Democratic Sentinel, Volume 21, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 November 1897 — JUST IN TIME FOR DINNER. [ARTICLE]

JUST IN TIME FOR DINNER.

ASIDE from some notetl criminal prosecutions which I conducted several years ago, the incident which I aui about to relate was one of the most interesting chapters in my professional life. It had been a stormy November day. During the morning the rain had come down in torrents. Toward noop the water began to crystallize as it descended, and all afternoon the snow had been blowing and drifting iu a very uncomfortable way.' It grew dark early. Perhaps it was because of this that J decided to go home an hour earlier than usual. I say perhaps, because I have always thought that providence had something to do with my going out on to the street a-t that moment. Passing up Broadway I turned into Fourteenth street to cross to the elevated railroad station. Near the corner I encountered a crowd of men and boys, in the center of which stood a bluecoat with a prisoner. Standing on tip-toe, I saw that the prisoner was a young lad with a remarkably handsome face and gentlemanly manner. A call had been sent in for a patrol wagon, and the policeman was waiting thp response. The hoy looked thoroughly frightened. As I reached the spot be was protesting his innocence and begging to he released. “I tell you honestly, sir, it is a mistake. I know nothing of the jewelry. I am innocent, sir; I am, truly.” “That’s all right, you young rascal,” the policeman replied. "Nobody that’s arrested ever steals anything. But when we get our clutches on ’em they don’t generally turn out such innocents as they claim.” Just then the patrol wagon dashed up, two officers alighted, and the boy was quickly hustled up the steps of the wagon and driven off. “What station?” I asked as they drove off toward the south. There was no reply, but by walking rapidly in the direction taken by the officers I soon brought up at the Mercer street station, where, as an attorney, I soon obtained an interview with the lad whose face had so greatly Interested me. When l was shown to his cell he was weeping bitterly, pud appeared to be in absolute dsepair. “I saw jou at the patrol box,” I said by way of introduction, “aad thought J would like to find out a little more abopt your case. I am a lawyer; and if ypp arp innocent, as J think you piU st be, f will see what can be done to get yop opt pf this. My name is Lawson, what is yours?” “Frank Orr,” he said promptly, as a wave of gratitude and hope swept oyer his face. Then he added; '‘This is ypry kind of you, sir. The whole miserable business is a mistake. I never took a bit of the jewelry; not a bit.” Then I saf down on the cos beside Frank and a6ked him to tell me a)l aboijt his trouble.

His home was in Western Vermont, he said, and he had been in New York about a year. He had come here to get a start in the world. While his success had not been nil that his fauey used to paint it, yet, considering the hard times, be had done very well. Once a month he had been able to seud a little money to his mother, who needed his help sorely. For six months past be had been employed in the shop of a manufacturing jeweler. That day twenty valuable rings and some other articles had disappeared from a showcase. They were missed just after the noon hour. During that hour the workmen were always out at lunch, and Frank and another young man named Lercb were usually in charge. But to-day Lercb was sick at home, and Frank was in the shop alone. “Did you see no one about the premises during that hour?” I asked. “No one but Hogan, the janitor.” “Was he in the room?” “No, I am sure he was not.” “Did you see him at all between twelve nnd one?” “Y ( es,'' said Frank, “he came to the rear door and called me to go back and look at A team of fine horses in the alley.” .“How long were you out of the room?” 7 asked. “Not more than two minutes.” “Could a person come from the front Jiall during that time without your knowing it?” “No, indeed,” sgid young orr , earnestly; ■•‘7 lacked the dpor before 7 ran out to look at tfie horses.” ’’Then if the jewelry was taken while *OU were in churge it «ould have been

taken by no one but yourself,” I said somewhat severely to see what effect the conclusion would hare on the prisoner. “It looks bad for me, sir, especially as one of the rings was found in my overcoat pocket.” "That last fact counts for nothing,” I remarked, and added: "Tell me candidly, Orr, have you no theory upon which the thing can be explained V” “No, sir, 1 have not; it seems very strange; I can’t understand it,” he said, his voice trembling perceptibly, and his eyes again filling with tears. “It is a trifle mysterious, my young friend,” I said, rising. “But I somehow believe you are not the guilty party. I will ask the sergeant to give you a more comfortable place than this for the night. In the morning I will see you again.” When the case came up at the Jefferson Market police court next day I secured an adjournment. Then I weut to work vigorously to hunt down the thief. I started out on the theory of Frank’s innocence. Then, it was clear that the janitor could not himself have stolen the goods. He might have had an accomplice, however, who may have been concealed somewhere in the room, and carried off the jewelry while Frank was taking his two-minute view of the horses in the alley. This Aief might have dropped the ring into Frank’s

pockpt so as tp point suspicion toward its owner. My theory proved correct. A guarded talk wjtl) soine people living near the home of Hogan, the janitor, made me acquainted with his character and habits. What I learned .was not to his credit. I also came into possession of the fact that he had been seen the previous night at a Bowery saloon in company with a fellow named Tingle, who had done time at Sing Sing, and who was now under surveilance by the police. I went to the saloon named, but learned that the men had only been there a few minutes earlier in the evening. ‘‘They had no money and were sober,” the bartender explained, “so guess they ain’t been into no crooked work of late.” The fact that they were not spending money made me believe that if these men were really the thieves they had not yet sold their plunder. So I decided upon a bold movement. Securing the aid of a trusty dptectivp who had once served me in somewhat pqmlar ease, J. went to Hogan’s house. A yed-facpd woman admitted us. “Mr. Tingle left some rings and othpy jewelry with you for safe-keeping,” I said in confident tone, purposely refraining from giyiug any hint that suspicion also rpsted upon her husband. “l'hp propprty is not Mr. Tingle’s, and if yop wish to save yourself from trouble you ■jyill .dpliver it up to this officer at opce,” I added. Thp wpman turnpd pale and hesitated. A threat to place her under arrest brought her to a decision, and a parcel containing the plunder was placed in my bantl.. At the police court npxt day Hogan and Tingle werp cpnfrpntpd with the evidence pf their crime, and Frank Orr’s eyes dancpd with joy when thp judge expressed regret that sp serious a mistake had been madp, and tpld him he >yas at liberty. It was ppw pppn pf the day bpfore Thanksgiving day—the day toward which Frank Orr had bppn looking forward joyfully for many weeks. But since his unjust arrest he had abandoned all hope of going, and a message had been wired to his mother, announcing that unexpected circumstances would prcvcut his being there, “Now, off for Vermont,” I said as we came out of the court room together. “Yon will pot have much time to lose, but you can make your train and reach home in time for dinner yet, Gome back as soon os yon can,” I said, when we parted, “and come straight to my office. No more work in a jewelry shop for you, Orr.”

In this little sketch I have told you of the remarkable circumstances under which I became acquainted with my present law partner. The neat sign over our office door now reads: ******».*«•*• * LAWSON & ORB, * • • * ATTORNEYS. * ************ Frank -Orr has spent many pleasant Thanksgiving days since he came to Now York, but he still declares that none have been half so delightful as the day he rumbled over the snow-clad hills of Vermont, ran up the old lane under the apple trees, greeted old Nero with a shout that woke the echoes, and burst into the dear old home just in time for dinner.—Lawrence I*w#on-