If you struggle to fall asleep, then you may want to try my sleep whispers podcast.

The problem may be your loud neighbors, or maybe there's restless squirrels living inside your

brain. I can't sedate your neighbors, but I can tranquilize your brain squirrels with my gentle

whispering. Check out my sleep whispers podcast and I will whisper you to sleep with bedtime stories,

guided meditations, fun trivia questions, and curious Wikipedia articles.

Just go to sleepwhispers.com or search for sleep whispers in your podcast app.

Squirrels be going down tonight.

And unlikely outlaw. I'm Jason Horton. I'm Rebecca Leib. And this is Ghost Town.

On a morning in May 1991, a 10-gallon hat-wearing, sun-glassed, beer-bellied,

bearded individual exited in 1975 to door Pontiac Grand Prix to enter the American federal

bank building in Irving, Texas. The person stepped into the bank's lobby and headed towards

the counter where a young female teller was smiling cheerfully. Hello, sir, the teller said,

how may I help you? The bearded man slipped the teller a note. This is a bank robbery at red.

Give me your money. No marked bills or die packs. The stunned teller handed over a stack of cash

from her drawer. The robber nodded, stuck the money in a satchel, and walked out of the bank.

A seamless robbery with a perpetrator vanishing into the afternoon. This was the start of the

near flawless run of large-scale bank robberies that occurred between 1991 and 1992. They called the

robber Cowboy Bob because of the 10-gallon hat he always wore, coolly alluding cops for years,

and then after serving time having one more wild ride, this is the legendary tale of Dallas bank

robber Cowboy Bob. So Cowboy Bob, again, I keep saying that name. It feels comical, but it is

kind of endearing too, was always calm, completely unarmed, polite, always almost completely silent.

He avoided security cameras, checked each bill for marks or die packs, die packs are those small,

...