Though nothing suspicious had been seen yet, tragedy was in the making. The days of the quick shooting western bad man were not over.

At noon, on June 29th, just one week after the holdup, Government Agent W. J. Christie of Ashcroft was warned to be on the lookout for three men who were said to be descending the North Thompson River in a flat bottom boat. It had been reported that three men had been seen in a boat near Pennys. Chief Constable Joe Burr of Ashcroft had set out at once with a posse of hard riding men. The only officer left in Ashcroft was Isaac Decker.

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Decker, a special constable, sworn in for the occasion, was on watch at a bridge across the North Thompson River, which connected Ashcroft with the Cariboo Trail. His eyes were fixed on the fast current in the swollen river. He remarked to a by- stander that if the men in the boat didn’t

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Page Fifty-four

know that river they would never live to be captured, or even questioned. They would be caught in the whirlpool where the river roared through a canyon and their boat would be dashed to pieces. In the light of later events it is to be regretted that Decker didn’t let the boat proceed.

At 6 o'clock, Decker went for supper. The banks of the river were now lined with 30 or 40 people, young and old, all enjoying the coolness of the evening breeze or fishing for trout. James Mains, a hardware mer- chant was fishing with a friend when he saw a boat swing into view. He knew nothing of what had happened, or that the boat was even being sought, so he called a greeting.

“It’s a fine evening,” he shouted.

Then he saw that there were two men in the boat. They didn’t answer. One was seated at the stern and the other was row- ing. The man at the stern had his head lowered as if seeking to conceal his fea- tures.

Further down stream some little girls were playing on the shore. One of them called to the men in the boat and asked them where they were going.

“For a row. Will you come?” the man in the stern said.

“No,” the little girl replied. A few minutes later, the boat passed from their sight on the swift current.

DETECTIVES BAFFLED

Despite the most intense investigation during which thousands of people through- out the Kamlops area were questioned, the investigators had failed to uncover a single clue with which to identify the robbers. Not a single person could even faintly describe them.

American railroad detectives, experts in train holdups and with a thorough know- ledge of the men on their side of the line who followed this business, were baffled. There had been several successful train rob- beries along the Pacific coast and it was thought possible that the ones responsible for them had also taken part in this. But they too had been unable to find a lead.

“We're satisfied that it wasn’t Bill Miner,” a Great Northern man said. “It couldn’t be Harvey Logan or Butch Cassi- day either. That kind of leaves it up to the Haneys.”

Photographs of the Haney brothers were shown to the train crew. One and all shook their heads.

“Couldn't see who it was. They were hidden behind masks,” was the inevitable reply.

“We'll have some copies run off and dis- tributed around the country,” the police decided. “Maybe somebody will identify them. Once we know who they are our work will be made easier.”

It was just about the time that the copies were being made when Isaac Decker re- turned to the banks of the North Thomp- son to take up his vigil once more.

Decker, attired in plain clothes, and with a 30-30 rifle under his arm, was on the sloping bank midway between the railroad

track and the water's edge when he saw a small boat sweep around the bend. It was evidently in difficulties in the now quicken- ing current. The oarsman was struggling to swing it towards the Ashcroft side of the river but it was caught in an eddy and sent back to the other side of the river. Then, like a flash, it was caught in another eddy and sent across to the Ashcroft side a few yards from where Decker stood with a man named Woodward. The man at the oars was trying desperately to get his craft back to midstream but it was slowly coming ashore.

“Woodward, you go and hail them. If they answer you ask them who they are. If they don’t, they’re the bandits. Ill keep you covered.”

Woodward demurred on the grounds that he was unarmed and that if they were the bandits they might open fire on him and he would be at their mercy.

‘Just ask them to come ashore. If they refuse, I'll fire on them,” Decker said.

Woodward refused.

“All right,” Decker returned. “I don't blame you. This is my job. I'll hail them and if anything happens, you get back and give the alarm.”

Decker carried his rifle in his left hand. He trotted along the boulder strewn shore until he was even with the boat.

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