Sharing Manitoba s
Deadly Bank Bandits

Possessed of Hypnotic Grey Eyes and a Strange Ability to Influence His
Captors, Jack Krefchenko, Winnipeg’s Masked Bandit, Talked His Way Out
of the Death Cell—Recaptured After a Long and Difficult Search, Authorities
Were Forced to Shackle Him in the Dock When It Was Learned He Was Again
Bringing His Mesmeric Influence to Bear Upon His Gaolers—Judge Receives
“Black-Hand” Letter as Friends Plot His Armed Release on Eve of Execution.

A COPPERY SUN shone bleakly upon the
prairie town of Plum Coulee. This day,
December, 1913, was ene of the mildest
Manitoba had experienced that winter. So
far not the slightest film of snow blanketed
the russet hills that
rolled towards the
long unbroken hori-
Zon.

In his teller’s cage
within the frame
Bank of Montreal
Building, Lloyd
Wagner gazed idly
through the window.
Suddenly he stiff-
ened as a_ strange
sight caught his at-
tention. Pressed
closely against the
window was a hu
man face. A flowing
black beard covered
the mouth and chin

J. H. Arnold, manager
of the Bank of Mont-

real at Plum Coulee,

whose murder led to but what startled
one of the most dra- him were the merci-
matic manhunts in the less blue eyes, keen,

annals of Manitoba. penetrating and full

of menace.

“Quick, Arnold!” He turned swiftly to
the manager. “There’s a fellow out there
with a false beard. He’s looking through
the window.”

Impulsively he leapt the counter and
darted through the door with Arnold at
his heels. In vain they circled the building.
Not a sign of the bearded stranger with the
menacing eyes was anywhere to be seen!
As they returned Arnold looked at the clock
and laughted good-naturedly. “It’s 12.15,”
he said, “better fix up Mr. Gevertz here and
have a bite of lunch. You're kind of nervous
this morning.”

The heavy bull-necked man who stood at
the wicket with a sheaf of checks in his
hand was Lon Gevertz, owner of the
Gevertz livery and garage. Passing the
checks through the wicket he pocketed the
cash and hurried out with Wagner at his
heels. As the teller disappeared through
the door Jack Arnold looked up from his
ledger to attend to the wants of a Men-
nonite woman who was experiencing con-

TWELFTH EDITION

siderable difficulty in putting her thoughts
into English. Hardly had the woman de-
parted than a shadow darkened the doorway.
Turning to attend to the new customer
Arnold gave a start of surprise to find him-
self facing the bearded stranger Wagner
had spoken of.

“Quick!” rasped a steely voice, “Stick
‘em up and make it snappy!” The blue
snout of an automatic prodded the banker’s
chest. Slowly he raised his hands and
watched while the bearded man rifled the
safe of bulky packages of currency.

Then, almost as swiftly as he’d appeared,
the bandit flourished his automatic and dis-
appeared into the street. The whole amaz-
ing robbery had happened with a celerity
that was breath-taking.

Vaulting the counter Arnold plunged
through the door in hot pursuit. “Help!”
he shouted as he raced down the side street
the tall figure right ahead. “The bank’s
been robbed!”

Sweeping around the corner they thudded
across an open lot. A bundle slipped from
the arms of the man ahead. When he
stooped to retrieve it Arnold threw himself
upon him. A staccato explosion rent the
air as the bandit fired, causing Arnold to
collapse in a crumpled heap. Snatching up
the bundle of banknotes the bandit disap-
peared running like an antelope west along
the lane.

Aroused by a frightened voice shouting
that the bank had been robbed, - Wagner
ran down the steps of the hotel and headed
for the building, his feet clattering on the
frozen sidewalk. Dashing through the gap-
ing door of the bank he found the place
empty and in a state of utter confusion.
The door of the safe gaped open—every
drawer had been ransacked!

The two loaded bank revolvers hung un-
touched in their accustomed places. Seizing
the nearest, Wagner commenced to circle
the block. Half-way across the open lot,
his steps were suddenly arrested. Face down
upon an ash-pile lay the crumpled form of
Arnold. With trembling hands he turned
the body over, looking into the greying face
and noticing with horror the widening stain
on the vest.

Horrified by his first contact with violent

By
PHILIP H. GODSELL

F.R.G.S.

Author of “Arctic Trader’.
Fur Trader, Arctic Traveller and former
Inspecting Officer for the Hudson's Bay
Company.

*

death, Wagner sprang to his feet and raced
to the depot. White-faced he burst in on
Ole Lee, the agent.

“Arnold’s been murdered!” he cried.
“Quick! Wire Constable McKay at
Morden.”

Already Plum Coulee was buzzing with
fear and excitement. Angry, granite-faced
men in sheepskin coats and overalls were
running from store to store spreading the
unbelievable story that murder had struck
out of a clear mid-day sky. From the con-

ee ee,
iy :
4

er SE

Where Krefchenko was finally run to earth and
exchanged a second hiding place for the
death-cell.

fusion there emerged at last a few coherent
explanations concerning the sudden tragedy.

In broken English a Mennonite farmer
told of peering through the bank window at
12.30 and seeing Arnold with upraised
arms talking to a bearded stranger. Think-
ing it was a signal that the bank was closed
he'd gone towards the hotel, turned on
hearing cries and seen Arnold pursuing a
tall, black-coated man. From his house

Page Twenty-seven