Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 105, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 May 1914 — LEARNED A LESSON [ARTICLE]

LEARNED A LESSON

By WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE.

It is unlikely that young Mr. J. Q. A. Boggs will ever carry a big wad of bills arotind with him again. He has learned his lesson, one that he will never forget. On the day in question he had drawn the bills from the bank on the afternoon before pay day, for a special reason—he wanted to get off early on the next day, and it took a considerable amount of time to go to the bank. His idea was to take the bills home, count and arrange them for the men and save himself a pile of work the next morning. It was dusk when he started from his office. He failed to notice the burly individual who dogged his footsteps on the way home, but that burly individual had not failed to notice him. At a particularly dark spot in the street, something suddenly loomed up before Mr. Bogg’s vision—that something was the burly individual. He didn’t waste words. No sooner was he aware that Mr. Boggs had seen him than he hit Mr. Boggs first on one side of the head and then on the other.

“I guess you won’t remember much after this, me buck,” he muttered to himself, as he helped himself to the roll of bills. He did so hurriedly, for Mr. Boggs uttered a stifled cry for help. The cry was heard, and unfortunately for the robber, two policemen loomed into view. They saw the thief just as he was rising from a stooping posture above the prostrate man., They leveled their revolvers. “Halt!" they cried in unison. The robber laughed as he started off at an easy gait, that became faster as he ran. One of the policemen followed—the other pulled Mr. Boggs over to a place of safety and then joined in the chase. The thief led them on, first up one street, then down another, constantly doubling on his ' tracks. Occasionally a citizen would join in the pursuit. Suddenly, when the foremost officer had almost grabbed him—both had long since emptied their revolvers—he darted hastily around a corner and disappeared. But the police were close on his heels and as they turned the corner they heard a door suddenly slam. They located the sound, and crossing to the house, 'attempted to force their way in. They did not try long. A man appeared at the door and opened it with such willingness that an officer, whose shoulder had been pushing It too hard, fell flat within the passageway. “Gentlemen," said the man Who had opened the door, "what can I do for you?” As he spoke, he appeared to be slightly out of breath. The officers grabbed him. “We want you!" they exclaimed. The man gasped with surprise. “What for?" he asked. “You’re the fellow that robbed a man In Quimby street," they said. He gasped again. “Robbed a man,” he went' on, "impossible. Why, I have just come home from work.” "You’ve been running,” said one -officer. “Exactly," responded the man, “for I was late. In fact I reached the house just before you came.” This conversation occupied several minutes. There was a clock on the mantel. It was just eight o’clock. An officer took out His watch and verified the time. The other one had taken a note of the time of the robbery. It had occurred at 25 minutes after seven.

They searched the house, but they did not find the bills. The man of the house, Higgins, as he gave his name, was quite amused at the little episode, but he was not so much amused when they took him around to the station house and locked him up. He was held for trial. The trial ' came'on. The police went on the stand and proved their case. They had chased a man to the corner in question, and they had heard this door slam, they went in, the man admitted that he had been running—the case was clear to their minds. The prisoner was nonplussed. He took the stand and protested that he was innocent “Dear me!** he exclaimed, “If the law would only allow me to call Mr. Humbert, the clock maker. Why, your hqnor, I was in his place for one whole hour, from 6:55 to 7:55, and I was due at my home at eight o'clock, so I ran. If the law would but let me call him, I could ; prove what I say.*’ The judge looked over his glasses. “The law allows you to call him, sir,” he said. "Why don’t you call him?" The prisoner hesitated. “I have no counsel, your honor," he explained, “and I could not get Mr. Humbert here. How can I get Mm?" The'court called an officer and told him to take the address of this man Humbert and> get him here at once. The officer went around to a dingy little store that he had never seen tibfore. In front of it there was —.a man with a bare head, taking a sun bath. He was a good-sized man. "Mr. Humbert?” asked the officer. The other nodded. "You’re wanted down at court,” he went on. “Get your hat” "Me?” said Humbert, pulling a skullcap from his pocket. "Indeed! What for?” "Prisoner in that Boggs robbery case says he was in your store that night Was he?” The man who called himself Humbert scratched his head. "Ridiculous!” he said. "Of course he wasn’t.” Neither the officer nor the man called Humbert had venturi inside the store. They immediately went to court The judge nodded to the man called Humbert "Mr. Humbert?” he inquired. Humbert nodded.

“Mr. Humbert,” went on the judge, “this man says he was at your shop on the 13th of last month In the evening for an hour, beginning 6:55. Is that true?” Humbert put on a large pair of spectacles. "Ridiculous!” he exclaimed, “I never saw the man before." The judge breathed a sigh of satisfaction, the police grinned with an air of “I told you so.” “May I—f began the prisoner. "May I ask a question?*’ “Certainly, sir,” responded the judge. “Mr. —Mr. Humbert,” continued Higgins, the accused, "don’t you remember a man who called at your place that night to get a olock that had been left for repair—and who talked about tattoo marks-?” Humbert started and rubbed his head. “Of course,” he returned. “I do—l do remember him. I showed him a tattoo mark of a clock upon my arm, and he showed me on his— 4’ “Wait a minute," went on the prisoner, “what day was that?” “Why,” answered Humbert, “it was the evening of Good Friday—l remember It welL Yes, indeed —there was such a man. And he was there an hour, too. But how did you know that?” he asked of the prisoner. “What were the tattoo marks he showed you?”-asked..the prisoner.

Humbert again scratched his head. “One arm,” he answered, "had a goddess of liberty, and the other a dancing girl with the words H. H. beneath it. I remember them well.” The prisoner rolled up his sleeves. “Are those the marks?" he asked. The witness, Humbert, leaned forward and examined the marks with care. “Why —why, to be sure,” he. answered. Then he looked the prisoner steadily in the eye. “Why, bless me, you—you were the very man. Yes, your honor, this is the man, and he says truth when he said that he was with me during the hour named. He is right, and I was wrong.” \ Humbert seemed so very honest about It, and his testimony was so straightforward that the prisoner was perforce discharged by the verdict of the jury. He thanked. Mr.. Humbert profusely, and Humbert went his way and the prisoner went his. Late that afternoon a policeman who had happened to witness the trial dropped into Humbert’s on his way to his beat, just to have a bit of a chat about the alibi. An elderly gentleman was arranging some watches in a case. “Where is Mr. Humbert?" asked the officer. “I am Mr. Humbert," responded the old man. "I —I mean the other one," went on the officer. "There Is no other one,” returned the other. “A big stout man," suggested the policeman. “I am the only Humbert," answered the old man; "you must have things mixed." That same afternoon a big, stout, burly man and a tall, though heavy Individual, hastened from the town. The latter resembled Mr. Higgins, the former the witness, Humbert. “I’ll take my half right now,” suggested Mr. Higgins. Mr. Humbert handed over a small wad of bills. "It was absurd for them to charge me with that crime—assault and robbery of that man Boggs—absurdly ridiculous.” Humbert, as he had called himself, scratched his head. “It was absurd," he went on, “though I say that myself. But it was done clever, too,” he went on, “though I say so, that oughtn’t." (Copyright, 1914, by Dally Story Pub. Co.)