Chapter 21 - Then a discovery at the Klondike Mine

Probes in the Brahs and Duncan Mines revealed nothing. The investigators moved to the Klondike Mine and using well-digging equipment hit something just 5-feet below the surface.

A heavy metal box. Inside? Just two Double Eagle gold coins with a 1898 mint date.

Where could the remaining 2,497 coins have gone?

Investigators had several theories. That the coins had been sold off in small quantities was unlikely. Banks had been on the lookout for these minted coins and none had ever surfaced. Or, they could have been melted down into bullion where the gold would be easier to pass.

If so, by whom?

Or, they might still be underground in yet another unidentified old mine shaft.

And what about Frank Walston? What had happened to him?

So many questions still to be answered.

To be continued...

Chapter 22 - Trying to connect the dots

In the fall of 1935, construction was completed on the overhead railroad bridge east of Henderson. Construction foreman Mick Fitzgerald was scheduled to move to another assignment but he had another idea.

Like his Uncle Fitz he had a dislike for unsolved mysteries. So he convinced his bosses to let him travel west to see what he could learn about Robert "Swede" Larsson's life after he left Minnesota.

"Give me a month." he told his superiors. "If I don't turn up anything I'll come back and we'll move on. I'd like to close out the file for Uncle Fitz if I can." His bosses at the Omaha Railroad shared Mick's curiosity, not to mention the $50,000 that had been stolen off their train. They gave him the go-ahead.

In early January young Mick Fitzgerald boarded a train in Minneapolis for the West Coast.

"This one's for you, Uncle Fitz," he said as he eased into his coach seat on the west-bound train.

To be continued...

Chapter 23 - Poking around and a surprise discovery

The investigative files revealed that Robert "Swede" Larsson had died eight years earlier; his wife, Lily, two years prior to that. In Los Angeles Mick Fitgerald headed for the last known address of the Larssons hoping that he could gain some helpful information.

At the house next door the couple invited him in. Mick expained that he was tying up some insurance claims (not exactly a lie) and wanted to know if the couple could help him. "Go ahead," the man replied. "Not sure we can be of much help. The Larssons were nice people...good neighbors...but private at the same time."

"Did they have any close friends around here?" Mick asked.

"Not really...except, of course...young Frank."

Mick was surprised by that bit of new information. "Yes, of course," Mick responded, not wanting to appear uninformed. "Do you know where I might locate him?"

"Well, as you probably know, young Frank was adopted...an American-Indian boy. They got him when he as about six years old. Whip smart, he is...and a good athlete. Got a scholarship to Stanford, I believe."

After a moments pause the neighbor's wife added, "We hear he's a professor at Stanford..or maybe Cal. He hasn't been around since his parents passed away."

Mick thanked the couple and went on his way. "That's surprising information," he thought to himself. "Not sure if it's helpful but...we'll see."

To be continued...

Chapter 25 - A meeting with Professor Frank W. Larson

Mick Fitzgerald discovered that tracking down Swede and Lily's son was not that difficult. Aside from dropping an "s" in his last name, Frank Larson was a well known figure on the Stanford University campus.

He made an appointment to meet with him and decided not to beat around the bush in explaining his reason for the visit. The Stanford professor was initially surprised by Mick Fitzgerald's suggestion that his father might have been involved in the robbery of a train some forty years ago. At length, however, he said that if anyone was going to dig around for information he'd rather cooperate and have some involvement in the process.

"I assure you, my father was not the type of person who would rob a train," Larson said emphatically.

"Of course, I understand your concern. You were adopted, is that right?"

"Yes, when I was a very young boy. Were it not for my parents I probably would have had no chance at a good life. My parents named me Frank...after a friend of their's, I understand."

"And the "W" stands for?" Mick asked, thinking of Frand Walston.

"Nothing, just a middle initial."

My parents were good people," Frank Larson continued. "Helped me get an education. I was in college seven years getting a PhD."

"They had some financial means?" Mick inquired casually.

"No, a small annuity that I'm aware of. They were just very frugal people."

Mick Fitzgerald pondered the comment for a moment before asking, "An annuity...what do you know about that?"

"Nothing really. If you want, however, I can arrange for a meeting with the attorney that handled my parents affairs. He may know. I can assure you, though, they had very limited means."

"Thanks, if you don't mind I'll stop by and visit with him."

As Mick departed Professor Larson said to him, "You're dead
wrong about my father being involved in a train robbery. He was a gentle man...not that sort of person."

To be continued...

Chapter 25 - An annuity and a man named Fred Washburn

The following morning Mick Fitzgerald was in tne office of Professor Larson's attorney. After exchanging small talk and cordialities, Mick asked him, "I'm interested in any information you can give me on an annuity that Robert and Lily Larsson had.

The attorney opened the file, looked over the top of his spectacules, and said, "I'm only doing this at Frank's request. If you came in unannounced off the street and asked about this I'd offer you a cup off coffee and then show you the door. It normally comes under the category of 'None of your business', Mr. Fitzgerald. That said, I'm honoring Frank's request."

"I fully understand," Mick said politely. "I can appreciate your position on this."

The lawyer opened the file, paged through the contents, before commenting, "Yes, here it is. A small annuity...I can't diviluge the amount. From a bank in Nebraska...from one F. Washburn, Sheridan Nebraska." With that he closed the file and put it back in his desk.

Mick thought for a moment, "You handled the Larsson's estate?" he asked.

"I did," the lawyer replied. "It was modest. What little they had they shared with those in need. That's all you need to know from me," he said politely but curtly.

"You've been most helpful," Mick said, as they shook hands and departed.

I guess we head for Nebraska, Mick Fitzgerald said to himself.

To be continued.

Chapter 26 - Sheridan, Nebraska...in search of Frank Walston

A week following his conversation with Frank Larson's attorney, Michael Fitzgerald stepped off the train in Sheridan, Nebraska, a small town on the Platte River in the western part of the state.

After checking into the only motel in the town he made his way up the three blocks that made up the main street of the town. It reminds me of Henderson, he thought to himself. It wasn't hard locating the bank in the only brick building on the street. Inside he asked to see the president and was ushered into his office.

"What can I do for you Mr...?"

"Fitzgerald...Michael. I'm resolving some insurance issues involving a Robert and Lily Larsson in Los Angeles...their estate led me to an annuity apparently funded by a Fred Washburn...and I understand it was handled by your bank."

"Your request is a bit unusual, Mr. Fitzgerald, but seeing that Fred Washburn died some years ago, I see no problem sharing some information." He summoned a clerk who minutes later appeared with a file.

"Let me see," the bank executived mused as he paged through a sheath of papers. "Yes, here it is. Hmmm...yes, he did fund and designate an annuity for the Larsson's."

"What can you tell me about Mr. Washburn?" Fitzgerald asked.

"Not a lot. He was a quiet, reserved man...kept to himself. He had a modest home a few miles out of town. No family, as I recall."

"How long did he live here?" Fitzgerald asked.

Again the banker paged through the file before saying, "Opened an account here in 1899. He died in 1926 and the account was closed." Pausing for a moment he added, "He had modest means. I know he contributed to local charities, churches, that sort of thing...and, I believe, the University in Lincoln."

With that sparse information Fitzgerald departed. Back on main street he looked around and thought, Yup, the town reminds me a lot of Henderson..even the bridge over the Platte River. If Washburn is Walston I can see why the town might appeal to him.

But was Fred Washburn really Frank Walston? He was no closer to rrally knowing. Washburn was dead...and the dead don't talk.

To be continued...

Chapter 27 - Where from here?

Mick Fitzgerald left the Sheridan Bank more than a little confused. Some of the dots seemed to connect...or did they?

Were Fred Washburn and Frank Walston one and the same person?

Had the two men - Larsson and Walston - stolen the gold and then gotten religion? Decided to go the straight and narrow? It seemed possible.

If so, what happened to the gold?

That was the question that had plagued his Uncle Pat and others for all of forty years now.

Both Larsson and Walston were dead and gone now. There was no way to know what might be the facts - one way or the other.

Forty years, Mick mused. Maybe it's time to say it's over. Forever a cold case.

The following morning Mick Fitzgerald left Sheridan by train and headed back to Chioago.

He decided it was time to get on with life and his real job.

Tomorrow...the conclusion...what did happen to the gold?

Chapter 28 - The conclusion

Back in his Chicago office Mick Fitzgerald sat down and penned a short letter to Professor Frank Larson. In summary he wrote:

"...After talking to a number of people I have concluded that any suspicions I might have had about your father's involvement in the East Henderson train robbery were totally unfounded...I apologize for any anxiety this has caused you."

In his office back at Stanford University Larson read note then folded it slowly.

As he had done so many times before he asked himself: Did I do the right thing?

He knew where the gold was, at least some of it. Some had also been with Frank whatever-his-name-was. His father's share had been melted down in bullion form and was in a secure place in Los Angeles. He learned this several years before his father's death. Every year the elder Larsson sold an amount and gave the proceeds to charity. It had now been ten years since his father died.

Why hadn't his father fessed up?

Bob Larsson knew if he turned himself in he'd go to jail. Lily had heart trouble and he if he went to jail it would be the death of her. He wasn't going to do that, but he wasn't going to benefit from the theft either. He chose what he thought was the best way out: give it away.

The younger Larson struggled with a similar but different dilema. When he learned of his father's theft and possession of the gold he knew that he himself was complicit if he didn't turn him in. He didn't have it in him to do this. It would have killed his mother; and everything he had in life he attributed to the loving generosity of his parents.

The clincher for Frank Larson was that his father never personally benefited from the gold but saw to it that others in need did. It was, he told himself, a moral dilema and the ethics were indeed murky. In the end his love for his parents won out.

The professor suspected that Frank Walston had done something similar, though he had never met the man, and had no desire to.

It had been forty years since the theft of the gold in East Henderson. The professor continued to sell gold and dispense the "ill-gotten gain" to those in greater need. He did this anonymously for a number of years until the bullion was depleted.

Frank Larson, Professor Emeritus, Stanford University, passed away in 1990 at the age of 77. His obituary listed his many academic and scientific accomplishments. Among other things mentioned, in his retirement years he taught a graduate course in ethics. It added that he was a man of modest means who gave graciously of himself to others.

So ends the story of the Great East Henderson Train Robbery...and what happened to the missing gold.

Tomorrow...an epilogue

EPILOGUE - Great East Henderson Train Robbery

Now you know the whole story. Before we leave, however, let's take a last look over our shoulder.

The Great East Henderson Train Robbery was inspired by Josh Reinitz's "Ballad of East Henderson." Thank you, Josh. The robbery actually never took place. Many of the historical sketches about East Henderson, hoewever, have some basis is fact, including the early building of the rail line in the Valley, the overhead bridge, the camps set up to accomodate workers, and the repeated efforts to mine copper in the area.

Epic stories of train robberies are as old as railroading itself. The local escapades of Jesse James, for one, come to mind. The Great Train Robbery of 1855 in England is another. Perhaps the Great East Henderson Train Robbery will join the genre of great train robberies. That's a writer's version of Fantasy Baseball.

Thank you, Jeff Steinborn, for the East Henderson photos that are sprinkled throughout the story. The source: HENDERSON Then and Now.

It was enjoyable writing the story. We hope you enjoyed reading it.

We have a mini-documentary in the very early planning stages for this space. Watch for it.

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A final but brief "commercial" message: The Joseph R. Brown Center is still looking for contributions to fund "Joe" - the bust statue of Henderson founder Joe Brown. Dedication of the statue is planned for the fall of 2011 on the grounds of the Community Square. We still need help.

If you haven't done so won't you please consider making a contribution. If you already have, "double dipping" is allowed. Send it to: Joseph R. Brown Society, PO Box 6, Henderson, MN 56044; or drop it off at the Henderson city offices.

Look at it as a gift to Historic Henderson - and it's tax deductible.

Story in hard copy

Not everyone is online and a Chatter member. For those who aren't but might be interested in the story of "The Great East Henderson Train Robbery," we have printed a limited number of hard copies and sent some to the Henderson Library.

For those more distant from the Henderson and the library, let me know and we'll mail a copy to you. You can message back to me on this website.