Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 132, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 June 1911 — Page 2

Under the Rose

Investigator

gtflM■■■*«| am about to kill myself— I You will find my body in 111 room eight-forty-six, DelI I mont hotel—ls you listen r"J* , 1 ywu’ll hear the shotBIBSII This waa 1116 faleful lyMgl message that went buzzing over the telephone ItKt I wlr * s late on a f °Ksy. K yK'I drizzly night In April. CmJEmml The intending suicide had i % oalled up police headquarters—this waa in the old Mulberry eet days—and the lieutenant at t end of the circuit; after waiting seconds, distinctly heard the ringing report of a firearm, g that the unknown speaker had bits word and mint have purleft the receiver off the hook, illence! Instead of calling up the office of tie Hotel Delmont—one of the newer tyrenty-story hootelries near the Grand Central depot, Finney Valentine leap* est Into his Official motor and dashed off uptown, hoping to be first on the fldld before the hotel people had a chance to muddle things. ilhls desire was realised. Apparently no alarm had been given or heard from the eighth floor by guests, chambermaids, or bellhops—which perhaps was not surprising considering the ■ise of the hotel and the fact that the location is n very noisy one so far as street sounds are concerned. Upon locating room number eight-four-six—the door had to be forced, the key being on the inside and the eafety-bolt also shot—here is what Finney saw and found: There were two rooms and a bath In the suite—sitting room and sleeping chamber. The telephone waa in the tenner, and sure enough the receiver dangled Idly by its cord. Both of these rooms were apparently empty and In good order—no furniture disarranged, nor had the bed been disturbed. A suitcase lay open on the table, but the articles therein —shirts, collars, underwear—were neatly disposed. On the dresser In the bedroom were the usual toilet articles of a man of some means—razors, silverbacked military brushes, shaving mug, hand glass, etc., and a traveling -clock.

• Only a couple of searching glances were required to make this brief inventory- What they were looking for lay on the floor of the tiled bathroom, Just inside the door —the body of a man In the prime of life, attired in evening clothes, lying huddled on one side just as he had fallen. Loosely gripped in the fingers of the right hand—doubled under the body—was a six-chambered bulldog revolver with one cartridge exploded. In the right temple was a round hole from which the blood was still ooslng to a tiny pool staining the whiteness of the tesselated floor. The eyes were staring wide open with a look of sudden horror or surprise.

In the man's pockets were a small roll of bills and some silver amounting to twenty dollars and forty cents, a watch and fob, and In the breast pocket of the dinner-coat a flat wallet or bill-book—absolutely empty! The hotel register showed the name “William Hardester, Washington;” he had arrived the day before. There were no means of entering room eight-four-six save the door —no transom, no flre-escapes; the windows were closed save that of the bath-room, which opened on an inner court, with the pavement ninety odd feet below. Apparently the case was one of suicide—so said Dr. Lettish, the house physician; yet the trained eye and mind of Inspector Valentine espied one salient facts which pointed In another direction. To him it looked like a case of murder, with either robbery or revenge or both for the object Yet, per contra, there was the self-convl<:ting telephone message; the closed room locked and bolted on the inside with no other means of exit save for a bird, a sheer drop from the wlndpws to the street of nigh a hundred feet. with not enough foothold by way of eomioe or ledge for a human fly; and lastly, the total absence of all Signs of a straggle. At first glimpse the tragedy indicated a care fully-planned scheme for self-destruc-•*But,” said Valentine to Lieutenant Kettle, "there are a few other facts to lie taken Into consideration. In the v flng place, William Hardester nevdjf Jfaned that shot himself.” "Nq, There was a total absence of powdew parks a* bis white dressshirt, proving that the pistol was die charged from a distance of several fettle nodded. "Next, the pistol was not tightly grasped In the dead man’s hand. Some effort had been made, after he had fallen in his disks, to twine the fingers round the butt so as to convey -TT»' mtmkrar entered suite ‘■lght '■ s; r, - -■ -■

Over the ’Phone

By FREDERIC REDDALE

(Copyright by W. O. CUpmu)

four-six through the window of the bathroom, and went out the same way!” “Oh, come now, chief! Why, be must have used an aeroplane or a balloon!" "Not necessarily. A light steel ladder would have turned the trick. There were marks on the sills where the paint had been rubbed off." “Such a ladder must have been swung from the floor above, then," commented Kettle. y "Precisely. It was a foggy, rainy night, remember, and there was not much risk of being seen from the court. Our search begins from that room in the Delmont which is immediately over Hardester's. All those floors are similar In plan. Then find out who was registered from that suite on the ninth floor last night or yesterday. There’s your starter.” "But what about the ’phone from Hardester?” objected the other. “A blind. Hardester never sent it He had been drugged or was slightly intoxicated before he was shot —the doctor will swear to that; the man who killed him sent the message and fired the shot you heard, leaving the receiver hanging on purpose with the circuit open.” Kettle rose to go. “Anything else?" he queried.

•"Ibis," rejoined the chief, displaying an oblong piece of blotting paper, fresh- save for one set of marks in reverse where it had been used to Mot an addressed envelope. “I found this on the table In Hardester’s sit-ting-room; the writing is the same as that on the hotel register. Hold It up to thq mirror yonder and see what you make of it.” Lieutenant Kettle did as he was bidden and uttered a startled exclamation. “Why, it’s plain enough,” he read: ‘Miss Greta Sanders, Detroit, Mich.!”* "Exactly,” commented Valentine, “and there’s the woman in the case.” “Gad, Chief!" exclaimed Kettle in admiration, "you beat us all!” Valentine let the compliment pass. "Did you look at Hardester’s signature on the register?” he asked. "I did. He hailed from Washington, I noticed." The inspector nodded. "Which one? There are upward of forty % Washingtons in the United States.” “Well, It’ll take a little time, of course, but we ought to be able to locate him if that’s his home town.” “It’s done already, I suspect,” returned Valentine. “Miss Sandars lives in Detroit Just consult that postoffice directory and see if there isn’t a Washington in the state of Michigan." “There is,” announced Kettle. “I thought so,” said the chief quietly. “Now, if you and I were a couple of book detectives, we’d sit down, right here, with these facts in our possession, and by some mysterious psychological process reason out the whole case without leaving headquarters, then go out and nab our man. But being merely ordinary policemen we’ve got to work in a different way. So Fm going to start the hunt in Detroit Here’s what I want you to do: Go up to the Delmont, find out who occupied the suite over Hardester’s; if he’s there still —you’ll find he isn’t —don’t let him get away. But you can learn his name and description, where he came from and where he went, perhaps. Meet me with that information at Grand Central in an hour."

Valentine received Kettle’s information at the gate of the concourse. "Name’s 'Jacob Fendereon, city;' arrived yesterday noon, carrying a Cross bag; left last night by the midnight train south over the Pennsy; dapper little fellow, wiry and active; wears a cane-colored beard and moustache trimmed in French fashion; was never at hotel -previously.” The two sleuths walked down the platform. "I’ll bet that midnight train business was a bluff,” said the chief; "it’s even money he’s in the city yet; better round up all the hotels in town — half a dozen men can do It —and wire me results. If you find Brother Fen-der-son arrest him on suspicion.” The train began to move, and with a farewell wave the great inspector was off on the long trip to Detroit, where he hoped to get behind the scenes and learn the motive for Hardester’s taking off. Within twenty-four hours Kettle wired the chief: “Penderson arrested. Denies Identity. Refuses to talk.” They bad rounded up the suspect by description over in Brooklyn, at the Lorraine, where he was registered under an alias. Meantime Valentine was hot on the trail In Detroit What measure of success he attained may be judged from the sequel. On being confronted with the chief in person at headquarters, Fenderson, alias Goldberry, preserved a. stubborn silence. He would neither admit nor deny, and on being taxed with Hardester's murder, he smiled scornfully. The man’s nerve was superb. “We’ll break him!” declared the Inspector, clamping his jaw. “If ever the ‘third degree* was Justifiable it's In dealing

with a cold-blooded sooundrel like this one." - -ip? ’■ ■ V; Many sensational weird and lurid stories have been Written and told about New York's mysterious “third degree,” most of them wide of the ttetb and nearly all matting in decrying “police brutality.“ But the fact is well known to those wise In such matters that the dread “third degree” is more a mental than a physical ordeal, to be feared'* only by those actually guilty of a given crime. “On the carpet,” face to face with Finney Valentine, In that dreaded Inside room whose very walls were mute witnesses to divers horrid criminal narratives, the quasi Jacob Fenderson, alias Goldberry, preserved his hitherto cool and even jaunty demeanor, though the smile on his Ups faded at the first two words uttered by the chief: “Alec Freeman, alias Fenderson, alias Goldberry, you are charged with the murder of your step-brother, William Hardester, on the night of April tenth. What about It?” You’ve woke up the wrong passenger. Besides, you can’t prove it!” “We’ll see,” answered Valentine. "Listen. Your real name, as I said, is Alexander Freeman, born near Detroit thirty-two years ago. Your mother was a widow when Bhe married John Hardester. Your step-father treatetd you almost as his own son; but naturally Billy Hardester was the favorite. When the old man died he left you ten thousand dollars in cash, which you promptly 'blew in.’ In fact.

you were an all-around bad lot from your boyhood up, and I guess you broke your mother’s heart. “When your money was gone, you tried to sponge on Hardester, hut after a while he refused to be bled any longer. Meantime both of you had fallen in love with the same girl —Miss Greta Sandara. She turned you down and accepted Billy, your rival. "Once more you attempted to extort money from Hardester, but he wouldn’t give up. Then you vowed vengeance—not only to him personally, but to Miss Sandars. When he left for New York you followed by the next train, tracked him to his h 6 tel, and engaged the suite right over his head. Yours was a pretty slick scheme. When you ran with that circus back In the nineties you became something of an athlete and your nerves were always' in pretty good shape. “By means of a rope ladder you lowered yourSblf out of the bathroom window to the floor below, probably Intending to do for your victim out of hand. But luck was with you for once; Billy Hardester had drank deeply at dinner, and was pretty far gone in liquor when yon entered his apartment There you stood and gloated pitilessly over the nearly helpless man—your step-brother. Seeing his condition, a variation of your hellish plot entered Your evil brain. You decided that you would try to make out a case of suicide. So you sent that fake message over the 'phone and then deliberately shot him down In

eold bleed, afterward putting your own pistol la the dead man’s fingers where he lay! Then you robbed hl» wallet of aevantl hundred dollars, tor Billy Hardener alwiys ireht well heeled. Returning to your room by the nay you came, within an hour you left ..the Belmont, saying you were going south over the Penney. There’s where you made your first blunder. Like many another criminal you thought you'd stay around a, bit is see what would happen, feeling certain you'd made a clean get-away. Just what you did with the ladder —steel or rope—l don't need to know; probably you tossed It orer board as you crossed the bridge. That’s the case against you as it stands-—and I can prove every detail!" Freeman, to give him his rightful pame, was no longer, smiling. Indeed, a haunting terror bad crept into his eyes under Valentine’s merciless grilling. But he was still game, determined to admit nothing. “All that you say may be quite true, chief,’’ he said, “about some other man, but you’re barking up the wrong tree so far as I’m concerned. How long are you going to keep me without a lawyer?” “Until you confess!” snapped Valentine. “That’ll be whem bell freezes over. I guess!" retorted Freeman, settling back In his chair doggedly. Valentine pressed the desk buzzer, and. a uniformed member of the force appeared. “Take him downstairs,” said the chief, nodding toward the culprit. As

Alec Freeman was led to the door, Valentine fired these parting words at him over his shoulder: "Better • think It over, my friend. We’ve got enough evidence to send you to the chair!” This was the first act In the working of the “third degree.” Left to himself In a cell for three days and three nights, with never a word from the doorman who brought him his meals,-the suspect had naught but his own thoughts for company. On the fourth and again on the eighth day he faced Valentine again; the former ordeal was repeated with sundry additions in the shape of further damning details surrounding the killing of Billy Hard eater. Still remaining obdurate, Se flat twice again went forth: “Take m downstairs!' 1 ' Such treatment was bound to effect even the least imaginative of men — and Alec Freeman was anything but Btodgy-bralneC r At Hie third Interview Valentine played his trump card. After interrogating the criminal and eliciting nothing but oft-repeated dogged dentals, the chief rang his bell. Almost Immediately a door into the outer office swung open, facing which sat Alec Freeman, and one by one the totlowing persons entered: The clerk from the Delmont, Miss Cireta Sanders, her mother, two men from Detroit, and last, the pawnbroker’s clerk who had sold the lethal revolver and cartridges to the assassin. Each, as he or she passed at Intervals of perhaps thirty seconds, took a long look at the culprit, then moved

otritir. Wot a word vu uttered, not a.< gesture made. ¥ But. those 1 Pairs of accusing eye*. %uiMjfwith been easier to hear had each one pointed an accusing finger or shrieked aloud some hitter denunciation, for there la nothing so hard to confute as silence. The guilty men, also, was a prey to various emotions apart from his selfknowledge qf the crime. How much those silent accusers knew, what they had divulged to the police, and the fear that the latter might have other evidence yet undeclared —all these matters tended to break down his cast-iron will and cdllous composure—as was of course Intended. But still Alec Freeman made no sign; yet inwardly he was quaking with horror at the thought of spending many more hours in the solitude of a cell with only this last experience and his own scorching conscience for solace. “Take him downstairs!” commanded Valentine coldly and sternly for the fourth time. At these words the murderer broke down. Falling on his knees he poured but a full confession, and once more the efficacy of the “third degree” In obdurate d&ses had been vindicated.

Take Things as They Come.

Many of our woes are imagined, many of our wants are sore distorted —born of unjust desire, of wishing things we have no legal right to; of wanting things we will not slave to earn; of coveting things wa think we

want without wishing, to pay the price. Things are fairly well organized If one will only remain content to take things as they come and toil while they are comink, and nor worry overmuch whether they show up or not He takes the greatest pleasure out of life who can get the best of a good rain as he can of a sunny day, accepting both as far beyond hi* control. To stay indoors when the rain pours and go out for a stroll only while the sun shines is to miss half one’s for as Toil comes first and Ease comes after, bo Want and Luxury is mixed In every life. .

Use of Pepper on Ice Cream.

Ever hear 9* using pepper on loe cream? There seems to be, a In Some' quarters, and how it works is described by the New York Sun: “There's pepper Ig that,*’ rfald a restaurant waiter, pointing to a small silver shaker *e had placed beside a heaping dish of ice cream he was carrying to a guest. “Sure, it’s to put on the lee cream; too,” he replied wheat an inquirer failed to Ifee the connection between tSpgtwo. "Lots of* folks want to put pepp&Kon their lees. You see, if a man’s asoiqach is sensitive, the cold cream hurts him, but pepper is stimulating enough to overcome the effect of the cold, And the funny thing is that yon don’t taste the mm*, per at all. The cream is so cold that It kills the other. If you don’t believe It I’ll gfve you some with pepper,

WAR ON BASEBALL GAMBLING

San Francisco Judge Issues General Warning From Bench When Four Men Are Arrested. Judge Weller of San Francisco Issued a general warhing from the bench to gamblers who bet on base-’ ball games when the cases of the four men arrested at Recreation Park recently veto, brought before him.,. He was forced for lack; of eridenbe to dismiss the cases of Leland Kroper,‘ Joe Barton, Joe Peyser and Walter, alias “Specs,” Smith, who were charged with betting on Sunday’s game, but gave the men a severe talking to. “Aliy time you gentlemen connected with the baseball management bring a case before me with proper evidence, I assure you that I will go to the limit of dealing with the men who bet on baseball games,” said Judge Weller. “Here Is one game that the whole country is interested in keeping clean, and for the sake of sport only. Gambling must be shut out absolutely. You men brought before me charged with gambling on the games, have played the game at some time when you were boys and know as well as I do that the sport must be kept clean from gambling of any kind. Gambling has ruined other sports, and I am going to -do all In my power to see that baseball is kept free from it.” The arresting officers testified that they saw Kroper and Barton exchange money and saw Peyser and Smith making signals with their hands, but they did not hear the conversation that took place between the men. The San Francisco baseball management IS determined to stamp put the evil and plain clothes men will continue to be placed at the park to see that no gambling takes places on the games.

PLANK GOING BACK TO FARM

Great Athletic Southpaw Says He Will Retire to Country Life at End of 1912 Season. The year 1912 will witness the retirement of Eddie Plank from baseball. At the close of the season two years hence the great southpaw, who has been a bulwark of strength for the Athletics since the American League invaded Philadelphia, will go

Eddie Plank.

back to the farm and the simple life. This is the word of the big lefthander himself. On th,e way to the ground one day recently he and Jack Coombs were talking about the strain on a ball player. Both agreed that each season, with its worry, its strain, its physical Wear and its mental worry, took two years out of the life of every player each season. “Two more years,*’ s’ald Eddie—this year and next— - and back I go to the £arm to Stay there the rest of my life. I shall quit the game in 1912, and all that 1 ask is that I have two more good years.”

PITCHERS’ ARMS “GO BACK”

BUI Bernhard, Former Major League Player, Says Throwlhg Winga, . ] Weaken Rapidly, ,« * “I hear ball players say that ; their i arms are as good as ever,” says pill Bernhard, manager of the Memphis club, and formerly a Cleveland pitcher. “I hear players say that they have not gone back. This is especlally true of the pitchers. Many, many pitchers tell yon that- the old arm is -as strong as over. My arm feels good to 6, this spring,’ but It Is hoi as strong as ever. "If It was I wouldn’t be In the Southern League, and If the arms of those] other pitchers were as .strong as ever, they also would not be in the mlnohf leagues.”

Coffroth Gets a New Stand.

Jimmy Coffroth has secured thelease of Louis Blots’ boxing arena at* Mission and Eighth streets, San Fran--clbco, and will promote outdoor box-i ing contests there during the coming summer. l^4^L c^.,ia •

Who Got "Stung.”

Cincinnati han’t yet began to realize on the men sbe got in the fourcornered swap wRh Fhiliulelpht*, whflei Beebe, Rowan, Paskert and Lobdtt! V** 100 cen fc ta Quaker-,