New-York tribune., 1921-03-20
After Thirty Years Of Successful Ban
dity Henry Starr Is Fatally
Woundedin Bank Hold-Up

their weak spots. Along
with the rest, Henry Starr had his.
He had secret ambition. And in
the end it got him.
For more than thirty years he had
perfectly spotless reputation as an
outlaw, maintaining schedule of
daylight bank robberies that was
the envy of every two-gun man west
Of the Mississippi. His speciality
was to come tearing into town at
high noon, park his pony out in front
of the leading bank and not leave
the place until he had gunnysack
fairly we'll filled with loot.
Any Honest Robbery
He wasn't snobbish about it. He
would tackle railroad train or
station or plain general store. Of
course, he preferred banks; but to
keep the old pot boiling he would
step into anything that looked thrill
ing.
Yes, Henry Starr was considerable
outlaw. His average yearly haul
netted a very decent income-noth-
ing enormous, but steady. He did
his turns in the penitentiary with "a
smile and took his pardons with the
proverbial tear. Three times he re-
formed just for the dramatic effect
on his hackers. He killed man
once and nearly hung for it.
While most of the other outlaws
the James boys, the Youngers and
AL Jennings-were dying off or turn
ing soft, Henry Starr was still doing
business with price on his head
dead or alive.
He should have been content, but
he wasn't. The secret ambition kept
troubling him. He yearned to be
up to date. He felt that he was old
fashioned, riding pony and shoot
ing from the hip. He had read the
Eastern newspapers and knew he
was way behind the times.
The Secret Ambition
He wanted to come gliding into
town in the latest model streamline
limousine, roll up to the bank in
style and walk in slowly enough so
the natives could notice he was
wearing silk shirt and spats per-
haps. Then, when he had finished
his little business in the bank and
had the officials locked in the Gus
tomary vault, he could walk non
chalantly out, step in his car and
ride out of town as any gentleman
should.
They were getting away with it
in Paterson, N. j., and Brooklyn,
N. Y, and Henry Starr didn't see
why he couldn't do the same thing
in Arkansas and Oklahoma. 1t may
have been foolish ambition, but
that was the way Henry Starr
looked at things. After thirty years
of being a Western bad man he
wanted one round as motor bandit.
He had his one round at the
luxurious trade and it cost him his
life, but he died--as the old phrase
has it-with his boots on, and he
died happy. For few hours he had
been a motor bandit.
Less than a month ago, into the
sleepy little Ozark town Of Harri-
son, Ark, there ratified mud-be-
spattered little fiivver. Besides the
driver there were three men, all
wearing masks and armed to the
teeth. If any one saw the same
sight here in the East he would turn
to look for the camera man follow
ing in the next car. But there
wasn't any camera man in this case.
With Engine Racing
The car drew up to the curb in
front of the Peoples National Bank
Of Harrison. Three men hoped out
and sauntered into the bank. The
driver stayed at the wheel, the
motor throbbing violently as though
It were eager to be off again.
Inside the bank the three masked
men had complete charge of the
situation. With six guns waving in
the air, there was no offer of re.
slstance. The few startled custom.
ers were backed against the wall
the bank officials crowded around
the door Of the big vault.
Get back there!" yelled the lead
ing bandit, and the crowd obeyed.
Cringing way in the back part o,
the vault, w. J. Meyers, a forme,
president of the bank, felt some
thing hard sticking into his back. H,
turned and saw an old rife that ht
had left there ten years before, pro
viding for just such an emergency
Cautiously he crept toward the door