End of a Trail

It was 6:00 a.m. and Justice of the Peace Harvey was out sweeping the sidewalk in front of his office. Naturally he noticed when a car roared up and stopped just across the street at the post office. The post office belongs to Nell Tingley. She rents it for $11.75 a month to the Government and lives in the two rooms over it. A nice woman, from Virginia, but everyone knew her husband was Roy ("Pete") Traxler, one of the convicts who escaped from a Texas prison farm on July 8, who later kidnapped Baird H. Markham Jr., Yale junior (son of a New York oil executive), held him for a day and kept his car.

All of Verden, Okla., 587 strong, had expected Pete's arrival ever since Saturday when a bill collector called on Nell and she brought a big roll of bills out of her purse. About half the town was in the street when Pete and his fellow-convict, Frank Tindol, arrived, but they all retired gracefully feeling that Pete and his wife would rather be alone.

Soon Nell came down with bags and her two dogs, Sweetpea and June. Then every-one knew she was planning to leave for good. The car roared off and stopped at Mars Turner's filling station at the edge of town. Pete Traxler was sitting in the driver's seat with two revolvers and Tindol was in back with two revolvers and a 30-30 Winchester. Just then Frank Dorris the town marshal drove by and Nell said, "There's the Law. You'd better duck." Pete, who acted drunk, roared with laughter and Mars Turner had a bad moment. But Marshal Dorris looked the other way and drove straight to Chickasha to get help. To Mars Turner's surprise, they paid him. He said, "Thank you. Come again."

It was a good deal grimmer that night down near the Texas border when a fusillade of bullets raked the Traxler car. As officers came up they found Nell sitting in it, fainted dead away with Sweetpea and June in her lap. All night 500 officers with bloodhounds searched the Washita River bottoms. Sometime near dawn Traxler and Tindol routed out James E. Denton, a frail middle-aged oil pumper and took him and his car. Later in the morning after driving through Caddo, they seized a farmer, Fred Trimmer, and changed cars. They had several close calls driving through towns, and going through a detour where a road gang was working.

Towards evening they pulled up on a deserted country road a few miles north-west of Boswell, Okla. and decided to wait for dark. Farmer Trimmer, a silent man, was-still at the wheel, with Pete Traxler beside him, a gun in his lap. Behind Trimmer sat Tindol also with a gun and across the seat sat graying little James Denton--whose middle name was Ethel because his parents hoped for a girl-- wondering what his wife and three children would do if the badmen decided to kill him when dark came. Traxler and Tindol, who had been living on liquor and were dog tired, were sort of dozing. Suddenly Denton winked at Trimmer. Then he grabbed the gun in Tindol's lap and shot. Then he shot Traxler. Tindol reached for his rifle and Denton shot him again.

Tindol was dead but Traxler fell out of the car moaning. "Why did you shoot me"? he asked. Said Denton, "I asked you three or four times to let us go. You said you needed us in your business. This was some of my business."

When Mrs. Denton was told she could not believe it. Said she, "It's the first time James has ever been in any kind of fuss."

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