Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 310, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 December 1916 — Page 3

MAKING THE PRISONER CONFESS

It has been the habit of brutal police officers to Wring a confession of crime from a suspected person by torturing him until in desperation he told something fust to get relief. The newest practice in this method is called the “silent third degree, 9 * described here

UPPOSE that you Went to a strange city next week to hunt a* Job, and that by sheer accl* dent you were picked up by the )Rk police as u suspected murderer. Inasmuch as you would have no acquaintances. It would be very hard for you to prove an alibi. So likely as not the police, being quite as euger to give evidence of their alertness by securing a ■conviction as to get at the truth and secure justice. would give you what they call the “third ■degree." , According to a writer in the New York Herald, with the third degree the public is well acquainted through short stories, articles, novels and the drama, but there has developed of recent years * test more grimly nerve racking, more crushing and relentless—the “silent -third degree”— to the study of which penologists and psychologists are giving much time and thought. In the •opinion of some it is more unjust than the older form of bullying questioning Others declare that It Is a true test —one which wrings the truth from the subject more certainly than all the questioning in the world,, and he goes on to explain how the silent third degree works: The McNamara Case. One of the most notaUe cases of the practice* of the silent third was In the Los Angeles Times dynamiting case. James B. McNamara was on trial. The prosecution had developed a strong case against him, but the man's' nerve ■was wonderful. It was Samuel L. Browne, chief of the Los Angeles secret service bureau, who directed the grueling daily presentation of witnesses who spoke not, nor were spoken to. but who merely filed into the court room, caught the eye of .T. B. McNamara, shot him a glance of recognition and then, unquestioned by counsel for either side, left the room. a Women with whom McNamara had associated, hotel clerks who had seen him register' under false names, cahmen who had driven him to places where detectives contended he had met fellow conspirators in the dynamite plot—all these were marshaled by the secret service men and paraded before the prisoner. Vividly, realistically, almost as if with a ’mov-» Ing picture film, each rftep In the accused dynamiter’s Journey from Indianapolis to Ix>s Angeles, each stage of development of the plot, was called to his mind, and. what was worse, there was the suggestion that the prosecution knew all. Every time three or four witnesses who J. P. McNamara knew could testify damagingly against him entered the courtroom and bowed to him in recognition the thought was crushingiy impressed upon his mind that another step in his career was known. ' One of these silent witnesses was the mail clerk •who had time and again handed mail to McNamara at the general delivery window and had known him as J. B. Bryce. Imagine the effect on the guilty man when he saw that the mall clerk recognized him. There were cabmen who had driven McNamara ifabout, and one of them had quarreled ..with him. Finally a woman, plain and rather shabbily dressed, white and timid, was ushered into the courtroom. She sat in one of the front seats and gazed nt J. B. McNamara. How the Silent Third Degree Works. That woman had sold him wrapping paper in her store, and in her presence he had wrapped sticks of dynamite in it. As the supreme test, the- crushing denouement, McNamara was confronted hy the Inst living person who 'had seen him before the dynamite explosion. It was the bartender who had sold McNamara a drink just before he slipped through the swinging door of the saloon hack into Ink alley and placed the dynamite which destroyed 22 lives. “I’ll tell you what this ‘silent third degree’ does. It wakens a man’s conscience. That’s the underlying principle that Jnakes It effective.” said George S. Dougherty, formerly in charge of the New York police detective bureau. “Look here. I’ll tell you how it works. “A man is arrested for a grave crime—murder, perhaps. He sees no witnesses when he Is arrested. He is at bay. desperate, fighting for his liberty and maybe for his life. He steels himself and throws about him an armor of bravado or unconcern or taciturnity. His nerves are like steel fibers, and you can’t shake them. If you should bully him he would become sullen and resistive. If you should threaten he would become! defiant. He might be open to reason, but suppose he were not. “When he is arraigned before n magistrate there may be several witnesses there whom he recognizes and who. he kno%vs, will recognize him. When he has been first arrested he has told his mother and his wife and his friends that he is innocent. The lie means nothing to him then, but when he sees all these witnesses who are connected with his crime in different Ways he begins t to realize that he may be forced to admit his guilt and that -these persons are going to make him out a liar before the friends and relatives * who have stuck by him. That is the beginning of the break, and it reaches a type of man you • can’t bully or hoodwink into a confession." ' Setting Stage for Geidel. On July 27, 1911, William H. Jackson, a broker of New York, was found murdered in his room at the Iroquois hotel, in the heart of the club district of New York city. He had been beaten and strangled and a bottle which had contained chloroform wis found on the premises.

About the only Information the police were at first able to develop was the fact that the murderer must have entered the room from the fire escape. There did not seem to be the slightest evidence as to the identity of the intruder. The bottle which contained the traces of chloroform bore a label, however, and detectives working on the case traced it to a druggist in Newark. This man stated that he had sold the drug to a Mrs. Kane, and gave her address in New York,, city to them. Meanwhile police working in the city had become suspicious of Paul Geidel, a bellboy, who had been discharged from the Iroquois a few days previously. When they learned that he was living in a room which he rented in Mrs. Kane’s apartment their suspicions were strengthened, but there was as yet nothing on which to hold the boy. He had not been seen by anybne on the premises where the crime was committed since his discharge: still; certain Information which came to the hnnd of George S. Dougherty, at that time deputy police commissioner in charge of the detective bureau, led him strongly to believe that Geidel was the murderer. The deputy commissioner hiniself, together with Detectives Thomas Van Twister and Dominick Reilly, went to the apartments of Mrs. Kane, a pretty woman, who earned a living as hairdresser. As they entered Mrs. Kane’s sitting room Geidel and Patrick McGrane, another bellboy, were sitting with her. Dougherty told Mrs. Kane that he wished to speak to her alone on an important matter. The other men suld nothing, but two of them went into adjoining roorps, each with one of the two boys. They each attempted to question their custodian, but he would not speak, not even admitting that he was a detective, although the youths must have known it, and this silence multiplied their fears. Mrs. Kane in a very fraqk manner admitted that, she had bought the chloroform and said that she used it in the treatment of hair. “Have you still got that bottle of chloroform in the house?” asked Dougherty. “No,” she said; “It has gone.” “Where?” asked Dougherty. Mrs. Kane at first hesitated, but by adroit questioning the commissioner learned from her that It had disappeared from the shelf in the bathroom. After learning all that he cared to Dougherty produced the bottle. “Was that yours?” he asked. Mrs. Kane said that it wfis find became very much alarmed. The detective reassured her. “All I want you to do,” said Dougherty, “is to answer my questions again, just the way you have this time.” Then he sent for McGrane, who Was in the, next room with 6eldel. After a few unimportant questions he said to McGrane: “Now, all I want you to do is to sit here quietly. Don’t gay a word, and if Geidel looks at you make no sign or sound unless you want to get into trouble yourself.” McGrane, thoroughly frightened, took his place on a chair the detective,offered to jiim. Stepping to the table, Dougherty turned down the oil lamp, which had h red shade. Then he drew the curtains, shutting out the which heightened the effect of the red-shaded lamp. Every bit of furniture was placed, by tbfe detective so that the effect he was striving for would be enhanced. No stage director could have exercised greater care in the arrangement of details. % He sent for Geidel. Reilly came in with him. The bellboy was seated in a chair which directly faced the dqor to the bathroom, where Dougherty had already replaced the empty bottle of chloroform. “Mrs. Kane," said Dougherty, “did you purchase a» bottle of chloroform from a druggist iu Newark about ten ago?” “Yes,” saitrthe woman. “Why did you get it?” “I use it in dressing hair,” Mrs. Kane replied. “Did Paul know that you had this drug?” *V “Yes, he did.” admitted Mrs. Kane, who was so seated that the light from the lamp on her head and features, making them the most distinctive things in the room, and Geidel seemed unable to take his eyes from her face. He smiled with a certain amount of bravado as the questioning continued. “Did Paul ever say anything about the drug? What were his words?” Mrs. Kane looked Imploringly at Geidel, but either she did not dare not to answer or her wish to tell the Truth was stronger than her sympathy for the boy. - “He asked me if 'there was enough chloroform

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENBSELAER, IND.

in the bottle to kill a man,” she said. “I told him there was, and asked him why he wanted to know. ‘Oh, I might want to take some if things don’t go right with me,’ he replied, laughing, and I thought that he was merely joking in a grim way,” “Is that bottle still In your possession?” asked the detective. “It is.” said Mrs. Kane. “At least, I have not used the drug, and it must be there.” “Where?” “On the shelf in the bathroom.” Turning to Dominick lieilly, the detective asked him to look for the bottle. Geidel’s face showed the first signs of alarm. “Here’s tlje bottle.” said Reilly, “but It’s empty!” “I ttiought you said you hadn’t used It,” said Dougherty to Mrs. Kane, sharply. The bellboy’s eyes started from their sockets. He had believed the bottle destroyed or lost. He sank in his chair. McGrane did not return the glance of inquiry his friend shot toward him. How much did the detectives know? Geidel looked first at one face, then another. The reddish glow on Mrs. Kane’s features showed the anguish she was In. Paul knew she was fond of him. She must be suffering so because she had been obliged to tell all she knew about the qbloroform. MeGrane’s features were stolid. Geidel knew what he had told his friend, and to him this meant that the friend had betrayed him. Reilly handed the bottle, not to Mrs. Kane, but to Paul Geidel. His tongue clove to the roof of his mouth—he tried to speak, but could not. “So that’s where you got the drug to kill Jack- ' son with, is it?” queried Dougherty. “You are Tinder arrest.” Every glance, every movement of the prisoner told of his guilt, yet he did not speak. The detectives did not press hiru with questions. Dougherty was content to let the setting he had arranged—the silent third degree—work on his mind; Reilly took back the bottle which "'Geidel had been examining with the horror he would have had a deadly adder been placed, wriggling, in his hands, / They took him to police headquarters. Ail the way downtown Geidel was living again the scene in the little- room, lit by the reddish .gleam from the lamp. A score of times he lived again that moment when the detective, with horrible dramatic force, had stepped out of the bathroom, in his hand that bottle which the youth had forgotten to destroy. Before he was sent to his cell Geidel said to Reilly: “I did It. Can they han| me for this?" Geidel’ was convicted. V “Abe" Rueff's Experience. An early form of the silent third degree. In that no questions were asked, was on ’*Abe” Rueff, the-San Francisco political boss, who was convicted of graft. „ Rueff was in prison awaiting trial. William J. Burns was handling the case and was making every effort to wring a confession from the prisoner. * <- There was a keeper in the prison named McCarthy, who was on duty near Rueff’s cell. Burns discontinued his calls and instructed this man to waken Rueff every night at two o’clock sharp. This McCarthy did by banging on the wall with a heavy stool. Rueff. the first few nights, did not pay much attention to the disturbance, merely turning over and going to sleep again. At last it got on his nerves,. He would jump off his cot at the first sound and demand, “what was thaf?” McCarthy would make, no reply, and Rueff would run to the barred door of his cell and look out, to see the keeper apparently asleep. Sometimes he would waken the keeper and say, “Didn’t you hear anything?” “Not a sound.” McCarthy would answer. This formula was gone through night after night until on cne occasion Rueff leaped from bed, to find McCarthy wide awake. * “Didn’t you hear anything at ail?” asked the prisoner. “Nothin’ but you talkin’ In sleep.” said McCarthy. “What was I talking about?” said Rueff, Alarmed. “The gfaft cases," said McCarthy. i “My fieavens!” cried Rueff. “Am I going crazy? My mind must be getting unsettled, 1 want to see Burns tomorrow.” Next day the-detective called on the prisoner. Rueff, tried to bring? up the graft cases, but Burns turned to other subjects until at last Rueff broke down and half shouted: “Look here, Burns, you’ve got to listen to this! It’s my confession!”

TRAINING TODAY’S BOYS AND GIRLS

Give Your Child a Place He Can Call His Own. IT MAKES HIM RESPONSIBLE A Most Desirable Enthusiasm for Orderliness Usually Accompanies the Young Person's Sense of Exclusive Possession. By SIDONIE M. GRUENBERG.

DOMESTIC architecture of the present day seems to have developed from the assumption that people Just grow up without ever being children. Certainly very few homes have any place that a child, could call his own. There may be a bed for him to sleep In at night, and we sometimes see a high chair in a dining room, but there are comparatively few homes in which there is a room that is especially set >side for the child, or for the children. The provision of such a room is, of course, the ideal condition. But since most of us are not able to provide such a room, we feel that there is nothing more for us to do, and, as a consequence, most children have no at all. When everything about the house is in its place, it is usually located with reference to the convenience of the grown-ups. “Order” means to us the arrangement that is most convenient or least disturbing. It is therefore hard for most of us to realize that our very order is a serious obstacle to the child’s acquiring orderly habits. The order that we maintain Is quite arbitrary, from the child’s point of view, for everything is disposed according to our adult habits, our size, our uses, and not the child’s. To make the child acquire the habit of having a l?lace for everything and of keeping everything in its place, we must first of all make sure that everything with which the child has to do has a place that is quite accessible to him. One of the frequent questions that mothers In search of counsel brings is “How can I teach my child to be orderly?” The mother who is so much concerned about orderliness would hardly lack orderly habits herself, but she may lack habits that fit the needs of the child In this particular. The first thing necessary is to realize that the child Is not “by nature” orderly,

Domestic Architecture Developed From the Assumption That People Just Grow Up Without Ever Being Children.

in the sense In which a trained adult is orderly. We forget the long, hard struggle through which we attained to our present state, and expect of the child what is hardly possible for the child to give. When we are ready to begin with the child as we find him we must first of all provide a place that Is quite accessible to him for each of the various things that he uses constantly. That his towel and his toothbrush are always on their respective hooks goes without saying. But the same principle applies to all the things for which he has frequent use and for the care of which we wish to hold him responsible. There should be a place for hie toys, and the place should be unoccupied by the belongings of others when it Is time for the child to put his toys away after his play. There should be a place for the coat or the bonnet, and one that can be reached without the helpxtf a chair or an adult. It is only when these places are provided that we have the right to demand of the child that he observe the order prescribed for him. Most children are easily distracted, and It is so easy to “forget” that the clothes are to be hung up immediately upon coming Into the house, and that the blocks are to be pat away before another toy is taken up. In difficult cases it is best to concentrate on one, habit a( a time, instead of trying to teach a general principle ot,, orderliness. Thus; until a child hap learned to put the toys away, it would be well to overlook all the other desirable its. Then we might take up the care of the street clothes, and so on. As the child becomes older and new kinds. Of things come to be handled, the (Earlier habits will *not be automatically transferred to the new needs. But on the basis of the earlier experience It becomes possible Tor the child to understand what v« mean by order,

or by having everything tn Its placet and then It should be sufficient to r** mind him of the rule, or of the conveqlehce of being able to get what 1* wanted with the least loss of time. Where there are not enough closet* to permit the allotment of an Inclosed space to each child, a very serviceable arrangement Is to be found in a packing case with a number of shelves in It. This may be papered or stained on the outside, and closed off with a curtain of checked gingham or other suitable material. The interior of this cupboard should be sacred! and no oqe should enter-It.without the child’s cohsbnt. In this way he may be held responsible for whatever he puts away. And in this way he may also learn to respect the exclusive possessions of others. - - The child should have his own place not only for the putting away of his treasures. He should also have a place that may be his, when necessary, for undistarbed work, or play or study. It is hardly fair to expect a child to do his studying, or even his reading, in the midst of the conversation and laughter—or perhaps the quarrels—of

Until He Has Learned to Put the Toys Away It Would Be Well to Overlook the Other Desirable Habits.

others. As a separate room la in most homes out of the question, we must use our ingenuity in arranging the program of the home in a way that will give the child his own place, at least for a specified time. It is possible sometimes to arrange a screen that will give 'a child a sense of seclusion and mastery over a portion of the earth, if <mly for an hour. This it worth while, since it is through hit alternate experiences with society and solitude that the child comes to a consciousness of his own place in the world. His own hook for his hat, his own shelf for his books, his own corner for his work are to be looked upon as legitimate claims of the child upon his share of the world’s space. They are also very effective means for. teaching the child orderliness, responsibility, care of property and his relation to people and things.

Why He Didn’t Get a Raise.

A certain young man, second in charge of an Important piece of construction, gave great promise. He had executive ability and good judgment, qualities which Inspired confidence in the minds of his superiors. It had just been decided to place him in charge of the next large work to be undertaken, when a tempting bit of difficult analysis proved his undoing. On account of an unforeseen underground obstruo tion, encountered during excavation certain local variations from the design became necessary. The conditions‘of the problem limited the depth and width of girders and the character of loading added to the complications. The young man in question forgot bis executive duties at once and worked both day and night for two weeks on his slab and beam platform. The result was. a unique and original solution for maximum economy, a saving of perhaps $35 —and his ultimate transfer to the drafting room.— -Leonard M, Cox, in Engineering Magazine.

Historic St. Quentin.

Before the walls of St Quentin, France, in 1557 was fought one of the great battles in the struggle between Henry H of France and Philip H of Spain. The latter, having previously married Mary Tudor, queen of England, had the support of the English when the Spaniards, under Emmanuel Philibert of Savoy, invested the town. The Incompetent Constable de Montmorency led a French army ta the relief of Admiral Coligny, who was 1n command of the garrison. The administered a crushing defeat to Montmorency, but the besieged forces, inspired by the intrepid Coligny, held the town for 17 (jays after the rout of their “deliverers.” This was the same Cpligny who 15 years later was one of the first victims of the massacre of St. Bartholomew. His body was thrown from his.own window and fell in the courtyard at the feet of the duke of Guise, one of the instigators of the great slaughter of the Huguenots.. * r .

James J. Hill’s First Job.

After four weeks’ work the Scotch employer, for whom the late James J. Hill first worked as a boy, on Saturday night, put his hand on his shoulder and said: “James, ye hae done right weeL If ye keep on, ye’ll mak’ your way in the world.” Then he handed him aa envelope. The boy hastened off home t;6 give the $4 contained In the envelope, his pay sos his first month of hard work, to his mother. “I never felt so rich?’ he said, “I never expect to feel so rich again in my life, as when I looked at those $4 and when 1 handed them over to my mother."—* World’s Work.