Two Men Asked to Test a Seattle Schooner. Then They Tried to Kill Its Captain.

An unidentified man made a determined effort to murder Jud La Moure, captain of the schooner Success, near West Point. La Moure was struck on the head three times with a lead bar and then driven toward the cabin, where he grabbed a revolver and covered his assailants. After a parley, during which the men said they had intended to knock him insensible on the boat, the captain drove them into the dingy at the point of a gun and forced them to escape. Mr. La Moure reached the city four hours later in a badly battered condition.

The schooner Success is of six tons burden and had been tied up at the wharf for some time. Attached to her was a sign saying she was for sale. About 10 o'clock in the morning a rather coarsely dressed man with a mustache, dark complexion and gray clothes walked into the Gordon Hardware Company's store and asked to see Charles Sheffield, a salesman who was half-owner of the vessel. He talked a long time about the boat and intimated that he wished to become a purchaser. His questions touched every detail of the craft, down to the smallest article aboard. Later in the day he came again and continued his questions, giving Mr. Sheffield a sort of brief biography of himself. He said he was a stranger hailing from the Atlantic coast. He claimed to have once lost a boat in Chesapeake Bay, and volunteered the information that he had been shipwrecked on the British Columbia coast three weeks before. Now he was in the city looking for a craft that would suit him. Mr. Sheffield persuaded him to see Mr. Judson La Moure, the other owner of the schooner, and the latter took him down to the vessel to inspect her. The man was anxious to have her sailing qualities tested, so Mr. La Moure agreed to take him out the following morning.

According to agreement the stranger, accompanied by a small, well-dressed man of genteel appearance, met Mr. La Moure at the dock at the appointed time. John Vail, who roomed at the Central, at the corner of Virginia and Front streets, was to accompany the party but did not arrive in time, and the three started out. There was a brisk breeze blowing, and the schooner bowled along over the rippling water at a good rate of speed. The course was across the Sound to Blakeley and then in a line for West Point. It was about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, when the schooner was a short distance south of the point, that Captain La Moure began to think it was time to start back toward the city. The day had passed pleasantly and the strangers had acted like gentlemen. Without any apparent warning, however, the big stranger took a seat on the cabin back of La Moure and the little man stationed himself some distance in front. The schooner is built peculiarly; her cabin is in the stern and is entered by folding doors. La Moure looked at his gold watch, and as he put it back in his pocket remarked: 'I guess we'll turn around here.'

At that moment he was struck a stunning blow from behind under the left ear. Thinking it might have come from the boom, he glanced up. Almost instantly he was dealt another stunning blow in the same place. Dazed, he arose, turning his head to see the perpetrator. As he did so he saw the uplifted hand of the big stranger holding a sounding lead about a foot long and weighing fully fifteen pounds. The arm descended and La Moure warded a terrific blow on the shoulder from the man, who was now coming at him with murderous intent.

La Moure dropped the tiller and sprang to his feet, fully realizing that he was at the mercy of desperate men. The big man thought he was going to jump overboard and yelled to his confederate: 'Don't let him jump overboard, don't let him jump overboard.' The little man, however, instead of following the victim, grabbed the tiller and kept her on course. La Moure, facing the man with the lead pin and expecting to receive his deathblow at any minute, begged for his life. He pleaded with the men to spare him, instead of taking him defenseless and killing him like a dog. The big man, seeing that his plans had miscarried, told him gruffly to go into the cabin. La Moure started to obey, and when he reached the door the big fellow, still murderous, came after him with the leaden weapon. In getting into the cabin La Moure stumbled, but as he went through the door he stuck his hand under the pillow of his berth and pulled out his .38-caliber double-action revolver. The would-be murderer had no time to check his steps and was within a few feet of La Moure when the latter leveled the gun full in his face. The little man at the tiller, seeing what had taken place, yelled out with alarm in his voice: 'Don't shoot, for God's sake, don't shoot.' La Moure had his finger pressing the trigger, but with remarkable presence of mind, although still dazed, refrained from shooting.

The big man took hold of the door and sprang out of the cabin, slamming the double doors behind him. He put his back against them and thus held the captain inside for the time being. La Moure was now trying to gain time. Through a small port hole he watched his enemies and heard them discussing what they should do. They realized that La Moure had turned the tables on them and that it was too late either to get out of the scrape as best they could or to gain the upper hand again by treachery. La Moure finally asked them what they proposed to do. The big fellow replied: 'You have beaten us at our own game, and we give up. Now I will tell you what we intended doing with you. After we got the boat, we intended to hit you insensible and, when opportunity offered, put you ashore.' La Moure realized that he held the upper hand. One of the scoundrels had the audacity to ask La Moure to throw his revolver overboard, saying he did not want any shooting. The men were still hopeful of their purpose and said that if La Moure did not do as they requested they would scuttle the boat. La Moure was equal to the emergency and yelled back: 'I will permit you to work for your lives. Get into the dory and pull for the shore.'

The men were about to follow the command but replied that they were afraid La Moure would shoot them down as soon as they left the schooner's side. La Moure then promised to refrain from shooting and promised to let them escape after landing. The rascality of the men then showed itself in their demands for money. La Moure told them he had none. 'Then,' said the big fellow, who was the leader in everything, 'your gold watch will do.' The absurdity of the demand made La Moure angry, and, as a steamer was now approaching, he felt that he could be arbitrary. 'Get into that boat and make for the shore,' he yelled, and the men for once obeyed his commands with alacrity. As the captain once more got hold of the tiller he observed that there were men on the point, and, directing the course of the schooner toward the shore, hailed them. A Swede came out to them in a boat, and the captain told him the story. The Swede was for lynching the scoundrels, but La Moure said he had promised to let them escape and did not want them injured.

After the would-be murderers landed, La Moure got his dory and started back for this city. He arrived at 7 o'clock in the evening and went home to his friends, a bruised and battered specimen of humanity. When he got up yesterday morning the back of his head looked as if someone had built an addition to it. His shoulder was badly bruised, and he felt pretty sore, but, as one of his friends remarked, 'He was still in the ring, although slightly disfigured.' La Moure is well known in the city, having been in the baggage department of the Northern Pacific here for over two years.