Ep. 7 - The Secret Still

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Episode Transcript

(00:00):
Chapter seven, The secret Still Julyfirst, nineteen nineteen, said Bill Quinn,
as he appropriately reached for a bottlecontaining a very soft drink. By
no means marked the beginning of thegovernment's troubles in connection with the illicit manufacture
of liquor. Of course, there'sbeen a whole lot in the papers since

(00:24):
the Thirst of July about people havingprivate stills in their cellars, making drinks
with a kick out of grape juiceand a piece of yeast, and all
that sort of thing. One Concernin Pittsburgh, I understand, has also
noted a tremendous and absolutely abnormal increasein the demand for its hot water heating

(00:47):
plants, the copper coils of whichmake an ideal substitute for a still.
But I doubt very much if thereis going to be a real movement in
the direction of the private manufacture ofalcohol beverages. The Internal Revenue Department is
too infernally watchful and its agents tooefficient for much of that to get by.

(01:11):
When you get right down to it, there's no section in the country
where the art of making liquor flourishesto such an extent as it does in
Eastern Tennessee. In western North Carolinamoonshine, there is not only a recognized
article of trade, but its manufactureis looked upon as an inalienable right.

(01:33):
It's tough sledding for any revenue officerwho isn't mighty quick on the trigger,
and even then, as Jimmy Reynoldsdiscovered a few years back, they're likely
to get him unless he mixes brainswith his shooting ability. Reynolds continued,
Quinn, easing his injured leg intoa more comfortable position, was as valuable

(01:57):
a man as any whose name everappeared in the government blue book. He's
left the bureau now and settled downto a life of comparative ease as assistant
district attorney of some middle western city. I've forgotten which one, But there
was a good reason for his notcaring to remain in the east. The

(02:17):
climate west of the Mississippi is farmore healthy for Jimmy these days. At
the time of the Stiles case,jim was about twenty nine, straight as
an arrow, and with a bulldog tenacity that just wouldn't permit of his
letting go of a problem until thesolution was filed in the official pigeon holes

(02:39):
which answer to the names of archives. It was this trait which led Chambers,
then Commissioner of Internal Revenue, tosend for him after receipt of a
message that two of his best men, Douglas and would I think their names
were, had been brought back tome Tennessee with bullet holes neatly drilled through

(03:04):
their hearts. Jim said the Commissioner, this case has gone just far enough.
It's one thing for the mountaineers ofTennessee to make moonshine whiskey and defy
the laws of the United States.But when they deliberately murder two of my
best men and pin a rudely scribblednote to beware this country on the front

(03:27):
of their shirts, that's going entirelytoo far. I'm going to clean out
that nest of illicit stills if ittakes the rest of my natural life,
and every man in the bureau morethan that, I'll demand help from the
War Department if necessary. By gad, I'll teach them, and the inkwell

(03:50):
on the Commissioner's desk leaped into theair as Chambers's fist registered determination. Reynolds
reached for a fresh cigar from theapply that. I always reposed in the
upper drawer of the Commissioner's desk andwaited until it was well lighted before he
replied. All well and good chief, he commented, But how would the

(04:13):
army help you any You could turnfifty thousand men in uniform loose in those
mountains, and the odds are theywouldn't locate the bunch year after fire.
Isn't the weapon to fight those mountaineerswith. They're too wise. What you
need is brains. Possibly you cansupply that deficiency, retorted the commissioner,

(04:38):
a little nettled. Oh, Ididn't mean that you personally needed the brains,
laughed Reynolds. The pronoun was usedfiguratively and collectively at that. I
would like to have a whirl atthe case. If you've got nothing better
for me to do. There isn'tanything better for anyone to do at the

(05:00):
present time, Chambers interrupted, That'swhy I sent for you. We know
that whiskey is being privately distilled inlarge quantities somewhere in the mountains, not
far from Maymead. Right there,our information ends. Our men have tried
all sorts of dodges to land thecrowd behind the Stills. But the only

(05:24):
thing they've been able to learn isthat a man named Stiles is one of
the ruling spirits. His cabin iswell up in the mountains, and it
was while they were prospecting round thatpart of the country that Douglas and Wood
were shot. Now, what's youridea of handling the case? The first

(05:45):
thing that I want, Chief isto be allowed to work on this absolutely
alone, and that not a soulin bureau or out of it is to
know what I'm doing. Easy enoughto arrange that, assented the Commissioner.
But there isn't any but Reynolds cutin. You've tried putting a number of

(06:09):
men to work on this and they'vefailed. Now try letting one handle it.
For the past two years, I'vehad a plane in the back of
my head that I've been waiting theright opportunity to use. So far as
I can see, it's fool proof, and I'm willing to take all the
responsibility in connection with it. Careto outline it, inquired Chambers. Not

(06:35):
right at the moment, was Reynold'sreply, because it would seem too wild
and scatter brained. I don't mindtelling you, though, that for the
next six weeks. My address willbe in care of the warden of the
Penitentiary of Morgantown, West Virginia,if you wish to reach me Morgantown,

(06:58):
echoed the commissioner. What Heaven's nameare you're going to do there? Lay
the stage setting for the first act? Smiled Jimmy. Likewise, collect what
authors referred to as local color materialthat's essential to what I trust will be
the happy ending of this drama,happy at least from the government's point of

(07:20):
view. But while you know thatI'm at Morgantown, I don't want anyone
else to know it, And I'dmuch prefer that you didn't communicate with me
there unless it's absolutely necessary. AllRight, I won't. You're handling the
case from now on alone entirely,if you wish it, Yes, Chief,

(07:46):
I do wish it. I canpromise you one of two things within
the next three months. Either you'llhave all the evidence you want about the
secret still and the men behind it, or well you know where to ship
my remains. With that and aquick handshake, he was gone. During

(08:09):
the weeks that followed, people repeatedlyasked the commissioner, what's become of Jimmy
Reynolds. Haven't seen him round herefor a month of Sundays, But the
Commissioner would assume an air of blankignorance, mutter something about he's out of
town somewhere, and rapidly changed thesubject. About six weeks or so later,

(08:33):
a buzzard, which was flapping itslazy way across the mountains which divide
Tennessee from North Carolina, saw farbelow a strange sight a man, haggard
and forlorn, his face covered witha half inch of stubble, his cheeks
sunken, his clothing torn by bramblesand bleached by the sun and rain until

(08:58):
it was almost impossible to tell itsoriginal texture. Stumbled along with his eyes
fixed always on the crest of ahill some distance off. It was as
if he were making a last desperateeffort to reach his goal before the sun
went down. Had the buzzard beenso minded, his keen eyes might have

(09:20):
noted the fact that the man's clotheswere marked by horizontal stripes, while his
head was covered with hair the samelength all over as if he had been
shaved recently, and the unkempt thatchhad sprouted during the last ten days.
Painfully but persistently, the man inconvict's clothes pressed forward. When the sun

(09:46):
was a little more than half wayacross the heavens, he glimpsed a cabin
tucked away on the side of amountain spur not far away. At the
sight, he pressed forward with renewedvigor. But distances are deceptive in that
part of the country, and itwas not until nearly dark that he managed

(10:07):
to reach his destination. In fact, the Stile's family was just setting down
to what passes for supper in thatpart of the world fat bacon and corn
bread mostly when there was the soundof a man's footsteps some fifty feet away.
Instantly the hound dog rose from hisaccustomed place under the table and crouched,

(10:30):
ready to repel invaders. Old manStiles. His wife called him Joe,
but to the entire countryside he wasjust Old Man Stiles reached for his
rifle with a muttered imprecation about revenueofficers who never let a body be But

(10:50):
the mountaineer had hardly risen from hisseat when there was a sound as of
a heavy body falling against the door, and then silence. Stiles looked inquiringly
at his wife, and then atRuth, their adopted daughter. None of
them spoke for an appreciable time,but the hound continued to whine and finally

(11:13):
backed off into a corner. GuessI'll have to see what it is,
drawled the master of the cabin,holding his rifle ready for action. Slowly
he moved toward the door, andcautiously, very cautiously, he lifted the
bolt that secured it. Even ifit were a revenue officer, he argued

(11:35):
to himself, his conscience was clear, and his premises could stand the formality
of a search, because, savefor a certain spot known to himself alone,
there was nothing that could be consideredincriminating. As the door swung back,
the body of a man fell intothe room, a man whose clothing

(11:58):
was tattered and whose features were concealedunder a week's growth of stubbly beard.
Right into the cabin. He fell, for the door had supported his body,
and once that support was removed,he lay as one dead. In
fact, it wasn't until at leastfive minutes had elapsed that Stiles came to

(12:20):
the conclusion that the intruder was reallyalive after all. During that time he
had worked over him in the roughmountain fashion, punching and pulling and manhandling
him in an effort to secure somesign of life. Finally, the newcomer's
eyes opened and he made an effortto sit up. Wait a minute,

(12:45):
stranger directed Stiles, motioning his wifetoward a closet in the corner of the
room. Missus Stiles, or Maas she was known in that part of
the country, understood the movement withouta word. She opened the cupboard and
took down a flask filled with aclear, golden yellow liquid. Some of

(13:07):
this she poured into a cracked cupon the table and handed it to her
husband. Here directed the mountaineer,throw your head back and drink this.
It's good for what ails you.The moment after he had followed instructions,
the stranger gulped, gurgled, andgasped as the moonshine whisky burnt its way

(13:31):
down its throat. The man sizedrank, taken on a wholly empty stomach,
almost nauseated him. Then it putnew life in his veins, and
he tried to struggle to his feet. Ruth Stiles was beside him in an
instant and with her father's help assistedhim to a chair at the table.

(13:54):
Stranger, said Stiles, stepping asideand eyeing the intruder critically. I don't
know who or what you are,but I do know that you look plum
tuckered out. Nobody's going hungry inmy house, so fall too, and
we'll discuss other matters later. Whereuponhe laid his rifle in its accustomed place,

(14:18):
motioned to his wife and daughter toresume their places at the table,
and dragged up another chair for himself. Beyond a word or two of encouragement
to eat all he wanted of thevery plain fare, none of the trio
addressed the newcomer during the remainder ofthe meal. All three of them had

(14:39):
noted the almost obliterated stripes that encircledhis clothing, and their significance was unmistakable,
But Styles himself was far from beingconvinced. He had heard too much
of the tricks of government agents tobe misled by what might prove, after
all, only clever disguise. Therefore, when the women folk had cleared away

(15:05):
the supper things and the two menhad the room to themselves, the mountaineer
offered his guest a pipeful of tobacco, and saw to it that he took
a seat before the fire, wherethe light would play directly upon his features.
Then he opened fire. Stranger,he inquired, what might your name

(15:26):
be? Patterson said the other,Jim Patterson. Where you come from?
Charlestown first and Morgantown second? Upfor twelve years for manslaughter, railroaded at
that was Patterson's laconic reply. How'dyou get away? At that? The

(15:52):
convict laughed, but there was moreof a snarl than humor in his tone
as he answered, climbed the wallwhen the guards weren't lookin. They took
a couple of pot shots at me, but none of them came within a
mile. Then I beat itself,travelin by night, an hidin' by day,

(16:14):
stole what I could to eat,But this country ain't overly well filled
with farms. Hadn't had a bitefor two days, sept some berries.
When I saw your cabin and campup here, Stiles puffed away in silence
for a moment. Then he roseas if to fetch something from the other

(16:36):
side of the room. Once behindPatterson, however, he reached forward and,
seizing the stubble that covered his face, yanked it as hard as he
could. What the yelled the convict, springing to his feet and involuntarily raising
his clenched hand. Calm yourself,stranger, Calm yourself, directed the mountaineer

(17:00):
with a half smile. Jess wantedto see for myself if that beard was
real. That's all thought you mightbe a revenue agent in disguise. A
revenue agent, queried Patterson, andthen, as if the thought had just
struck him that he was in theheart of the moonshining district, he added,

(17:23):
that's rich me just out of thepen, and you think I'm a
bull. That's great. Here,reaching into the recesses of his frayed shirt,
here's something that may convince you.And he handed over a tattered newspaper
more than a week old, andpointed to an article on the first page.

(17:47):
There read that Ruth does all thereading for this family. Was Stiles's
muttered rejoinder, Ruth, Oh,Ruth, come here minute and read something
to a pappy. Patterson had notfailed to note during supper that Ruth's Stiles
came close to being a perfect specimenof a mountain flower, rough and undeveloped,

(18:15):
but with more than a trace ofreal beauty, both in her face
and figure. Standing in front ofthe fire, with its flickering light casting
a sort of halo around her,she was almost beautiful, despite her homespun
dress and shapeless shoes. Without aword, the convict handed her the paper

(18:36):
and indicated the article he had pointedout a moment before reward offered for convict's
arrest. She read James Patterson doingtime for murder breaks out of Morgantown,
five hundred dollars for capture prisoners,scaled wall and escaped in face of guards

(18:57):
of fire. Then followed an accountof the escape, the first of its
kind in several years. Even ifyou can't read, said Patterson, there's
my picture under the headline, thepicture they took for the rogue's gallery,
and he pointed to a fairly distinctphotograph which adorned the page. Stiles took

(19:22):
the paper closer to the fire tosecure a better look, glanced keenly at
the convict and extended his hand.Guess that's right, stranger, he admitted,
You're no revenue agent. Later inthe evening, as she lay awake
thinking about the man who had shatteredthe monotony of their mountain life. Ruth

(19:45):
Styles wondered if Patterson had not givenvent to what sounded suspiciously like a sigh
of relief at that moment, butshe was too sleepy to give much thought
to it. And besides, whatif he had head In the other half
of the cabin, divided from thewomen's room only by a curtain of discolored

(20:07):
calico, slept Patterson and Stiles,the former utterly exhausted by his travels,
the ladder resting with keen hair triggerconsciousness of danger always only a short distance
away. Nothing happened, however,to disturb the piece of the Stile's domicile.

(20:29):
Even the hounds slept quietly until therosy tint of the eastern sky announced.
Another day, after breakfast, atwhich the fat back and cornbread were
augmented by a brownish liquid which passedfor coffee, Stiles informed his guests that
he reckoned. He had better stickclose to the house for a few days,

(20:52):
as there was no telling whether somebodymight not be on his trail.
Patterson agreed that this was the properwars and put in his time helping with
the various chores. Incidentally, becominga little better acquainted with Ruth Stiles.
That night, he lay awake forseveral hours, but nothing broke the stillness,

(21:15):
save a few indications of animal lifeoutside the cabin and the labored breathing
of the mountaineer in the bunk belowhim. For three nights nothing occurred,
but on the fourth night, Saturday, supper was served a little earlier than
usual, and Patterson noted just asuspicion of something almost electrical in the air.

(21:41):
He gave no indication of what hehad observed, however, and retired
to his bunk in the usual manner. After an hour or more had elapsed,
he heard Stiles slip quietly off hismattress, and a moment later there
was the guarded scratch of a matchas a lantern was lighted. Suspecting what

(22:03):
would follow, Patterson closed his eyesand continued his deep, regular breathing,
but he could sense the fact thatthe lantern had been swung up to a
level with his bunk, and hecould almost feel the mountaineer's eyes as Stiles
made certain that he was asleep,stifling an impulse to snore or do something

(22:25):
to convince his host that he wasn'tawake. Patterson lay perfectly still until he
heard the door close. Then heraised himself guardedly on one elbow and attempted
to look through the window beside thebunk, but a freshly applied coat of
whitewash prevented that, so he hadto content himself with listening late in the

(22:48):
night, so late that it wasalmost mourning. He heard the sounds of
men conversing in whispers outside the cabin, but he could catch nothing beyond his
own name. Soon Stiles re enteredthe room, slipped into bed, and
was asleep instantly. So things wentfor nearly three weeks. The man who

(23:11):
had escaped from prison made himself veryuseful around the cabin, and almost against
his will, found that he wasfalling a victim to the beauty and charm
of the mountain girl. I mustn'tdo it, he told himself over and
over again. I can't let myself. It's bad enough to come here and

(23:32):
accept the old man's hospitality, butthe girl's a different proposition. It was
Ruth herself who solved the riddle.Some three weeks after Patterson's arrival, they
were wandering through the woods together lookingfor Sassafras roots when she happened to mention
that Stiles was not her own father. He's only my pappy, she said,

(23:57):
my adopted father. My real fatherwas killed when I was a little
girl, shot through the head becausehe had threatened to tell where a still
was hidden. He never did believein Moonshining, said it was as bad
as stealing from the government, sosomebody shot him. And Ma Stiles took

(24:18):
me in cause she said she wassorry for me, even if my pa
was crazy. Do you believe thatMoonshining is right? Asked her companion.
Anything my pa believed was the truth, replied the girl, her eyes flashing.
Everybody round these parts knows that PappyStiles helps run the big still the

(24:41):
revenue officer has been looking for forthe past three years. Two of em
were shot not long ago too.But that don't make it right, specially
when my Pa said it was wrong. What you smilin at? Patterson resisted
an incl nation to tell her thatthe smile was one of relief and replied

(25:03):
that he was just watching the anticsof a chipmunk a little way off.
But that night he felt a thrillof joy as he lay listening as always
in his bunk. Things had beenbreaking rather fast. Of late, the
midnight gatherings had become more frequent,and convinced that he had nothing to fear

(25:25):
from his guest, Stiles was notas cautious as formerly. He seldom took
the trouble to see that the escapedprisoner was asleep, and he had even
been known to leave the door unlatchedas he went out into the night.
That night, for example, wasone of the nights that he was careless,

(25:45):
and as usually happens, he paiddearly for it. Waiting until Stiles
was well out of the house,Patterson slipped silently out of his bunk in
his stocking feet, and inch byinch, reopened the door. Outside.
The moon was shining rather brightly,but save for the retreating figure of the

(26:07):
mountaineer, outlined by the lantern hecarried, there was nothing else to be
seen. Very carefully, Patterson followed, treading softly so as to avoid even
the chance cracking of a twig.Up the mountain side went Stiles, and
some fifty feet behind him crouched theconvict, his faded garments blending perfectly with

(26:32):
the underbrush. After half a mileor so of following a rude path,
Stile suddenly disappeared from view, notas if he had turned a corner,
but suddenly as if the earth hadswallowed him. After a moment, Patterson
determined to investigate. When he reachedthe spot where he had last seen Stiles,

(26:56):
he looked around and almost stumbled againstthe key to the entire mystery.
There in the side of the mountainwas an opening, the entrance to a
natural cave, and propped against itwas a large wooden door, completely covered
with vines. Not a chance offinding it in the daytime unless you knew

(27:18):
where it was, thought the convict, as he slipped silently into the cave.
Less than thirty feet farther was anabrupt turn, and glancing round this,
Patterson saw what he had been lookingfor. A crowd of at least
a dozen mountaineers gathered about a collectionof small but extremely efficient stills. Ranged

(27:44):
in rows. Along the sides ofthe cave were scores of kegs, the
contents of which were obvious from thesurroundings. Pausing only long enough to make
certain of his bearings, the convictreturned to the cabin, and long before
Stiles came back would sound asleep.It was precisely four weeks from the day

(28:07):
when the buzzard noted the man onthe side of the mountain, when a
sheriff's posse from another county, accompaniedby half a dozen revenue officers, rode
clattering through Maymead and on in thedirection of a Stiles cabin. Before the
mountaineers had time to gather, theposse had surrounded the hill Rifles ready for

(28:30):
action. Styles himself met them infront of his rude home, and in
response to his challenge as to whatthey wanted, the sheriff replied that he
had come for a prisoner who hadescaped from Morgantown a month or so before.
Stiles was on the verge of declaringthat he had never heard of the
man, when, to his amazement, Patterson appeared from the woods and surrendered

(28:56):
the instant the convict had gained theshelter of the government gun. However,
a startling change took place. Heheld a moment's whispered conversation with one of
the revenue officials, and the latterslipped him a Sperry Volver from his holster.
Then hands up ordered the sheriff andStyles his hands shot above his head,

(29:21):
leaving three men to guard the cabinand keep watch over old Man's styles,
whose language was searing the shrubbery.The remainder of the posse pushed up
the mountain, directed by the pseudoconvict. It took them some time to
locate the door to the cave,but once inside they found all the evidence

(29:44):
they wanted. Evidence not only directlyindicative of moonshining, but the two badges
which had belonged to Douglas and Wood, and which the mountaineer had kept as
souvenirs of the shooting, thus unwittinglyproviding a firm foundation for the government's case
in court. The next morning,when Commissioner Chambers reached his office, he

(30:07):
found upon his desk a wire whichread Stiles Gang rounded up without the firing
of a single shot, direct evidenceof complicity in Wood's Douglas murders. Secret
still is a secret no longer.The signature to the telegram was James Reynold

(30:30):
alias Jim Patterson. Jim Patterson musedthe Commissioner, where have I heard that
name? Of course, he's theprisoner that broke out of Morgantown. A
couple of months ago. Jimmy suredid lay the local color on thick.
But I inquired, as Quinn paused, don't you consider that rather a dirty

(30:56):
trick on Reynold's part, worming himselfto the confidence of the mountaineers and then
betraying them. Besides, what aboutthe girl? Dirty trick? Snorted the
former Secret Service agent. Would youthink about ethics if someone had murdered two
of the men you work next toin the office, It was the same

(31:18):
thing in this case. Jimmy knewthat if he didn't turn up that gang,
they'd probably account for a dozen ofhis pals, to say nothing of
violating the law every day they lived. What else was there for him to
do? The girl? Oh,Reynolds married her. They sometimes do that

(31:41):
even in real life, you know, as I said, they're living out
in the Middle West. For Ruthdeclared she never wanted to see a mountain
again, and both of them admittedthat it wouldn't be healthy to stick around
within walking distance of Tennessee. Thatmountain crowd is a bad bunch to get
riled, and it must be amost time for Styles and his friends to

(32:04):
get out of jail. It's afunny thing the way these government cases work
out. Here was one that tooknearly three months to solve, and the
answer was the direct result of hardwork and careful planning. While the Trenton
taxicab tangle, for example, wasjust the opposite end of Chapter seven