there he
has remained. Judge Lunt has since
resigned, but the contempt still con-
tinues. Doyle's lawyers claim that he
had no legal justification in ordering
a man to relinquish a judgment OBJ
tanned by a court of equal authority in
another state.
In the meantime this stubborn mil
lionaire is living over the past. building
castles for the future and dreaming,
with his face pressed against the bars,
of the dusty toll road that took him
n a ms nd ri ph if,n nm mir o.
ulously like the tale of Aladdin. He
is still young man, on the sunny side
of 40, without a gray strand in his
mass of dark brown hair or a line on
his face. He is married. too, and his
wife lives in their home in Denver.
Life is not hard with this million
aire in prison. He orders his meals
from the Alamo hotel over the tele-
phone, is measured by his tailors, and
sits in his apartment a the Jail with
blue tinted envelopes redolent of the
violet fragrance of miladys boudoir.
carelessly flung on the rough, blanket
covered table before him. Magazines
and newspapers are scattered all around
and much despatched blottng pad
attests his large correspondence. He is
never allowed outside of the jail pre-
cincts, Jailer John Lay taking good
care of him, although Doyle is per-
mitted unusual privileges behind the
steel doors and heavily barred windows.
Like Downward, who wore away the
stones in the Chateau de Chillon, Doyle
has made friends with the birds, which
he feeds with crumbs on his window
sill and the school children, who all
know him, and nod compassionately.
His life behind the bars is interest
ing. His meals alone cost him $95 a
month. The Alamo hotel is only two
blocks away and one waiter, a bright
colored lad, has been detailed to serve
him. He does not eat with the other
Is occupants of the Jail, but the table
is spread in his room. or cell; some
times friend partakes of a meal with
him. The table is set with cut glass
and the finest china of the Alamo.
Doyle arises in the morning between
Z and s o'clock and after a bath-for
an unpretentious bath and toilet room
has been built in his cell--walks down
the winding steel stairs to the office,
where he calls up the Alamo and orders
his breakfast.
Everybody in Colorado Springs and
the Cripple Creek district knows the
mine owner, and sometimes as many
as 80 or 40 people call day. The tour
lists who already are beginning to ar
rive from the East are particularly in
terested, and hardly a day passes but
Doyle is kodaked or interviewed by
young men and women. The jailer is
very hlHl- anu IL buyle ueSlTeS 10 SEE
any one he is ushered into the office.
His knowledge of current events is re-
markable and some of the deductions
he makes evidence much thoughtful
study of present conditions, both finan-
cia1 and industrial.
At 1910 o'clock his luncheon is
brought to him. Dinner is served at
SIS o'clock.
AS soon as the meal is over Doyle
goes to the window and watches the
toll road fade into the shadows of the
night. If there is any one with him
he will tell of the dusty day in Decem-
Der. eight years ago. when he tramp
ed 80 miles to Cripple Creek to prove
for himself that a new camp had been
found Yet he is not unhappy.
Lonely" he repeats. Il haven't
been lonely since | came here. 1t
isn't so hard as one would ina CINE"
His cell is on the third floor and COM
mands a wide view of the outskirts
of Colorado Springs to Cheyenne noun
tain, celebrated because of the pyramid
of stones marking the grave of Helen
A of he