"To the Nevada State Police and to Captain Donnelley, Privates Buck and Stone, and Sergeant Newgard: "Gentlemen:-

"As a Committee of One I am directed by the citizens of Surprise Valley, this county, by a resolution pa.s.sed by the citizens last week, to express to you gentlemen the thanks we so deeply owe you for your efficient and loyal services rendered in the interest of public justice in the running down of the Indian renegade murderers of our citizens in Nevada.

"We cannot begin to express the same by words of tongue or pen and our feelings coming from the heart must be left to better speakers and writers than myself.

"Be a.s.sured of our great thanks, and should occasion require we will endeavor to make good in payment.

"Very sincerely yours,

"(Signed) H. E. SMITH, Sheriff."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Captain J. P. Donnelly Former State Police Superintendent]

In 1912 there were some very serious disturbances in the copper mines in Ely. Martial law was declared; Captain Donnelley was delegated to go down to quell the disorder, and in a remarkably short time peace and order were restored. His success was due in a great measure to his magnetic personality, for the Captain is very popular and makes staunch friends wherever he goes.

One of the greatest a.s.sets a man can have is the right sort of a wife.

Mrs. Donnelley, once a divorcee, is both charming and interesting. She is a woman of culture, has traveled extensively and is interested in all the social problems of the day. When the Red Cross Chapter was organized in Reno she was asked to take charge of the workroom, which originally started with two and now boasts of a working force of between thirty to forty ladies. Without her efficient aid, little progress would have been made.

Both the Captain and his wife are exceptionally fond of children and animals, and they tell the following amusing incident about one of the Captain's birthdays. One fine afternoon, out of a clear sky, seventeen youngsters of every conceivable size and shape, marched in upon Mrs.

Donnelley, and announced the fact that they had come to celebrate Captain Donnelley's birthday. Thereupon they held aloft three monster cakes which they had brought along to demolish in case the Captain did not have birthday cakes any more. After the rather surprised lady of the house had ransacked the neighborhood for some fruit and ice cream to help the cake along and practically no vestige of the feast remained, the unsuspecting Captain came upon the scene. There was a rush and a scamper and a babel of voices shouted out, "Oh, Captain Donnelley, we're having such a good time at your birthday party!"

Orpheus and his lute, David and his harp, Donnelley and his dog! These are inseparable a.s.sociations, and so fine and historic an animal is "Brownie" that the newspapers devote write-ups to him just as if he were a regular celebrity or something like that. He is now guarding the chicks on a ranch and is making a dandy truant officer, so the Captain tells me.

The Captain is a thinker, too. A short time ago he wrote a series of articles for the Reno Gazette, dealing with psychology. I was particularly impressed with a fact which he made to stand out clearly above all others and which would vitally affect society as a whole if it were to be universally carried out. It is the subst.i.tution of an indeterminate sentence for the definite one which now prevails. "No judge can determine in advance when a prisoner is fit to return to the community," he says; and in the same way we release the inmates of an insane hospital as soon as we think them sufficiently recovered, he believes we should release the criminal as soon as experts p.r.o.nounce him fit to resume his relations with society.

The following is a copy of the verses which the Captain thought would help his co-workers to do things right:

"Did you tackle the trouble that came your way With a resolute heart and cheerful, Or hide your face from the light of day With a craven heart and fearful?

Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce, Or a trouble is what you make it; And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts, But only how did you take it.

"You're beaten to earth; well, well, what's that?

Come up with a smiling face, It's nothing against you to fall down flat, But to lie there-that's disgrace.

The harder you're thrown, why the higher you bounce; Be proud of your blackened eye.

It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts, It's how did you fight, and why.

"And though you be done to death, what then?

If you battled the best you could; If you've played your part in the world of men, Why, the critic will call it good.

Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce, And whether he's slow or spry, It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts, But only, how did you die?"

And now we come to a pure Sagebrush Son who first announced himself into the family midst only a few miles away from Virginia City, Judge Langdon. His father had been a true pioneer of the Comstock Lodge, and so Frank was born with a "golden" spoon in his mouth.

However that may be, he went to school at Gold Hill, thence to St.

Mary's College and finally pa.s.sed the bar examination in 1886. Then he came back to Nevada, post haste, and established a law office in Virginia City and there he is to this day. Not for long, however, did he remain a private pract.i.tioner. He soon became a member of the a.s.sembly, and District Attorney of his home County and subsequently was elected Judge of the County of Storey. And thereby hangs a "story."

While the Judge was on the bench a felonious murder was committed.

Preston and Smith were the criminals arraigned before the courts, and Frank P. Langdon their Judge. Originally the trial had come up in Hawthorne, Seat of Esmeralda County, and when in the midst of the case the County Seat was changed the case was naturally transferred.

Feeling ran very high, for the prisoners had many friends, and several anonymous letters, bearing a fear-inspiring skull and cross-bones sketched in blood-red ink, did the young Judge handle: needless to say without any fear or trepidation! A son of the sagebrush knows no fear!

At last the day for the final decision came. Some of those I have met who were present in the court room tell me that the atmosphere was highly charged and that many expected to see the Judge get a rough deal. But calmly, in clear ringing tones, he boldly stated his convictions, irrespective of the direst results that might follow; yet nothing happened. The men were condemned and the Judge is still residing in Virginia City, happy with his wife and six lively children.

Not only through the popular ditty have the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia become famous: their own natural beauty is sufficient to render them beloved by all those who have had the opportunity to see them or live amongst them. But it is also under the blue shadows of those Virginia peaks that many a good man was born and it is therefore a great tribute to Nevada, I think, that Judge Sanders has permanently made his home under the purple and gray shadows of the Sagebrush slopes.

He had been deputy clerk and librarian of the Supreme Court of Virginia, and during this time had taken advantage of the lore with which he came in contact to study the ways and byways of the law. Like unto hosts of others, for him too the Comstock Lode had proved a magnet, and in 1904 he hit the trail for Virginia City, Nevada. Then he trailed on, attracted by the Manhattan boom, and finally landed in Tonopah, the great silver camp. By this time he had begun to be known as a "big fighter" in the law world. His famous speech on the "Prospector" attracted considerable attention, and Nevada's sons soon found out that they had a real man in their midst. He was elected District Attorney of Nye County, and there never was a man more free from political prejudice or more ready to give every applicant to the Courts of Justice a fair and square deal. Cattle rustlers quaked and trembled at the name of Sanders as did I. W. W.'s; surrounding States never felt so very kindly disposed toward the Judge, as it was he who in a great measure was responsible for exterminating this disturbing element, or rather dumping it into other States, since it proved inexterminable.

Judge Sanders is married to a Wisconsin girl and has his home at Carson City, Nevada.

d.i.c.k Stoddard is a Reno boy through and through, and although his middle name is Cross, it certainly has nothing to do with his disposition, for he is most entertaining and genial. As a youth he attended the High School and the University, after a time taking the civil service. Then in the service of the railroad proper, he wandered around the coast for about four years.

Not content with this mission in life, he entered the law offices of a prominent firm of attorneys where he imbibed all the legal wisdom he could, supplementing his practical experience by theoretical study. In 1903, behold our Judge, a full-fledged advocate; in 1905 he was elected City Attorney for Reno. It was during his term that Reno's streets were first paved, the new City Hall built and the Truckee's banks spanned by the Virginia Street bridge.

A rather amusing story is told of how "they,"--his friends,--"put one over" on d.i.c.k, the "putting over," however, being to their mutual advantage.

The Judge, or rather Attorney, as he was then, had one of those "off"

spells that all of us have at times. He had sniffed his fill of musty legal parchment for the time, and he decided that he would prefer a sniff of the sea-weed and brine; that he needed a tonic arid that no better could be found than "Ozone." So he packed his grip, gave his friends the "slip," as one might say, and skipped off to a California resort. And while this revered City Attorney was vigorously breasting the Pacific billows, and enjoying cooling breezes that brought in their wake reminiscences of Honolulu, and other lands that enchant the senses, his friends at home saw to it that d.i.c.k Stoddard got the t.i.tle of "General" hitched onto his t.i.tle of Attorney.

During his generalship there were several interesting "spats" between the Inter-state Commerce Commission and the railroads, but Attorney- General Stoddard was the right man at the right time, and I a.s.sure you that the State didn't have to suffer.

Judge Moran is another original son of Erin who has adopted Nevada and has been adopted by her. One could hardly say that he was born with a golden spoon in his mouth, for "Barney" Moran had anything but the "life of Riley" in his early years. Up and up he has moved along the checker-board, however, until now he has become a "knight," a real knight, for many a human being would still be in sore distress were it not for the Judge's kind heart and sympathetic understanding in the divorce court. Some have dubbed him "Papa" Moran; he is so fatherly they say. And as of course it is no sin to kiss a father, it has happened that some of the highly strung victims have ventured to embrace Papa after he p.r.o.nounced those all-meaning words, "judgment for the plaintiff."

When he was only ten years of age, both his parents pa.s.sed away and so about four years afterwards he crossed the "herring pond" in quest of a life of adventure. As far as variety is concerned, he had plenty of it, and some to spare, and it is all those hard knocks that have helped him to understand human nature as he does. Over in Cleveland he attended night school while working during the day as a machine-shop apprentice. Not finding this "job" quite to his liking, he tried tending the "traps" or doors underground in some of the coal mines.

Soon his fancy changed again, and we find him engaged as a water boy on one of the railroads. "Tick, tick;-tick tick-tick," signaled the telegraph, and it was not long before young Moran became proficient enough to take a job as an operator.

Now why the nickname "Barney," you will ask. Thereby hangs a tale!

While working in the telegraph office, Tom Morau became infused with some of the electricity which charged the instruments, or so it seemed anyway. Now there were no less than four boys in that office who answered to the name of "Tom." So you may imagine, can't you, what, stampede there was every time the chief operator called "Tom." But don't imagine our Tom ever let anyone else get ahead of him. Although he was the youngest and probably the least in requisition, he was always "Johnny on the spot" before any of the Toms. To solve this dilemma which was first considered a joke but later developed into an unmitigated nuisance, the chief operator eventually said to Moran, "Say, Tom, in future you're Barney."

Under the tutelage of Thomas L. Bellam, who took a great interest in him, he did three years of general study. This whetted his appet.i.te for more, and he consequently landed in Chicago and took a course at the Chicago College of Law. But not till several years later did he take his final degree and start practicing. Now our wandering little Irish boy is District Judge of Washoe County.

How seldom it is that we find anyone whose name is a real symbol of his temperament or profession. Often Mr. Stone will be a weak mollycoddle; Mr. Sharp, a phlegmatic b.u.t.ter-won't-melt-in-my-mouth sort of individual, or Mr. Strong, an "acute dyspeptic."

Somehow, the gentleman in question, August Frohlich, seems to have been a little more fortunate in that respect, for Frohlich in German means "merry," and I have yet to find a man who is more devil-may-care or happy-go-lucky, in spite of all his family responsibilities, than Mr. August Frohlich.

He was born in California, and at the age of seventeen found himself the sole supporter of himself and his mother. Since then he has held in turn almost every known variety of commercial position. Acting first as a fruit rancher, he then developed a pa.s.sion for mining, at the same time pursuing a business course. When next we see him, he is exchanging smiles and general goods over the counter, his popularity winning for him afterwards the position of Postmaster and agent for Wells Fargo & Company at Crescent Mills. But he was young and restless, like so many of us have been, in one way or another, and two years are a long time. After running a stage line, doing a little bookkeeping and a few other odd jobs of the kind, he came to Reno and settled down for another two years to study at the University. And so on. The scene kept changing with kaleidoscopic rapidity until finally he found a congenial position in the Washoe County Bank, with the position of Receiving Teller. Political ambitions then began to take possession of this ever-progressive man, and he--was elected a Republican member of the 25th Legislature from Washoe County, receiving the highest vote of any of the twenty-seven candidates. In recognition of his ability, he was elected Speaker of the a.s.sembly which was evenly divided, there being twenty-four Republicans and twenty-four Democrats, with one Independent. In his campaign for Speaker, the only promise he made was for a square deal. The proof that he had redeemed his promise was evidenced by his being re-elected Speaker of the Special Session which was held the following year. He was Director of the Reno Commercial Club, and surely the club spirit must be strong within him when you stop to think that he is a Mason, Elk, Moose, Druid, Woodman, and is active in the Y.M.C.A. At the present compilation, Mr. Frohlich is the owner of the Commercial Steel Company.

I have recently been told by a lady who is prominent in social affairs that his great function when a benefit of any kind is given in town, is to try to drown the unmelodious clatter of the dishwashing with his fine vibrant tenor.

Mr. Frohlich certainly enjoys popularity; his good humor and pleasing personality account for that, and thus Reno can surely be proud of such a bachelor, who all these years has defied la.s.soing.

"Railroad Day," the big day when Reno was put on the map, was also Norcross Day, for the day when the first Pacific train pa.s.sed through this town was the one when little Frank Norcross pa.s.sed into our mundane existence to take his place--with the rest of us mortals: when so to say little Frank was "put on the map." His parents had come out to California as far back as 1850, Norcross' father being engaged in mining, lumbering and farming.

Frank Norcross had his preliminary education at Huffakers, and had early evinced a literary turn of mind when as a comparative youth he received the degree of Bachelor of Arts. Twenty years later the University conferred upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Law. He served a full term as County Surveyor of Washoe County and attended to Reno's old-fashioned lights, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g them as he went along, no matter how severe the cold. One consolation he probably had was that unlike the other pedestrians he had an opportunity to warm those frozen finger tips. No mean advantage, I should judge, when the mercury sinks to zero and lower.

He taught in a local school for a year or so, then did some newspaper work for the Journal and Gazette and finally ended by practicing law, having graduated from the University of Georgetown in 1894. After that, promotion came easily. When he had been in succession District Attorney of Washoe County and Supreme Judge, he served for two years as Chief Justice, and so great was his popularity that he was re- elected without any opposition.

A very interesting fact about the Judge is that he won a thousand dollar cash prize offered by the "National Magazine" of Boston, for the best article in support of Colonel Roosevelt for a second elective term. But then, he was a great friend and admirer of the Colonel's and it evidently came to him easily.

It was mainly through his efforts that the Reno Free Library was established, for he had always been interested in educational opportunities. Apparently he had some difficulty, too, in persuading Andrew Carnegie that Reno was actually an inhabited town, and habitable at that. "Andy," like so many other Easterners, was a little skeptical on that score, thinking probably that the divorcees would not want a free library, and surely according to fame or rather notoriety, there was nothing else of any note or significance in Reno but divorcees, with the exception perhaps of the lawyers, and they no doubt had all the law books they needed!

Besides being a great lawyer, the Judge is also a good patriot, for he was a captain of the National Guard and took considerable interest in the State Militia affairs.