The Tullis Murder

The assassination of A. M. Tullis, a wealthy rancher on the Sacramento River, by hired murderers is one of the most sensational and revolting murders on record. On the night of August first, he was attacked near his house and shot to death. The crime for some days was shrouded in mystery—so far as a knowledge of the perpetrators was concerned. But the detectives found pieces of a duck-boat near the edge of the river among the brush. The lumber was fresh and new-looking, and some figures led to the discovery that the lumber with those figures had been sold to certain parties in Sacramento a few days previously. It was ascertained that a rude boat, built ostensibly for duck-hunting, had been constructed in the basement of the house of Troy Dye, Public Administrator of Sacramento County. He was arrested; subsequently certain other facts were developed, touching the launch of the boat in the outskirts of Sacramento under the cover of night. It was ascertained that Dye had driven down the road by the river bank that night. Suspicion resolved itself into a moral certainty, backed up by a strong array of circumstantial evidence. For a few days, it was hoped by the people of Sacramento who had elected Dye to the office he held that he was only an accessory, having no direct hand in the foul deed. But doubt resolved itself into a certainty of his guilt, and it was ascertained that he had at least two accomplices. Edward Anderson, a confederate of Dye’s, was arrested a few days after the latter, and now both of these men have confessed to the crime. It was planned by Dye that he might have the settling of the dead man’s estate. Tullis, who was an old bachelor, was believed to have no relatives and his estate is valued at $100,000. Anderson and a third man named Tom Lawton were the actual assassins, acting under the advice and in the interest of Dye. Lawton, who has not yet been arrested, is a genteel-looking gambler of 23. Edward Anderson is a Swede and has recently followed the butchering business. From the killing of cattle to the killing of his fellow mortals was to him an easy transition. He had boasted to Dye before securing the “job” for which he will now in all likelihood suffer, that he had already killed two men. It is interesting as a curious study of crime and human nature that during the political campaign last year, when Dye was running for the office of Public Administrator, he took occasion to say frequently that the office in which he aspired was not a profitable one and that to make it pay, he would have to send out a “killer” to make business for him. After his election, he finds that the office does not pay much, he claims to have made only $38 out of it in nearly five months. He was asked in a bantering way by various persons who had heard him make use of the fore-quoted expression and who knew he was not making much out of his office, “when are you going to send out your killer?” It is reasonable to presume that his mind gradually became used to the idea of sending out his killer until at last, finding willing tools in the person of Anderson and Lawton who boasted of their prowess as murderers, he naturally and easily adapted himself to the situation and coolly matured the plot for Tullis’s taking off. At the same time, the fact that two professional murderers were so conveniently accessible is a commentary on the uncertainty of our society. In how many of our towns is it not possible to find one or more who have “killed their man?” It is scarcely possible to find a village of 1,000 inhabitants on this coast where one or more cannot be found who have “killed their man.” In altercations and in self-defense, probably, most of them; but that there are red-handed murderers walking the streets of every town of any size in this state, there is no doubt. And, of course, some of them, growing more reckless and desperate, are ready to be hired out—all they want is to feel that they are safe. In San Francisco, not many months ago, a poor fallen woman was made away with, being shot dead by some unknown assassin; and the papers of that city plainly stated that it was generally believed at police headquarters hired assassins might be obtained in that city who would put any one out of the way for fifty dollars. After all, the excitement and interwhich centers in the Tullis murder is not so much the result of an old-fashioned feeling of horror at the wanton spilling of human blood, as it is owing to what may be called the dramatic features of the murder. Things are coming to that pass when only a murder of peculiar atrocity and deliberation shocks the people of California. It is probable that the crime of the More murderers at San Buenaventura and the murderers of Tullis on Grand Island may both be explained on the scaffold, but to think of hanging a man who kills another for “sassing” him is expecting too much of an average California jury. [Placer Weekly Argus, Auburn, Saturday, 8-24-1878. Submitted by Kathie Marynik]

Folsom Prisoners Face Grim New Year as Hangings Start

SACRAMENTO, Dec. 31—It’s going to be a grim New Year’s celebration at Folsom Prison—for Hangman’s Day is too close at hand. Beginning January 3 and for the next three Fridays thereafter, five gangsters who, a little more than two years ago, plotted the bloodiest revolt in the prison’s history, will be hanged. Technically, the convicts stand convicted of the murder of a fellow prisoner, “Red” Baker, a trusty, slain by a stray bullet fired by the men in their desperate attempt to escape. But in the eyes of Warden Court Smith and his staff, they are paying the penalty for stabbing to death Guard Ray Singleton, the unarmed hero who tried to quell the riot when it began. Twelve others lost their lives in the revolt. Here are the prisoners to be hanged, in order of this execution:

January 3—“Tony” Brown, 30, San Francisco holdup man, whose gray-haired mother testified at the trial that her boy was incapable of murder; Roy Stokes, “The Rat,” 23, Los Angeles burglar, a Texan by birth with a mania for killing “niggers” whom he hates. He killed one as a youth, for which he served a reformatory term, and another during his term at Folsom.

January 10—Walter “Scarface” Burke, 30, Sacramento theatre robber, said to have a long sentence awaiting him in Texas; “Jimmy” Gregg, “The Weasel,” 28, sentenced from Fresno for slaying Constable Boyle of Kingsburg. The murder was committed November 14, 1924, after Gregg and two companions had escaped from prison guards near Chowchilla.

January 17—“Jimmy” Gleason, alias Gene Crosby, 29, a four-time loser, last sentenced for first degree robbery in Alameda County.

The sixth of the gang, Albert M. Stewart, “The Squealer,” 34, is also under sentence of death, but his appeal is still in the higher courts. Rumor has it that his death sentence will be commuted because he turned state’s evidence and “squealed” on his comrades. It was on Thanksgiving Day, 1927, during the showing of a moving picture, “Ankles Preferred,” that the riot broke out at Folsom. The six youthful desperadoes, armed with daggers, a blackjack, a hatchet, and an automatic pistol, threw the prison into turmoil by their futile attempt to escape. Thirty hours of terror elapsed before the convicts realized they were beaten and surrendered. An army of more than 1,000 men, including every available police officer in Northern California, several National Guard companies, was preparing to storm the fortress with tanks, machine guns, and gas bombs. In the twilight of early morning, the telephone rang in Warden Smith’s home. Tony Brown, speaking for his mates, said, “We give up, Warden; send down a guard and we’ll give him our weapons.” The revolt had ended. Three trials were required before the rioters got the death sentence. The first, for the murder of Guard Singleton, ended in a verdict of guilty with recommendation of life imprisonment. Undaunted, Neil McAllister, district attorney, proceeded to file new charges for the murder of the convict Baker. This trial ended when a juror died. Followed a third trial, conviction, the death penalty, and appeals to the highest courts in the land, which upheld the verdict. [Roseville Tribune and Register, Friday, 1-3-1930. Submitted by K. Marynik]