Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 172, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 July 1912 — Reformed Bandit is A Candidate for Office [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Reformed Bandit is A Candidate for Office

7 six-shooter and black Bl mask to briefs, motions . and pleadings. Such is the record of "Al” Jennings, erstwhile bandit, soldier of fortune and terror of the express companies in the Okla- *- homa territorial days. Jennings made amends to sooiety long ago. He was captured by the man hunters and sentenced to life imprisonment in the Federal prison at Columbus, O. President Roosevelt pardoned him after Jennings had served two years. Then Jennings came back to Oklahoma and began the practice of law in Oklahoma City. Now he is making a brilliant campaign for the Democratic nomination {or county attorney of his home county. In announcinig his candidacy he issues a remarkable statement in which he acknowledges the sins of his past and tells of his hopes for the future.

Twenty years ago Jennings was the leader of a band of desperadoes who looted trains in broad daylight and Bluded posses and United States marshals with ease. In October, 1897, he robbed his last train, a Rock Island passenger, near Mince, Okla. He was bqtrayed by a comrade, hunted across the state; doubling and turning like a fox," beating off his prusuers in desperate conflicts, he wes finally captured and sent to Federal prison. He has had a remarkable career. Bora in Virginia, he was educated for the bar at West Virginia university, later emigrating to the Indian Territory. The murder of a younger brother under peculiarly fiendish circumstances made him an enemy of all society. He turned outlaw, robbed banks, trains and express-offices. For years he was a thorn in the fiesh- ot tiie territorial authorities. “Beau Brummel” of the outlaws was the nickname given him because of his unfailing courtesy while holding his victims helpless under the muzzles of a pair of six-shooters. He was such a bandit as Robin Hood, giving away today what his band had risked their lives for yesterday. His cunning and shrewdness saved his followers from death and capture on many occasions. On a hot July day in the nineties Jennings was leading his outlaws in a dash for safety through the Osage reservation. They were eating dinner at a ranch house when the rancher ran into the room speechless with fijght. He whispered to Jennings that a posse of heavily armed marshals were outside demanding dinner. They were at the gate, hardly 100

feet away from the door. Therfc was Twt-R-tßce-Jn a ttillpl ts the officers, came in a bloody fight would ensue. Jennings was afraid of a stampede and a running conflict The rancher was afraid his wife and children might be killed. The outlaw leader sat quietly at the table. “Pass the soup, please,” said Jennings in a matter-of-fact tone. The tension was broken. ,Hls men slipped back into their seats, keeping their hands on their guns. Jennings got up, looked out at the impatient officers and said to the rancher: “Go out and tell those boys that they can’t get any dinner here today. Tell them so they will understand it.” “Those boys” understood. The rancher made it very plain to them that Jenningß’ band was inside and every man in the posse was covered by a gun.. They rode on. As soon

as they were out of sight the outlaws slipped into the corn fields and con* tlnued their flight 7 officers were close behind. Early in the afternoon they crossed the Arkansas river into Pawnee county, and Jennings’ quick wit alone saved them from annihilation in the river bottoms. The corn was tall enough to shield the bandits who followed a wagon trail through the field. Near the edge of the field Jennings’ quick eye saw a wide mark in the dust of the road. He took it as a friendly warning, and after some argument the band wheeled and rode off through the com rows to a timbered hill. They hid there until late afternoon. Just about sundown one of the bandits looked off toward the river and exclaimed: “Well, what do you think of that?” There was the posse recrossing the river to the Osage side with the sun glittering on their rifles. Later Jennings learned that the warning mark had kept him from riding straight into an ambuscade where "Bud" Ledbetter, deputy marshal, and a dozen heavily armed possemen were waiting. The first volley would have emptied every outlaw saddle. This was all in a day’s work for the slim young bandit, who long ago gave up outlawry to take up the profession that was then busy hunting him down. He was attorney for the defense in the recent trial of the Craven’s gang at Guthrie. Oklahoma is beginning to forget the train robber and think of Jennings altogether as a lawyer. Jennings went adventuring in South American republics years ago. He met O. Henry, that O. Henry whose real name was Sidney Porter, down in one of the “banana republics." Jennings i was a fugitive at the time, but he later went back to his “long riding” to the robbing of banks and trains and his hide-and-seek with the officers. Tears afterward he and O. Henry renewed their friendship, and Jennings spent much time in New York with the short-story writer. “▲I" Jennings first practiced law in Canadian county, Okla., where he was county attorney for one term. This was in the first years of his life in the southwest It was after this promising start in the west that he became a bandit Now that he has entirely given up his old companions and his love for outlawry, he hopes to get back into the harness of tbs law.