We are in the final stages of preparation for the release of a new novel, 'Dem Dry Bon'z, a sequel to our 2015 release 'Dem Bon'z.  The story lines for both books include historical information on such famous murder sprees as the Whitechapel Murders, the Thames Torso Murders, the Kingsbury Run Murders, the Columbian Exposition Murders, and the Austin Servant Assassinations.  We've been able to bring a number of the more infamous fiends from the Victorian Era , such as Jack the Ripper, Dr. Sweeney, Dr. H.H. Holmes, and the Midnight Assassin into our tales.

Below is a story that was all-too-common in the period.  A murderer could  do their evil deed, purchase a common trunk for very little money, and pack their victim off to the nearest railroad or freight depot.  The killer had only to provide a false addressee and address and they could be assured that, unless the trunk was dropped and opened it might be many months before the body was discovered.  In this example the trunk was mailed from Chicago to Pittsburg in early 1885.  Coincidently this is the period before Dr. H. H. Holmes (formerly H.W. Mudgettt and having many aliases), perhaps the most prolific serial killer of the period established his practice in Chicago.  A recent graduate of the University of Michigan Medical School, he had been discharged because he engaged in insurance fraud and used some of the cadavers from the medical school for his extracurricular activities.  He formally settled in Chicago in 1886 but clearly was wandering about the area in early 1885.  One of his favorite tricks was to employ the freight system to ship remains all over the world.  He was quite clever in this and often had his employees post the trunks, assuring that he could not be identified.  Without the complex tracking systems, dna analysis, and even the requirement for a return address this was an almost foolproof way to discard of a victim.  Trunks might languish in warehouses for years, or until they smelled sufficiently to draw attention.  Was this one of Holmes' early victims?  Who knows?  As a surgeon, Holmes most likely would have thought little of cutting up the corpse to make it fit into the trunk instead of tying it into a tight bundle.   Holmes was thought to have killed as many as 200 people, though one of his confessions only admits to 27.  Holmes later denied writing his autobiography and on the gallows claimed to be innocent of deliberately killing anyone but allowing for two killings through medical malpractice.

The Western Writers' Association is holding its annual convention this year in Cheyenne, Wyoming.  What a great chance to come and meet your favorite western writers.  Pulp History's own Terry Del Bene will be participating on a panel related to freighting in the West.  As a teaser for that event we'll, be publishing a few fun stories about the topic here.  We hope to see you all in Cheyenne.  You can find out more about the conference at http://westernwriters.org.

Today's offering is from John S. Collins My Experiences in the West.  John was the sutler at Fort Laramie, starting during the Grant Administration in 1876.  His recollections are a treasure trove of information about life at one of the most important rest stops on the overland trail system, Fort Laramie.

John describes how that once the military had swept the trail clear of the conflicts with Native American tribes that the truism that "nature abhors a vacuum," gave another demonstration of its validity.  Suddenly the trails became infested with highwaymen.  The meager law enforcement resources available did their best to end this scourge, but it was like sweeping fleas out of the barnyard.  There were always plenty left.  John relates an interesting account of an unnamed U.S. Marshall stationed in Cheyenne.  This marshall determined to end the robbing of the U.S. mails that had become common on the route between Cheyenne and Fort Laramie.  "Armed with a new Colt's revolver, an abundance of ammunition, and a few threats that he would put a stop to these high-handed outrages, he took passage on the state from Cheyenne, arriving at Fort Laramie the next day."

The marshall snooped around Fort Laramie for a few of days apparently making a bit of a pest of himself.  John's impression was that the marshal's visit was a waste of time as he was, "asking no advice and heeding no suggestions from either the officers at the post, managers of the stage line who suffered more from the robbing of passengers and treasury carried by them than did the dozens of freight and emigrant wagons..."    The disappointed and clearly unenlightened law officer then boarded a stage to return to Cheyenne.  It is here John picks up the narrative again, "Three miles out was a small being station with one of the state company men in charge of a stable built of log slabs and any lumber that could be had, a corral, and a hay yard.  Before the stage reached this station the driver called out his usual salute to the stock tender.  There was no answer but as it was before daylight he concluded the stock tender was asleep.  Just before reaching the station one of a gang of robbers stopped the coach and ordered the driver to, 'hold that team of Jack Rabbits' (six small gray mules) or there would be trouble for him.  A second robber held a revolver on the Marshal and the passengers in the coach and after taking the Marshal's revolver and overcoat away from him, told him to shell out his watch and loose change 'd____d quick,' which the Marshal proceeded to do without remonstrance.  All of this was complete in a brief space of time and the driver was ordered to 'move on and not look back.'"

The marshal finally learned a little something about highwaymen, but not in the way he had anticipated.

Watch yourself as you travel to Cheyenne,