White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1932-02-04
|sTAGE COACH
! TALES
by E. C.. TAYLOR
The Bandits Nemesis

JAMES CURRY was the most noted
y of all the stage coach drivers on
the old Baraboo-Kilbourn line when
Wisconsin was little more than will
derness and the roads were quagmires
and rough, rocky trails through the
forests.
Tall and fearless, Curry's word was
law along the stage line, and his fear
lessness and the respect in which the
new inhabitants of the country held
him proved the undoing of one of the
NEST desperate bandits and gunner in
the old Northwest.
Curry's stretch of the road was
miles of sandy trail north of Baraboo.
He drove coaches over this route from
1860 until the Chicago & North West
ern railroad extended it's line from
Kilbourn to Baraboo in 1871. During
the last nine years of this period he
owned the stage coach line, but con-
tinued to drive through the bad" seq
tion.
In the late COS the entire country
side lived in fear of Pat Wildrick, one
of the most noted bandits in the his
tory of the American frontier. Pat
was leader of band of lawless men
who stopped to any crime to do his
bidding.
Baraboo was already thriving COM
munity, and the railroad line ran to
Kilbourn. Curry's stage coach line
made it's chief revenue by carrying
money from the railhead at Kilbourn
to towns along the route, but princi-
pally to the bank at Baraboo. The
people trusted Curry so greatly that
they never thought of having their
packages of money insured, and many
a farmer or housewife would turn
money over to him after stopping his
coach along the road, and have him
pay their bills, or buy things for them
at Kilbourn or Baraboo.
Curry received so cents for each
$1,000 cash he transported across the
country. One night he was handed
$4,000 to be carried to the Terrell
Thomas bank at Baraboo. Just as he
was leaving two strangers crawled in
to the stage coach, sat in the rear
seats and conversed in whispers.
AS the stage crossed the river and
entered a section thick with pine
woods, the two strangers continued to
talk in low tones.
Curry recalled that Pat Wildrick
and his gang some time before had at
tackled S. s. Gates and his wife near
the same spot, and while the authori-
ties were hunting Pat, a pal of the
bandit chief had murdered Gates at
this same spot on the road.
Curry whipped up his horses, fully
convinced that besides the $4,000 in
cash he was carrying two of Pats
bandit gang. He expected to be at
tackled at any moment.
Arriving at Baraboo, Curry breathed
a sigh of relief. There he learned
that the two strangers were law-abid-.
ing persons, who talked low as a mat
ter of habit.
The entire countryside was uneasy
when Pat was at large, and Curry was
constantly on the lookout for the
bandit.
Pat once escaped from the Baraboo
Jail, and posses searched the woods
for miles around for him. AS Curry
drove his stage coach peacefully along
the road near Oschner park, he spied
the bandit leader hiding in the woods.
He drove along for a short distance
as though nothing unusual happened.
until he met some of the posse. He
called to them, and led them back to
Pats hiding place. The bandit was
speedily 'recaptured. AS Pat was hur-
ried back to the Baraboo Jail, he
shouted to Curry:
young man, I'll see you later"
The Irish bandit had habit OF
keeping his word, and Curry and all
Of Baraboo knew what he meant by
saying he would ''see him later"
Curry was wary thereafter, but the
Irish bandit mustfhave realized that
it would be dangerous for him to at
tack the stage coach driver, as Curry
was well guarded constantly from the
day of the threat by friends who liked
the driver. At any rate, Curry was
the one man in the whole countryside
whom Pat did not dare raise hand
against.
Pats career ended soon after that,
at the end of rope in the hands of
mob at Portage, Wis.
TO- 1881 Western Newspaper Union,