Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 123, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 May 1913 — Page 3

The Cases of Alice Clement

True Stories of the World's Greatest Woman Sleuth as Told by Herself to Courtney Riley Cooper

' (Editor's Note—On the payroll of the municipal detective department of the city of Chicago appears the name of Alice Clement, sleuth. To the trackers of men who make their headquarters at the bureau at 179 North La Salle street, she is known as "Alice of the Smile." Fearless, resourceful, dangerous in a hundred simple little *Wsguises which mask her, yet do not bidder her, she has found the evidence which has sent many a man and jmany a woman to the penitentiary. There is hardly a dangerous dive of the great city which she, in her twelve years of detective life, has not visited. - More than once has her life been in danger, many times has she been compelled to use the dirk or the revolver that she carries for protection. And yet, through it all, she has remained pretty, vivacious, full of life and the love of living—and always deserving of her name, "Alice of the Smile." Too, she has always remained reticent, non-communicatlve about her adventures, until Mr. Cooper persuaded her to tell her adventures for the first time.)

PAIR of large, dark, innocent eyes glowed laughingly at me from across the table. There was a smile, too, on the childish face, an appreciation of the goodness of life and the Joy of living in every feature. Those about us in the case, where the lights glittered and the waiters hurried forth seemingly from nowhere, to stand a moment at their ■tasks and disappear again,

‘knew naught but that we were an ordinary young man and an ordinary young woman partaking of the refreshments of the after the theater. True it was of myself, that ordinary part—but for the woman who faced me there was a great difference. I . leaned across the table. “I can’t help saying it,” I had begun, "but you don’t look like a detective.” She laughed, whole-heartedly. "Perhaps that’s the reason I’ve succeeded,’’ she answered. Then suddenly she bent toward me, her eyes flashing, the fire of enthusiasm, of the hunter, in her face. “I know what you’re going to say,” was added—“that it’s no Work for a woman who loves the things that a woman should love; that it is work that will make me old beyond my time and make me forget the good things of the world. Well?” she laughed. “I’ve been at it nearly twelve years now, and if it was going to make me old it should have accomplished something by this time. And so, one guess as to my age—?" I tried to be truthful. i "Twenty-four,” I hazarded. “You missed it—” the eternal woman came forth tn its strength then — "but I won’t tell you how much.' Yousee, a person doesn’t have to let crime enter the soul, simply because the business is that of crime tracking. But there was a time once —>” The eyes lost their softness. A glitter, cold, steel-like, supplanted the happy brilliancy. The diamond pendant at her throat shook and shed forth its sparkling radiance against the brightness of the lights. The hands, folded on the table, clenched hard. I noticed that the lips were drawn in a straight line. I waited — and then: "When was that?” The being of Alice Clement had seemingly changed. There was a bit of remorselessness ih her face now, of determination. Those flashing eyes were becoming colder and colder. "It was the only time in my life,” she began, "that I over tracked a man for revenge. More than one little angle turned up in that case, for it not only gave me the vengeance f sought, but it proved to me that a woman can be as brave as a man; It proved to me that I had the detective instinct—and it also, later on, made a municipal detective of me. It happened twelve years ago, and that’s a fairly long time, but when I tell the story the true names will be changed, and locations will be re-named, because —well, just because, that’s all.” She was still the woman, in reasons, at least. I waited, j. "You remember that J laughed when you guessed at my age,” she began, “and one reason for that is that I have out home a little daughter, half as old as you guessed my age to be. When my entrance into the detective world began that child was a baby in arms. And she went with me. "Years before, my husband had been slugged. He had been held up at night, on a street on the West Side, -knocked down, beaten and robbed. I had seen the face of the man who had done the work—and that face burned itself into my memory with a permanency that I knew would never fade. The time came when I was sure of that. "My husband had gone away on a trip that weet, I remember. Since," she added with a tone of sadness In her voice, "be has gone on a longer journey from which he will not return. We were not the most prosperous persons in the world then, and we lived in a flat near Chicago avenue. The neighborhood was squalid; there were characters around us whose reispe<st for the law was not of the highest It was a street of mystery and of darkness and of danger. ■ i. "And someway, In daytime as I

An Amateur Case

(Copyright, by W. G. Chapman.)

walked along that street, or in the evening when I was returning from the little store with my purchases for the evening meal, my eyes were always searching, always looking for the sight of a face that remained ever clear to me. Something seemed always whispering to me that some day I would find that man whom I hunted; someday, he and I would come face to-face, and then it would be woman against man—with prison or death as the ending. The police, in the years that had had done nothing toward success in catching him, and for that I hated them. Detectives had failed. As far as I knew the case was outlawed; even should I find the man who had attacked my husband there would be little chance for retribution. z ßut still I searched, still my eyes roved, ever looking for the face they sought, and one night—” The orchestra had begun the playing of a plaintive melody. Alice Clement paused and looked far away, while the pendant at her throat poised and fell and rose again. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes now; I saw that she was living with her memories. I remained silent At last the voice began again. "There was a little second-hand store next to the flat I occupied, a small two-story affair that was run by two Jews. The place was dark, dirty —I had always passed with a queer little shiver which I never could understand. "I had been • little late that evening on my trip to the grocery store. Darkness had already come and I was hurrying along the street that I might reach home before the baby became frightened. Through a long space of shadow I had traveled, and then came the flare of a dingy light as the door of the second-hand shop opened and a man stepped forth, a suitcase In his hand. I turned my head to him, then gasped. The face! “He did not seem to notice me, but walked past rapidly. I whirled and tried to follow. It was in me to scream, to seize him if I could, to tear his throat with my hands. My teeth clenched hard —It seemed that all the fury that woman can know had suddenly surged into my heart at the sight of those features; I could have killed and not have been sorry for the deed. But I failed. A half block and the man was lost in the shadows. For an hour I searched, then walked slowly to my little apartment home, to take my baby in my arms and sit wonderlngly by the window, looking down in the darkness to where the little second-hand shop reared its leprous form—thinking and planning and scheming for some way to find that face again, to catch the man I hated. Alice Clement cooked ng. supper that night Early morning still found her sitting by the window, still thinking.” The music of the case was loud now.- There was laughter, there was singing from the cabaret vocalists who lounged at one of the tables. But the detective did not hear. She was living in the past One hand was tapping the table nervously. Her head was forward, her body tense. "I had seen men with suit cases go into that little second-hand store be 2 fore, usually at night That fact weighed on my mind. I worried about it, I figured out every possible reason, but no solution came. Yet there was something, some reason; I knew it The next day I studied the wall of the building below me. Only one window appeared, dark, shade-drawn. The fire escape led within a foot of it, right at a place where the walls of the flat in which I lived was blank of windows. A chance was. there—a poor chance, but I determined to take It. "Night came, and with It I put my child to bed and clothed myself for a long vigil. Then I stepped out on the fire escape. Slowly, cautiously, I made my way down to where I might crouch by that little window, and there, baffled by the closely drawn shade, I felt the tears coming to my eyes and a choke in my throat as I realized that my chance of learning the secrets of the little building were fading. But suddenly, the inspiration came. I climbed back up the fire escape and set out to find a hardware store that by some chance would be open. In two hours I was back on the fire escape, with a glass cutter In my hands. “From within there came sounds, loud sounds, but Indistinct I was thankful for the raucousness; It would hide the grating of the glass cutter. Slowly J began to trace a circle on the pane. The .scratching sounded like the grinding of car wheels to my nervous ears. I paused. The laughter and noise from within continued. 1 lifted the glass cutter again. Again I made the circle. The edge had cut deep. The crucial time had come — the time of chance. If luck was with me the glass would hang In Its socket •b l gave the blows that would free It from the main body. If luck was' against me—! "I trembled. I lifted an edge of my dress, and placing It against the pane to deaden the sound, rapped the glass gently at the lower end with my knuckles. My lungs seemed devoid

of breath, my heart had stopped beating. I rapped again. The glass gave; I felt that my hands had recoiled, then reached forward graspingly. A great wave of relief shot over me. The circle of glass had hung! It had swung In the center, as though on a pivot, my fingers had clutched it, and now it lay within my hand while I, dazedly, stared straight ahead. "Words were coming from within, in a voice that I recognized. A thrill shot through me. I placed an ear dose to the hole in the window. That voice I had heard before, in the years that had gone, tense, cursing, as he had sent down the blows Which had felled my husband. It seemed the revelry had ceased now. They were discussing something more important. I I heard the voice of the Jew, then the voice I recognized again: ‘"Well, I’m not goin’ to go at this thing alone, and I’ll tell you that right now » . it’s got to be too quick a haul; there’s enough of us to make a cleaning of tike whole place; we can get in while they’re at the show, do the job In a half hour, then get out It it’s going to be done at all, it’ll have to be done that way. That’s all there Is to It amj. If you guys want to try it .some other way, well —’ "Another voice had broken in. “‘A fine set of dubs we’d be, a whole gang of us, paradin’, out there like a circus mob! What d’you want an army?’ “/Which’d be worse, six of us handlin’ th* tiling right an' gettln’ away with th* junk in a way we wouldn’t be noticed, or one or two guys luggin’ a lot of stuff an’ gettln’ pinched for investigation?* came the voice that I knew. “A third chimed in. ‘“That’s right.’*:; How her eyes flashed, as the pictures of the past came before them! Once again she was huddled on that fire escape, listening to the formation of a plot beneath. Case, lights, music, all had faded for Alice Clement She was what her profession made her, a tracker of men again. The story .went on. “I knew that sooner or later the address would be spoken, for the explanation of everything had come to me now. This second-hand shop was that only in name. In reality it was a fence for thieves, a meeting place and rendezvous for robbers —and I had stumbled into the knowledge of their plans!j Oh, if some one would ask for that address! If some one would speak it! I felt numbly that I was cold, that I was shivering, that my fingernails were bitting into the flesh of my tightly clenched bands. Just for the address, just one word —! "I started. I pressed closer against the window. The men, who evidently had been sitting at a table, were moving around. I sprang to my feet and hurried up the fire escape. The address had come! “There was a maze of a few moments in which I neither knew nor understood what I did, nor why. When I came to myself, I was turning the corner of Chicago avenue and State streets on a half run for a street car, With my baby in my arms. What I was going to do, I did not know. The thought of the police had not touched my mind; all I knew was that I must get to the house they planned to rob before they got there, that I must find some way to circumvent them. The street car stopped. I boarded it "It was not until I reached the block in which the flat was that I began to realize the risks I was taking. It dawned upon me then that I was carrying my baby into a place where it would not only be in danger, but where it might cause danger for me. What if there was no one at home, no one I could warn? The realization flashed upon me that there would be no one, for I knew that in the plans I had heard the robbers felt sure they would be safe in their work, for a while at least. I hurried to the flat. I rang the bells, one after the other. Not a tube answered. I circled to the back. I pushed the buttons for the servants. There came no reply. I started to hurry across the little yard to where the rear of another flat showed. I stepped off the porch, made my way to the side of the house, then, with a gasp, rushed back. *T had seen a shadowy form—two of them —three. The thieves had arrived. Like the little fool that I had been, I had allowed _ myself to be caught, I had spoiled everything. I gave one wild glance about me in the dim light, then jumped for the rear porch again. A dumbwaiter bad shown before me. A leap and I had climbed into it, closed the slide, and was praying, yes, praying, that the child in my arms would remain as quiet as she had been —a whimper would have meant death for me. "Maybe there’s something in prayers,” Miss Clement added thoughtftilly. "The baby turned in my arms the least bit, it raised a tiny hand that touched my throbbing throat, then it settled back to sleep again. I heard a step on the porch. Muffled voices came from a few feet away. "‘D’ye think I’d better shin It to the second story?* "▲ voice from the door answered in a whisper: ’“No need of it. It’s a connected joint Family affair. Old man and his wife on the first floor, two married daughters and their husbands live on the other floors. All connected with a stairway; we can get into from down here. Hand me the nippers.’ "There was a grating, a scratching of metal, soft cursing. The man at the door seemed to have turned. "’Can't nip the key. Gimme the Jimmie.’ ’"Hurry up,’ came from the other man. " ’Signal Bill and the gang to come on,’ was the reply; *we*re goin’ In.’ "There was a rending, sound, a

"QUICK, SERGEANT! GET EVERY MAN YOU CAN ANO COME WITH ME.”

crackling, a snap. The lock had been forced. I heard one of the men step to the edge of the porch and whistle softly. A second later the answering tread of soft footsteps sounded on the porch. A few words. The door closed. All was still.” The music of the case had faded for me, too, now. Only the woman’s face was before me, the face that was echoing the tense agony of that moment of the past My cigarette burned my fingers; I dropped it to the tray almost unconsciously. My eyes were straight ahead. "And then —” I prompted. The diamond pendant seemed to have planted its rays in her eyes. They were snapping electrically. "Then?” She laughed a bit queerly. “Then I prayed again. I knew a thief had been placed to watch just within the door; I knew there was one shadow which might aid me —but that the first wrong step would bring the watching man thundering upon me. I knew the child in my arms might be aroused by my first movement and that she might cry. I knew that my woman’s heart was quailing, that it was crying out to me to remain where I at least stood a chance of safety—and I knew I must fight that impulse down. Something warm coursed its tiny way on my chin. I had bitten my lips to bleeding. Something cold gripping my heart, something steel was seemingly binding my brain into dumb, helpless lack of thought»l shuddered. Then, like one plunging into an icy sea, I stepped forward. “Step by step I made my slow way down in the shadow. No word came from behind, no sound. I had passed the first watcher. I turned quickly to the blind side of the building and crept along the fence. I knew it was impossible to retreat by the front way, for there would be a watcher there also, somewhere in a dark corner. One by one I felt the panels of the fence. Lower and lower my heart sank. Then, suddenly it leaped. I had found a loose board. “A vacant lot was before me. Crouching low, stumbling, my dress catching and pulling, twigs striking against my face, I made my way through the high weeds, shielding my baby as best I could, hoping, praying against that it would not awaken. A light flashed before me as I hurried into an alley. Tears came to my eyes, and yet I laughed, laughed with all the nervousness, all the anguish of relief that a woman could know. I saw the sign ahead: “POLICE STATION.” “The old desk sergeant started as I entered, my hair flying, my eyes wild. A patrolman attempted to stop me. I pushed him out of the way. “‘Quick!’ I gasped. ‘Sergeant, get every man you can and come with me!’ "He looked at me as though he believed me crazy. He did not move. I rushed to him, I seized him by the coat sleeve. “ ‘Quick!’ I urged again. ‘There are a set of thieves in a flat not two blocks from here. You’ve got time to surround the place and get every one of them. They think they're safe; they’ve got two watchers, but I know where they are. I saw them get into the place—won’t you come—can't you see the need to hurry—sergeant? Can’t you—■’ "There was no need of further pleading. The sergeant was already on the way to the door. Three patrolmen had sprung to their feet and were following him. I saw the jailer and hurried to him. " 'Hold the baby,* I commanded, add laughed somewhat hysterically at his surprised face. Then I whirled and was gone to join the sergeant "A half hour later six shadowy forma slunk forth from the side of the flat building. There was a half glitter as four revolvers were pointed ahead, a sharp command, a shot as one of the men attempted to run, and then the hands of the gang of robbers wept into the air. With the capitulation there camo a frightened little cry,

the sound of the sobbing voice of a woman —and I’m thinking right now" (there was a twinkle in the eyes across toe table) “that toe voice was that of Alice Clement.” She paused, and once again she was the simple little woman, listening to the music of an after-the-thepter orchestra. She tapped her fingers idly on the table to the rhythm of the song, and there came the smile that has made her famous in the police world of Chicago. "And that was the making of little me,” she said with a laugh. "I found out that night that while my work might have been crude, I had the instinct of a detective in me. The next day I went to the police station. 1 learned that the second-hand shop had been raided, that the-Jews had been arrested and with them ten other men. I learned also that something like >20,000 worth of loot had been recovered, and then —well, then I went down into the cell to see the man whose memory had caused it all. “ ‘How do you like it?’ I asked him as he paced about his cell.

KEEP THE GARDEN FIT All WINTER

"Who loves-his garden, keeps his Eden," the Hollyhock Woman heard a voice say as she bent and untied the paper wrappings around her late chrysanthemums. She knew it was the tall clergyman who preached in a little church in the woods at the edge of the village. “Good motning to you,” she said. "If you had not seen my chrysanthemums in bloom, would you have believed that I could keep them alive until after the middle of the month? "It is hope and faith that keep the soul alive,” said the aged preacher. “It is my experience that it is better to find the secret of perennial hoping when one is young than to discover a gold mine. The first wifi remain with you, and you can get pleasure from your garden although winter is lowering; but the second may be stolen and spent and you will have nothing left but vain regrets.” "I like to keep some plants alive in my garden all the year around,” returned the Hollyhock Woman, handing him a bouquet.' “The common pansies, the sweet alyssum, the mints and verbenas will stay late if they have a little shelter. The hardy chrysanthemums, the artemisias, seem to enjoy the cold.” /“They have a fine fragrance, too. But I see you do not leave them unprotected. Those barrel staves shield them splendidly from the wind, the newspapers make a thick blanket at night, and I can believe that your heaps of dried leaves and twigs from the woods have a purpose. Because you care, I have brought you a present" The aged preacher handed it to her over the fence. It was a small plant with evergreen foliage, growing in a clod of earth as large as her head. Glistening white buds were beginning to uncurl. "How lovely; oh, how lovely!” she cried. “What is it?" “The Christmas Rose, Hellebores Niger. If you dig a hole in your sheltered place and plant it as it stands, h. will never know that it was moved from my church yard and will bloom all winter. I call it the flower of good-cheer, because I have found its blossoms on the darkest days of December.” Then the aged preacher put on his broad brimmed hat and passed around the corner before the surprised Hollyhock Woman had time to thank him properly. She heard the village clock strike and she knew it was near the hour for the train to take her to the city. Quickly taking her coat, after she had planted the Christmas Rose in a hole she had dug for crown-im-perials, she followed the path across lots to the station, passing the

“The man, who had given the name of Mitchell, turned and glared at me. " Tve seen you before,* he said, shortly. - —------ " ‘Yes, last night,’ I answered. *You saw me before that, too, only I guess you don’t remember. The next time you slug a man and rob him, take care that there’s not a woman around. That’s all.* I laughed at him, happily. He, in turn, only glared. " 'What?' he snapped. " 'Nothing in particular,* I answered, and left him.” The orchestra and the cabaret were reveling in the sympathetic tones of till Sextette from Lucia. I lit another cigarette. “Revenge is sweet—sometimes,” I ventured. “It’s sweet to the extent of eighteen years in Joliet for the honorable Mr. Mitchell,” she and then, humming softly, while the tapping fingers again kept time with the music, she looked around the case. “Isn’t it just awful how some of these Chicago women paint?" she asked innocently.

church with its little graveyard where .the aged preacher presided. The Hollyhock Woman boarded the train and seated herself across the aisle from a neighbor. "I saw you making hay while the sun shines,” shouted the jovial Doctor of the village, making himself heard above the noise of the starting train. “You busy women act as if your salvation depended upon your keeping gardens fit and fine pll winter. After all, as I think about it, it is your salvation. That is why I can only butter one side of my bread. None of you needs me. You radiate health and happiness, all because of your gardens and communion with the sunshine and out of doors. By the way, I see that Primrose Man, your neighbor, making his way in thia direction. Say that you will come out on the early train, and let me take you herb gathering in the woods, won't you?” "I’ll come,” said the Hollyhock Woman, smiling out of the corner of her eye as the Doctor, with a great air of indifference, took a • catalogue of hardy garden plants from his overcoat pocket and turned his back to her. Just then the train reached the city. The doctor leaned forward and whispered in the ear of the Hollyhock Woman. Herb gathering may go on all summer, but for true zest in scenting out calamus, mints, bergamots, sassafras, hoarhound and plants that belong to the well watered meadows below tho woods, the late autumn is the happy time. The doctor and his flowerloving woman friend pushed their way through the long dry grass and rustling cat-tails, sniffing and enjoying the air they breathed as much as tbo harvest they reaped. "Something tells me it is time for dinner," be groaned, whimsically. "I am afraid you will regret that big touring, car and the tea-basket that went alpng with it But a brisk walk will only sharpen our appetites.” Fate was kinder to them than they thought Leaving the woods for the high road to the electric car, they saw a bright fire in a grove on the hill, and the Primrose Man, heaping on brushwood, recognized the tall, white coated figure of the Hollyhock Woman In the moonlight "Ton do not deserve to be forgiven, runaways,” he called down to them. "We are three and there is room for two more. Come and broil your own chops over the fire." "It is a wonder more of us are not gypsies at heart,” said the Hollyhock Woman as she sat before the blase watching the coffee boil. "Those who stay indoors in the autumn do not know what they miss. What a harvest of shrubs you have, and you will envy us our herbs, Let us give thanks for autumn.” LENA MAY M’CAULCY. (Copyright. M 0( k* W. G. ChapmaSj J *