On the night of Dec. 19, 1897, police finally captured 26-year-old John Axtel Ross, one of Warwick’s most determined thieves. John had previously been hauled into court on numerous occasions, charged with stealing. Twice, he had been found guilty and was sentenced to prison.

In 1891, the deeply troubled John had fallen in love. The object of his affection was Caroline Bailey, the 22-year-old daughter of Deacon Henry Bailey of the Natick Baptist Church. When Caroline did not show interest in a relationship, John broke into her family’s home while they were at church and hid in her bedroom. Later, after the family had returned, Caroline was preparing for bed when she saw the intruder. She screamed hysterically and her father raced to the room to see what was wrong. John pulled out a revolver, aimed it at the deacon’s face and threatened to shoot him.

The two men wrestled and John ran from the house. After he was captured two days later, Henry decided not to file charges as he did not want any bad publicity attached to his family. The State, however, brought their own charges and, on Sept. 28 of that year, John pleaded guilty to breaking and entering a dwelling house and committing assault with a dangerous weapon. He was sentenced to serve 11 months at the Providence County Jail.

The son of Samuel Axtel Ross, a clerk for B.B. & R. Knight’s store, and Martha Elliott, John had buried his 45-year-old mother after a brief illness on Nov. 8, 1895. A couple of weeks after his mother’s death, his father opened a cheap cash store in Pawtuxet but his grief left him incapable of handling the responsibility and John began running it for him.

On Dec. 1 of that year, Samuel attended church and then disappeared from town. Everyone knew how distraught he was over his loss and a search was made. When no one was able to locate him, John decided to close down the store for good. On Jan. 11, 1896, Catherine Holland, an employee at the Hopkins Hotel on Westminster Street in Providence, went to check one of the rooms at 10:00 that morning and was unable to gain entry. Samuel had checked into the hotel on Dec. 28 and had been acting strangely since he arrived. Now he lay dead on the floor from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the right temple. Among his belongings was a letter addressed to his own father, its contents no longer known.

Now, with both his parents dead, John inherited their estates and lived lavishly in the short time it took him to spend nearly every dime at roadhouses along the New London Pike. After the inheritance was depleted, many people questioned how he always still had a good deal of money on him despite being unemployed. It was quietly assumed he was involved in a series of unsolved robberies in the Pawtuxet area.

John was arrested again in early 1897 and, as he was being placed in the sheriff’s carriage, pulled a bottle of chloroform from his pocket and smashed it against the vehicle. At the Apponaug police station, he was searched and found to be carrying a loaded revolver, a box of cartridges, a big sponge and a razor. Charged with carrying concealed weapons, he was sent to the State Farm for six months. Following his release from the State Farm, he secured a job on the farm of Charles Jennison, located between Apponaug and Natick. All too soon, he quit and, in the days that followed, the barn was broken into and several robes and blankets were stolen.

John was suspected to be the thief and police tracked him down. They recovered the stolen goods but he got away and stayed out of sight for two months. Finally, that winter night of 1897, an officer saw him on Natick Hill and arrested him without any argument. The town’s most determined thief headed back to the jail cells he had come to know so well.

Kelly Sullivan is a Rhode Island columnist, lecturer and author.