t, at first, appear at all delighted with the
visit. In a short time, however, I had gained entire control of the
man, and he became like wax in my hands. He made a full confession of
the robbery, and declared his readiness to become a witness for the
prosecution. Having accomplished my purpose, I announced to the
officers of the State my readiness to proceed to trial, and my
sanguine hopes of a full conviction of the parties implicated.

The trial took place shortly afterwards in Danbury, and I do not
remember ever to have seen a more gentlemanly-looking array of
prisoners before a bar of justice.

They were all dressed in the most exquisite style, and deported
themselves in a manner far from what would ordinarily be expected
from men engaged in professional criminal pursuits.

During the trial the Court House was thronged by the fair sex of
Danbury, whose sympathetic hearts were profoundly touched at the
sight of these gentlemanly-appearing rascals. The attendance was
further augmented by the appearance of many of their friends, both
male and female, who came from New York to witness the proceedings
and offer their loving consolations to the unfortunates.

The alarm of these sympathetic friends reached a culminating point
when the prosecuting attorney arose in his place and announced that
he would place upon the stand one of the principals in the robbery,
who would unfold the plot and its successful execution. Each prisoner
looked at the other, and angry, suspicious glances flashed from the
eyes of them all. Threats were whispered audibly among their friends,
but no demonstration took place, and the silence in the court-room
became painfully oppressive as the State's attorney, after finishing
his address to the jury, called the name of Thomas Clark.

The prisoner took the stand, and, unabashed by the angry glances that
were directed towards him, he told the story of the robbery in a
plain, straightforward manner, that carried conviction to the minds
of both judge and jury.

The testimony which he gave was as follows:

"My connection with this robbery commenced on or about the 20th of
December last (1865), at which time I met Martin Allen at a saloon in
New York City. It was on that occasion that he told me that his
brother-in-law, James Wells, who resided in Brooklyn, had an
acquaintance named Gilly McGloyn, and that Gilly had a brother-in-law
named Grady, who was a brakeman on the express train of the New Yor