LOS ANGELES, Sept. 11 – Hippie leader Charles Manson’s girls thought he “knew all and saw all” and on his orders ran around the Spahn ranch nude, a prosecution witness testified today.

Mustachioed motorcyclist Danny DeCarlo, picking his teeth with a matchbook cover, testified that while a member of Manson’s family at the Chatsworth movie ranch, he overheard Manson tell his girls their function in the family.

“He said they should take care of the men — that was their job. That’s their job anyway,” the tough talking DeCarlo said, speaking in staccato tones with mostly one word answers — “Yeah,” “Right,” “Nope” — DeCarlo admitted living at the Spahn ranch from March to late August of 1969.

“I went there to fix a bike,” DeCarlo said.
“A motorcycle?” Deputy District Attorney Vincent Bugliosi asked.
“Right.”
“And you went there to fix it?”
“Right.”
“Did you meet Mr. Manson the first time you went to the Spahn ranch?” Bugliosi asked, attempting to elicit more than a one word answer.
“Right.”
“Did he say anything in respect to the motorcycle?”
“Yeah, it was broke.”
“Did he ask you to fix it?”
“Yeah.”

DeCarlo, who sat with his arms folded and his heavy boots on top of the rail in front of the witness stand, admitted reluctantly that he belonged to a motorcycle club, but refused to admit to the name “Straight Satans.” He said he was asked by Manson to stay.

“He (Manson) said I could have anything I wanted, I could have anything he had. He said I was welcome there.”

Asked about the girls living at the ranch, DeCarlo said: “Charlie said the girls didn’t belong to anybody. If I wanted to make love to them I could.” Manson, DeCarlo testified, wanted his motorcycle club to live at the Spahn ranch but DeCarlo said the rest of the members refused.

“They called themselves a family,” DeCarlo testified, following a series of questions by Bugliosi and subsequent objections by defense attorneys.

“There was money given to us by different people and I’d cash in pop bottles and I had my bike parts which sold,” DeCarlo said in answering questions about how the family supported itself.

“We put all our money together. Everything belonged to everybody. Everybody owned everything.”

Food, he said, was obtained from behind markets on “garbage runs…mostly by the broads.”

When the prosecutor attempted to elicit the fact that Manson was the leader of the family an exchange developed between Manson and Bugliosi.

“You can’t be a leader if you just sit on a mountain,” Manson told the deputy district attorney as he walked to a conference at the bench.

“You’ll have your chance to take the stand, Charlie, in about a month,” Bugliosi said.

Manson, however, refused to stop there and commented: “Yeah, I was waving flags and signing membership cards up there.”

DeCarlo, who was frustrated in his attempts to recount conversations he had with the girls about Manson, said they all “liked him…worshipped him.” Only one comment by Susan Atkins, one of the three girl defendants, was allowed. Miss Atkins was quoted as saying that “Manson knew all and saw all.” Defendants Patricia Krenwinkel and Leslie Van Houten watched quietly.

Asked if the girls walked around the ranch nude, DeCarlo gave his usual one word answer: “Yeah.”

“Did you hear Manson ask them to take their clothes off?” Bugliosi asked.

“Yeah. They took their clothes off anyway. He told them a couple of times, but they took them off without being told. I dug that,” DeCarlo said.

Thursday evidence linking hippie cult leader Charles Manson with the gun used in the murders a the home of pregnant actress Sharon Tate was introduced by the prosecution.

Thomas Walleman, bearded, shaggy-haired former “cowboy” at the Spahn Ranch where the “family” lived, testified that the cult chieftain carried a .22-caliber revolver similar to the one used in the Tate murders when they “visited” a man who had threatened Manson.

Nervously twisting his thumbs, Walleman, said he had been working at the ranch for “a couple of years” when he received a mysterious call. The call, he said, came in August of 1969 and “late at night — around midnight,” and he turned the caller over to Manson.

“He (Manson) said there was a guy coming over to do the whole ranch in, that there was a girl living at the ranch who stole some money, and that he was going to do the whole ranch in for it. To stop that, we went over there,” the tee-shirted witness said nervously.

“Manson asked if I wanted to go with him — over to see the man who was on the phone. He (Manson) was carrying a .22-caliber revolver, with a long barrel.”

Showed the gun used in the Tate murders, Walleman laughed saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that.”

Under questioning by Deputy Dist. Atty. Vincent Bugliosi, the bearded, mustached Walleman added, “It looks like it — it was long…but I’m not sure.” He said he had seen the gun earlier in the hands of Spahn Ranch foreman Randy Starr.

The hippie leader put the gun on the seat of the car between them, Walleman testified, and then drove to Franklin Avenue in Hollywood, stopping at an apartment house where they both got out of the car… “I had put the gun in my belt,” he said, “but Charlie asked for it and I gave it to him.”

They both entered the apartment, the witness said. But at this point Bugliosi ended his questioning. It was learned, however, that Walleman had told investigators that Manson shot the man he found in the apartment, kissed his feet, saying “I love you” and left him for dead.

Walleman, who was greeted with the smiles and giggles of three girl defendants — Leslie Van Houten, Susan Atkins and Patricia Krenwinkel — when he first arrived in the courtroom, was preceded to the witness stand by gun expert Edward C. Lomax.

Lomax, director of marketing for Hi-Standard Gun Manufacturing Co. from 1963 to 1968, told the five-woman, seven man jury the three pieces of broken grip found at the Tate home following the murders belonged to a .22-caliber long-horned revolver manufactured by his former firm.

The revolver, Lomax explained, was initially made for Wyatt Earp, the Dodge City sheriff who gained notoriety in the days of the wild west. Only 2,700 of the 9-cartridge weapons were made. The barrel, he said, measures nine-and-a-half inches.

By MARY NEISWENDER