Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 11 May 1938 — Page 11

if

{

i A

we

a

- 3

y

a SAARC

“N

ky

t errs

=

i

a

From Indiana = Ernie Pyle

Kansas' Dust and Creeping Drivers Make Life Anything but Enjoyable As Your Columnist Leaves the West. ANHATTAN, Kas., May 11.—You might say with honesty that I am a traveler

above the average in tolerance.

But something happened when we came I got sore at

out of Colorado into Kansas. everything. it. was simply a crossing filled with little furies.

I'm not sure just what caused

We drove into swirling dust the minute we crossed

the Colorado line. In one town we had to sleep with the windows shut and only the transom open for air. The wind was an almighty one, blowing from a miliion miles away. It picked at your car, pushed it and rocked it, until you were tense and aching from the strain. You could barely talk above the roar of the wind. You kept cranking the car window up, then down, suspended halfway between the alternatives of choking to death or smothering. Gradually the whole thing shrouded you with an immense annoyance. And then peoplé began to get on my nerves. People stopped cars in the middle of the highway to cnange seats. People stopped cars side by side in the road, to talk. Families drove along at the pace of a terrapin, ogling the magnificent lack of nature in Western Kansas, while traffic piled up behind. I am against high speed. But I say that when a local citizen, all alone, with one elbow on the window and his chin in his hand, takes a half-mile-long blind curve at the infuriating rate of five miles an hour, he should go to jail as quickly as if he'd been doing 80. Twice we stopped for gas, and drove away in a dudgeon because the gas-pump boys were too busy gabbing with the loafers to fill up the tank. We stopped for lunch, and never did get waited on.

A Bundle of Wheat at the Wheel

By mid-afternoon I looked like a bundle of wheat sitting at the wheel. Fortunately, things began to change. There came a slight touch of greenness in the fields. There came small hills, and now and then a farmhouse was painted, and there were real trees again. All this did not come suddenly, but it came during a hundred miles. At last we had to get gas, or else get out and push. It was in the town of Clay Center, if I remember. The man was at the gas pump before I had the engine shut off. Because there was no drinking water at the station, one of the loafers ran 10 a nearby house and brought a glass. Another one inquired if we had come through rain, and talked in easy friendliness about the dust and prospects of rain. Kansas was better after we left Clay Center. And in Manhattan we found friends of friends, and they put life into us again and brought us back to sanity. For the first time in 300 miles we felt at home. Kansas at last was good.

My Diary

By Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt Conductor Is a Little Irked With

Mr.

First Lady for Delaying His Train. | EW YORK, Tuesday—Our sky was still gray this

morning and before we reached the station a few drops of rain were falling, but I doubt if our parched countryside will have a real rain as yet. In one way, I am rather glad, for there is certain work being done around the house which I would like to have finished in the next day or so. Then, with the farmers, I shall pray for a good solid three «days of rain, which I hope will fall gently so as to soak into the ground. We nearly missed our train this morning, but the engineer recognized us and waited a second to let us on. Even the conductor was kind and tempered his first wrathful suggestion that a train should start the moment it is scheduled to do so. Not long ago I commented on the fact that today some types of work require a dreary repetition that is hard on the average human being. That comment brought me a story which I am passing aleng. It appeals to me because, so often in my childhood, I lived in a dream-world of make-believe to get away from the disagreeable things of life. I am told that vears ago, Miss Jane Addams, in investigating working conditions, found "one young girl whose sole duty was to insert tiny pegs into a machine hour after hour. The girl performed the act so cheerfully and with such evident zest that Miss Addams was moved to inquire haw she could retain such an attitude in so dreary and unvaried a duty. The reply was smiling: ‘Oh, in the morning I marry a duke and then I am happy all day long.’” We do not marry dukes, but constructive imagination can take us far away from many wearisome and necessary tasks.

Invited to Writers Parley

I received a tempting invitation today to join the ninth Writers Conference at the University of Colorado, Boulder, Colo., from July 25 to Aug. 12. I confess that I would give a great deal to be there, but I would give even more to stay at home! This is a particularly interesting announcement to me, for

I knew nothing about it before and it seems a marvelous opportunity for young and unknown writers. From among the best-known writers in

our country; poets, novelists, short story writers and editors come to guide these young, aspiring authors. This year they have listed Carl Sandburg, Hervey Allen, Edward Davison, Elmer Rice and many others. This morning Mvs. Scheider and I went to view posters in a safety contest in which Mr. De Lancey Kountze had asked me to act as one of the judges. I enjoved this opportunity although I could only view them from a layman's point of view.

New Books Today Public Library Presents— .

ENT on a world journey by an American committee ».) to learn the attitude of the peoples of the world toward the question of peace, Elias Tobenkin made a nine months’ circuit of the globe, visiting 15 countries As he is a student of foreign languages, he was able to talk freely with the people of every country which he visited. His findings he has incorporated in a book both scholarly and humane—THE PEOPLE WANT PEACE (Putnam). To Italy, Germany, Russia and Japan he gives special attention, since they are the countries which, in the author's opinion, are causing the most alarm to lovers of peace. His outlook is very encouraging, as he not only believes in peace himself, but from his research has concluded that the “common people” all over the world desire it. He stresses the point that without the “common people” there can be no war, and that they are unanimous in their longing to avoid it. » = on N Feb. 5, 1937, President Roosevelt gave simul- | taneously to Congress and to the nation the now | famous “Court packing bill,” thereby producing among | Congressmen, Administration men, newspapermen and the general public a high state of excitement which subsided only on July 22, when the Senate voted to recommit the bill to the Committee on the Judiciary. Of THE 168 DAYS (Doubleday) which intervened between the beginning and the denouement of the battle over this bill, Joseph Alsop and Turner Catledge have written a dramatic and analytic history. This history includes what is of equal interest to readers— a consideration of the factors in the situation which made the President insistent upon some limitation of the powers of the Supreme Court, and of the elements in his own temperament which, the writers believe, led him to misjudge the effect of his proposals upon the country. Suddenly, say the authors, the “shabby comedy of national politics . . . was elevated to a grand, even |

to a tragic plane.” And it is as the tragic heruv of this drama that they have pictured the President.

Vagabond!

Nothing big happened. Our crossing of Kansas

min alin Fo Se Gli Seca iis . 3

The Indianapolis Times

PAGE 13

Second Section

WEDNESDAY, MAY 11, 1938

Entered as Second-Class Matter at Postoffice, Indianapolis, Ind.

PAGE 11

Tapping of Wires Held

~ As Unethical

(Last of a Series)

By Sutherland Denlinger

Times Special Writer VW ASHINGTON, May 11. —In their search for the truth of crime technicians of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's analytic laboratory make use of a

| violet light and a vari- | colored fire. Put thus, the business savors somewhat of divining methods em-

ploved in classic antiquity; actually both light and fire are harnessed—as is what

not these days?’—to machines. They stand—these mechanisms —in an inner room of the big

| laboratory here. One of them—the spectograph—is somewhat complex; it is this that works through fire. The other is simplicity In glass and metal, basically nothing more than a long tube of ultra violet light beneath which is a tray to hold whatever is to be tested. The bureau also employs infra-red rays to bring out changes or erasures in documents, but that is scarcely spectacular. “The ultra violet test,” explained the special agent who conducted us about the bureau's headquar- | ters on Pennsylvania Ave. is | sometimes very important. It will

show, for example, whether or not two samples of soil match.” He picked up two fragments of rock, both under ordinary light the same dirty gray-yvellow. “These samples look much the same,” he remarked, superfluously, and placed them under the violet light. At once they were markedly different bits of stone — one of them colored a vivid green. the other a dazzlingly bright yellow.” on »n oN HE agent next apparently unmarked save for the work of the printer, beneath the light. At once there became visible, in strokes of phosphorescent yellow, a superinscribed “NJ15X.” “It brings out invisible writings,” said the agent. “Many laundries, you know, are using invisible ink to mark clothing.” He picked up a starched collar, placed it beneath the light. Written broadly across its surface was the mark “K3870,” which vanished the moment he restored the collar to the table. “They put the markings square across the bosoms of dress shirts,” remarked the agent, with a laugh. “Imagine blundering beneath a glow of ultra-violet while at a formal party! “Where letters or figures have

placed a hill,

\ i

been erased from a document and something else substituted, the light will bring it out,” he continued, seriously. The principle behind the spectrograph is that everything burns with a distinctive color—copper, for example, produces a greenish flame. “Perhaps,” said the special agent, “I can give you a better idea of the way the machine works by telling you of an actual case in which it was used.” un on n ELEPHONE wires had been cut in the perpetration of a

crime. A suspect was arrested, and a jackknife taken from his pocket. We wished to determine

whether the knife had been used to cut the wire. “The technician took the knife and put the back of it between

those electrodes there. Then he took one of these thin metal strips, marked off in scale, and

placed it in the machine. “When the current was turned on the metal of the knife burned with its distinctive color and bars appeared on the scale which fixed its value. Then the technician inserted the blade in the electrodes, with the cutting edge uppermost. This time minute particles of copper adhering to the surface modified the color and produced a different marking on the small sensitized metal sheet which bore the scale. It remained only to place a sample of the wire in the machine; it burned with the same color as had the particles on the knife. We knew then that the knife had been used to cut the wires. “By means of the spectrograph it is possible to determine whether materials match or whether samples of soil or metal have a common source.” ” Nn y FF in a corner of the laboratory were several large trunks which contained portable laboratories for the field. “In a major Kkidnaping case,” remarked the special agent, “the examiner would go right into the field and set up his laboratory out of the trunk. If anything comes up he can't handle he sends it back here by air express.” In the corridor a little flock of tourists was on its way to the exhibit room, where paraphernalia illustrative of the G-Man’'s tech- g nique and the running commentary of a guide (“Yes, there are less than 700 G-Men to protect 155,000,000 people”) would give them somé general understanding of the bureau's work. “More than 5000 fingerprints a

Jzaining G-INEN

day, repeats a fat girl to her companion as they leave the building. “And they say theyre not interested in names!” It is true that there are less than 700 G-Men. The number, it 1s necessarily approximate, stands today at about 680. All special agents at the time of their appointment must be between 23 and 35 years of age; must be graduates of an accredited law school, trained accountants, or have had extensive investigating experience. o on on

BOUT two-thirds of the a agents are law school graduates, 85 per cent are either lawyers or accountants. Their training

period actually never ends; after the three months initial course the special agent goes to work, but he comes up for two weeks’ retraining every 18 months and if he should become agent in charge of any of the 43 field offices spotted about the country he will return to Washington each year for special courses. Every agent brought in to Washington to work as an administrative assistant knows that he must return to the field. Chief clerks are also brought in for additional training from time to time, and there are a number of special courses in scientific subjects, or in the use of firearms, or of sound equipment. The bureau operates on an annual $6,000,000 appropriation and it returns, in savings through fines and recoveries, more than $7 for every dollar it spends. During the last half of 1937 its conviction record for all cases brought to trial was 95.98 per cent; and for a good while longer no more than four out of every 100 brought to trial had been acquitted. “But we need more men,” remarked the stalwart who occupied, for the time being, onc of the half dozen positions as ad-

ministrative assistant. “There are no two ways about it.” The G-Man, this agent ex-

plained, begins at a starting salary of $3200. He receives comparatively slight increases in the normal course of events, but even Director Hoover himself receives only $10,000.

yd ” 4

ROM time to time men are lost to private industry at far higher pay, but the waiting list is long and there are always qualified candidates ready to join the ranks of the students in class= room or on the range. Agents are supposed to keep themselves physically fit, and they do. In Washington there are the

Acme Photo. John Henry Seadlund, who confessed the kidnap- murder of Charles S. Ross, is shown after his capture by G-Men.

regular workouts in the gymnasium. Once every year each man comes up for physical re-exami-nation, as in the military service. The agents say that they do not like to see their names in print. “Once our name gets out it ruins our efficiency in the field,” one explained. “It's a case of here today and gone tomorrow and the less that is known about us the better for the Bureau.” ou » »

HERE are those who refer disparagingly to the FBI's personnel as "Boy Scouts” and it is obvious that to the police officer of a certain type the schooled, scrupulous G-Man must be a perpetual annoyance. The regulations laid down for them by their director are strict and immutable, and even if there were inclination to disregard these on occasion an awareness of the undoubted consequence of violation would prevent it if personal loyalty did not. And personal loyalty to the director would appear universal. Regulations of the bureau, without exception, reflect the convictions of its director. Take those relating to wire-tapping, a subject about which there has been much talk in Washington of late. “I always have been opposed to wire-tapping,” remarked J. Edgar Hoover, FBI director. “When it appeared that it was not illegal, I issued a statement to our personnel pointing out that it was in any event unethical, and ruling that it would be permitted only in such cases as kidnaping, and then not until specific permission had been secured.” It is the practice of the FBI, even in these exceptional cases, to employ wire-tapping merely as a method of getting leads; it is never used as evidence of itself. Wire-tapping does not stand alone among common detective practices to which Mr. Hoover objects. Another, he explained, is the so-called third degree “Any agent who used third degree methods while interrogating a suspect would be dismissed,” he said, firmly. “Our people are permitted to exert force against a prisoner only in the amount required to restrain him, no more. And, of course, in self defense. ” ” n % HE third degree is unnecessary. In the Ross kidnaping case Peter Anders confessed to me after 27 hours of questioning and afterward told his mother that I and the administrative assistant who had helped me were ‘two of the finest men he had ever met. “It’s a matter of using brains

Acme Photo. Charles S. Ross

rather than brawn. A suspect can decide whether you are a phoney or not. He knows you are, for example, when you say you have something on him that he knows you haven't. “But if you show him that you do really know something he wonders what else does he know that ‘he is holding back?’ and his guilty conscience troubles him.” “About the business of giving credit to outside agencies,” he said. “The Ross case illustrates what sometimes happens. I mentioned to the press the aid given by persons in the Los Angeles banks, and the help of the cashiers at the Santa Anita race track. Some papers carried this statement, and some did not. If the men at Santa Anita happened lo see the papers that didn’t carry it they undoubtedly feel that we hogged all the credit. That sort of thing can't be helped, but actually we are always anxious to give credit to outside agencies which have really assisted us.” n ” " HE director—still thinking of the Ross case—spoke with pride of the morale of his men, of

their stamina. “We tramped for 10 miles through the deep snow of the North Woods,” he said, “and when we made camp the agents, although worn out, volunteered to cut down trees for firewood.” He paused, continued: “It was a new experience for us, because we are big town boys, but we could do it because we keep in excellent physical condition.” As demonstrated several times in this series, Mr. Hoover's desire for an increasingly harmonious relationship with local law enforcement agencies has not made him any the less outspoken against what he considers abuse and misuse of authority. Amplifying his denunciation of the dragnet, he

characterized it as “unfair and useless.” Mr. Hoover also deplored the

type of local police chief who tries to “hang” upon a suspect every unsolved offense in his jurisdiction. It is Mr. Hoover's belief, however, that police methods everywhere are gradually improving, and it is his hope that such bureau agencies as the National Police Academy will accelerate that

improvement. ”n ” n yi OU know,” Mr. Hoover was saying, “I don't blame the newspapers, because, as the charge goes, they m a d e criminals romantic. For a long while it was the criminals who were romantic. The law enforcement

agencies did nothing to be made romantic. “But when the law began catching criminals there was. a change of emphasis in the press. “I realize,” said the FBI's director, after a moment's silence, “that public regard is fickle. You may solve all of your cases. “It is not enough to be good. It is necessary to keep on getting better. To get better all the time.”

See This Page Tomorrow for ‘Housing: A Sleepy Giant Stirs.’

Side Glances—By Clark

rn - - on } ; Ye ~N e ’ 1g 3 or » ” pg - ~ 5 fe

’

nD /

2

"Don't fall in love with him. When he

gets tired of your tricycle he will leave you flat."

Jasper—By Frank Owen

RNAS

A

TEST YOUR KNOWLEDGE

1—-In which state is Feather River? 2—What is toxemia? 3—Are women eligible to the Presidency of the United States? 4—What sort of bird is a canvashack?

5—Who was the founder of the Carnegie Institution at Washington, I. C.? 6—Does light travel as fast as electricity? 7—Name the capital of Arkan-

sas? ” ”n ” Answers 1—California.

2—A poisoned condition of the blood. 3—Yes. 4—An American fresh-water duck, regarded as superior to all others for food. 5—Andrew Carnegie. 6—The speed of electricity is assumed to be the same as that of light. T—Little Rock.

ASK THE TIMES

Inclose a 3-cent stamp for reply when addressing any question of fact or information to The Indianapolis Times Washington Service Bureau, 1013 13th St., N. W,, Washington, D. C. Legal and medical advice cannot be given, nor can extended research be wundertaken,

| school. 1

satisfy her and make you feel less guilty.

Our Town

By Anton Scherrer

~A Swiss Wood-Turner Followed a Doctor's Prescription and Put a Scissors-Grinder Out of Business.

OR no reason whatever I got up this morning thinking about the old scissors grinder who, 50 years or so ago, used to ply his trade around here. As near as I recall, he always had his machine strapped to his back which left his right hand free to operate a bell. In his left hand he carried a horn, and I don't know why because I never saw him use it. On the other hand, the bell

was very much in evidence. It was somewhat smaller than the bell our milkman used to announce his arrival, but it was just as loud. It was pitched a little higher, too. Somewhere between the pitch of the two bells came that of the Junkman’s, and once you had your ear trained, it was the easiest thing in the world to differentiate the three trades. Anyway, the junkman and the scissors-grinder never turned up as early as the milkman. Sometimes. too, the scissors-grinder carried a bundle of umbrellas under his left arm The one operating on the South Side always did, I remember, To mix the two trades looks like an anomaly. That's the way it struck me, too, the first time I saw it It turned out, though, that our scissors-grinder was just as good at mending umbrellas as he was at sharpene ing Knives. Somehow, though, I liked him best in the role of sharpening knives. The machine he had was a fair-sized eight-spoked wheel placed inside of what looked like a tripod, except that it had four legs. A leather belt ran around the wheel which in turn operated a little emery wheel. A treadle kept both wheels spinning. The sparks flew like everything when our dull knives came in contact with the fast revolving emery wheel, and I remember I always got kind of scared wondering what would happen if the

Mr. Scherrer

{ grinder lost control of his machine.

Too Much Sawdust

I can’t recall exactly when the old scissors-grinder went out of business, but I know who put him out of business. It was Charlie Lagler, a Swiss who came to Indianapolis in 1876. By trade, he was a woode turner. What's more, a Swiss wood-turner, than which, IT guess, there is none better. Anyway, Mr. Lagler was so good that he never had any trouble finding work. There was a catch to the business, however. The harder he worked, the more sawdust he inhaled. Finally, he had to see a doctor about it. The doctor prescribed outdoor work for him, and that's when Mr. Lagler got the idea of hiring a horse

and putting the grinding business on wheels. It come pletely revoiutionized the industry. It behooves me to say, however, that after Mr,

Lagler got the sawdust out of his system he returned to his first love—that of wood-turning It didn't bring back the old-fashioned scissors-grinder, though.

Jane Jordan—

Girl Unhappy With Life at Home Urged.to Accept Out-of-Town Job,

EAR JANE JORDAN-—I am a girl of 25 and have earned my living since my graduation from high live at home with my parents and two younger sisters. I have never had a room of my own or a place to entertain my friends away from the family. I am neat and orderly but the sister who rooms with me is slovenly and borrows anything [

have without asking. My father is narrow-minded and uncongenial and thinks my money belongs io him. He borrows from me continually but never pays

back a cent. The only one in my family I feel any loyalty toward is my mother who works hard and does the best she can for all of us. I have never had a steady boy friend and feel that I never will as long as I live at home, Now I have the offer of a good job in Cincinnati at a raise in salary. A girl friend of mine who left two years ago to work in Cincinnati wants us to take a little apartment together. My mother doesn't want me to go. She doesn't see how she can make ends meet without my board money, One of my sisters is old enough to work but she had a bad illness some time ago and thinks she isn't strong enough to hold a job although the doctor says she is. I am terribly unhappy at home and I want to go. BACHELOR GIRL. Answer—Go by all means. You can't help your mother by sacrificing your happiness for her. After she has recovered ‘from the wrench of separation she will become reconciled to this fact and if she doesn’t you can't help it Your sister, too, may find the strength to work when your help is withdrawn. It is true that many a bachelor girl has failed to marry because she didn’t have the co-operation of her home. A girl needs a background of hospitality, comfort and friendliness to assist her in finding a husband. Your idea of taking a small apartment with your girl friend in Cincinnati is excellent. I suggest that you furnish it yourselves. There are dozens of ways of dodging expense in furnishing a small place if you substitute ingenuity and taste for money. Two girls with their heart in the task can create that atmosphere of charm and welcome which draws the male like a magnet. I predict that you will develop in your new job and earn more money than you can at home where un= happiness absorbs so much of your energies. In this case you will be able to help your mother which will

JANE JORDAN,

Put vour problems in a letter (a Jane Jordan, who will answer vour questions in this column daily,

Bob Burns Says—

OLLYWOOD, May 11.—-My dad use'to tell me that a fella can get used to anything—even tight shoes. He said if a fella is around anything long enough, it finally gets to be a part of him and he'd miss it if he had to do without it. I knew an old fella down home who was always ailin’. Nobody at home could remember a time when the old man didn't have somethin’ wrong with him. Everybody prescribed medicine for him and he took all of it. Finally one morning he came into the doctor's office and his face was pale with fright. He said, ‘Doc, this is the first time in 40 years that I haven't had an ache or pain and I'm afraid somethin’ is wrong with me.” (Copyright, 1938)

Walter O'Keefe—

OLLYWOOD, May 11.—The life of the average Congressman will soon be depicted in a release of the March of Time newsreel. They were to have finished it last week, but Senator Bankhead, one of the extras, broke his toe. Reports say that he stume= bled over a copy of the Congressional Record. If any scene in the picture shows a Congressman worrying it should capture the award for the best acting of the season. Naturally, the story will carry a lot of suspense All through the unraveling of the plot it shows the wife and kiddies wondering what's become of father, ~The Pulitzer Prize Committee probably will award it first place, sight unseen, as the outstanding comedy of the season.

J