St. Louis Frank, in another part of the jail, got a worse beating than I did.
From that day on St. Louis Frank smiled no more. He became snarly, short spoken, and ugly. We got our money and parted. He went out on the road, "bull simple," simple on the subject of shooting policemen. The stories told about him are almost unbelievable. Years later I saw him in the San Francisco county jail waiting trial for the murder of a police officer in Valencia Street. The day he was sent to San Quentin where he was hanged, he sang out to me, 'So long, Blacky. If I could have got Corbett I wouldn't care.'"
Jack Black, You Can't Win