Benedict G. Fischer, St. Paul Police Patrolman

Lee Harris and Henry Heinbaugh were renewing their old friendship in Fort Dodge, Iowa, a city of about 17,000 souls including Harris’s mother and brother. Heinbaugh had also brought Robert Cecil Warren – “R.C.” to his friends – into their conversation. These two men had met in Emmetsberg, Iowa. Heinbaugh was working there as a barber, a trade he learned from his father, and Warren was working there as a painter, a trade he, too, learned from his father.

These young men had much in common. All were born to working class parents in some of Iowa’s countless small, rural towns. Heinbaugh’s mother died when he was three years of age. Harris’s parents were separated. Warren’s father had left the family, his whereabouts unknown. They were all about the same age: Harris may have been younger by a year or two, the other two were 22. They were a bit farther apart in height – Heinbaugh was 5’ 4” and the other two topped out at 5’ 8”. All of these men had completed grade school but went no farther in pursuing an education, yet none seemed particularly unintelligent.

A casual observer meeting them in a public setting might not notice anything unusual about them. People who weren’t acquainted with them wouldn’t necessarily guess the dealings they harbored in their pasts. All had their first run-ins with the law when they were 15 or 16 years old. Harris was acquitted of a larceny charge in Omaha, Nebraska when he was 16. He was also arrested there another time, held in jail for six days, and then released. Heinbaugh was first arrested in Council Bluffs, Iowa at age 15, but was released. Warren served 1½ years in the State Industrial School in Eldora, Iowa for having stolen property in his possession, and was released in 1912.

For Harris and Heinbaugh, criminal behavior did not end with those juvenile arrests. Harris was on parole from the state prison in Anamosa, Iowa where he served 4½ years for burglary. He was paroled on May 4, 1917. His buddy, Heinbaugh, was on parole from that same prison where he had served an indeterminate sentence for breaking and entering. Received into Anamosa prison on April 15, 1914, Heinbaugh was paroled a short seven weeks after Harris.

All three wanted to hide their identities. They had a lot to hide. Warren went by the alias Joseph Jackson. Harris assumed the names Jim Davis and Richard Morgan. If the number of aliases translates into extent of criminal behavior, or at least intent to deceive, Heinbaugh was the most troubled. His aliases included the names Dick Trevylyn, Dick Kravelyn, John Finch, H.E. Cable, and Stephen Van Doren.

When they were together, it is unlikely that their conversations drew much attention because these men knew how to deceive. They probably kept their voices down and their faces expressionless, with Harris greeting only people he knew well. They may have glanced around to make sure no one was overhearing their conversation, but that didn’t stop them from hatching their plot to go north to the Twin Cities. None of them had much money. They planned to rob people in St. Paul so they could get enough cash to have a good time in Minnesota or even take a side trip into Wisconsin.

They knew the implications of what they were doing. For Heinbaugh and Harris, it meant they were violating stipulations of their parole. For Warren, it meant leaving his young, pregnant wife whom he had married just last year. For all three, it meant going farther down the road of returning to prison – if they got caught. Not getting caught must have played a paramount role in their plan.