John Looney was indicted in 1922 for auto theft and then for the murder of William Gabel. But he was nowhere to be found.

In 1923, Rock Island Mayor H.W. Shriver, former police chief Thomas Cox and Lawrence Pedigo were convicted on vice protection conspiracy charges.

The Argus reported in August 1923 that Mr. Looney had established his new headquarters in Ottawa, and it was common knowledge in the community.

```They don't want Looney very bad in Rock Island or they would come here and get him' you hear on every tongue,'' The Argus reported. Looney henchmen also had been seen in Ottawa.

The Argus reported that it was generally known that Mr. Looney and his daughter, Ursula, were living on the Charles Ulrich farm in Dayton Township. Mrs. Ulrich and Mr. Looney's late wife had been close friends, having worked together at a millinery shop.

``Looney has 30 relatives in Ottawa. And he has some close friends who aren't a bit interested in seeing him bound for Rock Island,'' The Argus reported. ``Ottawa is a city of 12,000 people. Everybody knows everyone else. Go to Ottawa, and you're immediately stamped a stranger,'' The Argus explained.

The seclusion of the Ulrich Farm made it an ideal hiding place, The Argus reported.

``Looney can be miles away from the farm before officers get there if he gets a tip,'' it said. A cousin, Jerry Looney, was a desk sergeant at the police station and Mr. Looney also had close friends in the sheriff's department, The Argus added.

Sheriff E.J. Welton told the reporter that he had made two trips to the Ulrich Farm but found ``no trace of Looney.'' Another story told around town was that federal officers visited the farm in the spring of 1923 and actually talked with Looney, but didn't know it was he because he was in disguise and posing as a handyman working at the farm.

``People here think he isn't wanted in Rock Island or he would have been picked up long ago,'' one man told The Argus.

``Looney's capture means more to Rock Island than to Ottawa,'' The Argus reported. ``People laugh and think it's a joke. Looney is an interesting character to them. Why wouldn't he be? He's the only native son of Ottawa who has gone out across the state, created a riot that brought militia to a city and, 10 years later, while active in the very same city, made the streamers in newspapers in practically every city in the nation, creating front-page reading matter for weeks at a time. No other Ottawan has done this,'' The Argus said, letting its anti-Looney prejudice show just a bit.

The paper also reported that Mr. Looney's Ottawa attorney, J.J. Conway, had said that Looney was not afraid of the law and believed that public opinion against him would wane so that some day he could return to Rock Island safely.

John Looney eventually abandoned even Ottawa, going first to Denver and then to New Mexico, he revealed later.

In February 1924, a $2,000 reward was offered for his capture. ``Wanted'' posters were distributed throughout the country. Mr. Looney was found in Belen, N.M., the day before Thanksgiving that year when he was recognized from the poster. He was captured and returned to Rock Island to stand trial.

When it came time to prosecute Mr. Looney, the state attorney general said there wasn't money enough to do it. So local residents and businessmen raised $75,000. Years later, John Hauberg wrote that he was told that the jury pool for the Looney trial consisted of those people who had put up the money. The reasoning was the regular citizens would be too afraid to bring in a guilty verdict against Looney and his gang, but the method also virtually assured a guilty verdict.

On Friday, July 31, 1925, John Looney was convicted on charges of conspiracy to protect gambling, prostitution and illicit liquor traffic in Rock Island. Lawrence Pedigo, a former top associate, was the star witness for the state.

Mr. Pedigo told the court ``how the scheme of tribute and official protection made possible the operation of numerous houses of prostitution, gambling and other resorts; how Looney directed illicit business in his three hotels; how slot machines and punch-board gambling were established and protected and the profits divided; how Thomas Cox, chief of police, shared in the division of the spoils; and finally explaining how he had played his part in the lawless business without receiving more than meager compensation,'' according to Argus accounts.

Mr. Pedigo, who testified he had been Mr. Looney's right-hand man, told the court that ``at one time Tom Cox, chief of police, told Looney to take the whole damn police force and do what you want with it.''

The jury fixed the penalty at one to five years in the state penitentiary, the maximum allowed by law. Judge Nels A. Larson added another 60 days in jail for contempt of court for carrying a gun to the trial and calling Assistant Attorney General Charles W. Hadley a liar.

When the verdict was announced, Mr. Looney was calm, his right hand clenching around the left, The Argus reported. ``There was a slight tightening of the mouth. No move of the body. No flutter of an eyelash. John Looney had been prepared.

``Back of him, the daughter laughed to someone beside her. Then her head was buried in the curve of her arm on the bench. Shortly it was lifted. The mouth was set, but the eyes were dry. She, too, had expected what had come,'' The Argus reported.

On that day, The Argus reprinted an editorial written Oct. 27, 1922. It concluded: ``With his son gone, Looney is deserted save by those underworld thugs he is paying to shield him in his roost under the hill. He is friendless, as he deserves to be.''

His trial for the murder of Mr. Gabel was moved to Galesburg, after Mr. Looney asked for a change of venue. Judge Willis Graham of Monmouth presided.

The prosecutor, Sen. J.J. Barbour, ``enacted one of the most dramatic scenes in the history of Knox County Circuit Court,'' The Argus reported. ``Put Looney in prison for life where he will no longer be a menace to society,'' the senator urged. On his completion, men and women in the courtroom wept and some had to leave, The Argus said.

``Bill Gabel's murder was highly effective, considering its motive,'' the senator said. ``Because it struck terror to the heart of every man, woman and child in Rock Island and, especially, the satellites of John Looney.''

Mr. Pedigo again testified about Looney's operations. Joe ``The Gadget'' Richards, former proprietor of the Rex Hotel, said Connor Looney had told him of plans to get rid of a man. Helen Van Dale told of discussions between the Looneys and police chief Cox where Connor spoke of ``what Gabel was going to get.''

Emeal Davis, a black man who worked for Mr. Looney, told the court he was in an automobile that took Looney to a location behind Gable's saloon about the time of the murder. Louis Ortell said he collected money for Looney and that the notorious Lincoln car was kept in his garage. Mr. Looney denied all the charges against him.

On Dec. 23, 1925, John Looney was found guilty of the murder of Mr. Gabel and sentenced to 14 years in prison. Finally, his grip on Rock Island was released.

``LOONEY GUILTY OF MURDER,'' headlines in The Argus said.

The story lead was simple: ``Guilty of murder -- Fourteen years imprisonment.''

``John Looney sat starkly silent and outwardly unmoved when the jury read that verdict this morning ... His daughter, Ursula Hamblin, beside him at the trial table, sat quiet a moment, then burst into tears and wept continually until she left the courthouse with her father shortly afterward on his way back to jail.''

The jury took just over two hours to find him guilty, but several hours longer to fix his imprisonment at 14 years.

The Argus editorial that day was simply titled: NOW WE KNOW WHO KILLED BILL GABEL.

``The conviction of John P. Looney is the best Christmas present that justice could have presented to Rock Island and its neighboring cities,'' The Argus editorial said.

John Looney was sent to prison in Joliet, where he served 8 1/2 years of his 14-year sentence for murder and five-year sentence for conspiracy. He was one of the first prisoners sent to the new Statesville prison, while those convicted of the Market Square shooting went to the old prison in Joliet.

In February 1927, his conviction was upheld. In January 1929, Gov. Len Small ignored his plea for a pardon.

``By prison records he was a good prisoner. He tended to chickens and did light work, but spent a lot of time in the hospital (suffering from tuberculosis). He was also a jailhouse lawyer and helped a lot of other prisoners,'' said historian and researcher Richard Hamer, Rock Island.

On April 7, 1934, at age 68, he was released to his daughter, Ursula, for health reasons. He never returned to Rock Island.

``Ursula once vowed to a local girlfriend that, once they left Rock Island, no one would know about them,'' said Mr. Hamer.

John Looney died in a TB sanitarium in El Paso, Texas, in 1947, according to Mr. Hamer. The hospital later burned and all the records were destroyed, so there is no record of where he was buried. His daughter, Ursula, died later in Austin, Texas, but there is no record of her burial either, said Mr. Hamer.

Robert Emmet, a rebel who fought for a free Ireland and who Mr. Looney had idealized in a play years before, was buried in an unmarked grave. ``He said it would remain a mystery until Ireland was free, and I wonder if maybe Looney felt the same,'' said Mr. Hamer.

A good clue is that his parents have no marker in Ottawa. His son and wife are buried in unmarked graves at Chippiannock Cemetery in Rock Island. He and his daughter, Ursula, may be also.

``That (his burial site) is a secret, and let it be so,'' said Mr. Hamer.

It took Rock Island decades to rebuild the damage to the community and its reputation that John Looney caused. The release of ``Road To Perdition'' will refocus attention on this era of city history. It also will renew the belief that Mr. Looney and Al Capone locked horns during the Looney reign of terror in Rock Island.

``The tie-in to Capone is probably the biggest myth associated with Looney,'' said Mr. Hamer. At the time the Looney gang controlled Rock Island, Capone was just a kid. Looney did deal with Capone's boss, Johnny Torrio, the godfather of Chicago gangsters, but never with Capone, said Mr. Hamer.

``In all my research, I have only found one mention of Al Capone being in Rock Island,'' said Mr. Hamer. ``Al Capone was sent here once by Johnny Torrio in about 1919 or '20. He was 19 years old. Looney chased him out of his office. Torrio had to watch him (Capone) because he was a hot head, but Capone was frightened of Looney. He came back and told Torrio he was afraid of the Irishman because he was nuts. That is the only connection between the two I can find.''

Mr. Torrio handled all the dealings with Looney, Mr. Hamer said, including getting prostitutes to use in his own brothels. Mr. Looney had more than 300 girls managed by his madam, Helen Van Dale. ``He had the best because she treated them right and paid them well. Torrio took only the best,'' said Mr. Hamer.

Torrio's and Looney's gangs had parties together at Bel Air, Looney's home on the Rock River, with cock fights in the barn, shooting matches in the yard and drunken orgies in the house.

``But it wasn't Capone's gang that was in Rock Island, it was Torrio's,'' said Mr. Hamer.

None of the Capone myths he has heard can be verified, said Mr. Hamer. He explained that Torrio had a ``west end man'' named Eddie Vogel who lived in Davenport. Ralph Capone, Al's brother, who looked a lot like him, was here several times to visit Vogel ``and because he was in with the Belgians and the booze trade.'' That might be the source of some of the Al Capone stories, Mr. Hamer speculated.

Al Capone did not come to power until after 1925, when he took over Torrio's gang. Looney's reign was already over, but don't be surprised if the movie starts a whole new round of John Looney myths.

But the real story? You read it here.

Roger Ruthhart is managing editor of The Rock Island Argus.