Rensselaer Journal, Volume 11, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 September 1901 — THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY

BY RODRIGUES OTTOLENGUI,

Author of “An Artist In Crime,” “A Conflict of Evidence » “A Modern Wiaard,” “Final Proof,” Etc. ’ Copyright, 1896 , by G. P. Putnam's Son*. AO rights reserved.

ICONTINUKD.I “Yes, In the eyes of the law I ant a murderer who should he hanged. Perhaps in the eyes of the •Almighty Father I am an Instrument of justice. Now that I have told you all you will more readily comprehend the craving for blood which seized me when in this monster, who had thus cruelly

treated an infant, I recognized my own father. You will understand better how the second paroxysm attacked me In his room when I learned that the man who had stolen my Lilian’s heart was my own brother and that thus, in spite of my self sacrifice, the offspring of piy beloved would have a heritage of crime which traced back to my own progenitor. You will comprehend with, what fiendish joy I sprang upon the man who was at once the author of my being and of all my suffering and wrongs. You will see why I took the will which deprived my brother of one-half of his fortune. That is the story of the killing of Matthew Mora. Was it a murder? I will not ask for the verdict of my fellow men, but will abide by the decision of my Maker.” “There Is still one point which I would like to have explained,” said Mr. Barnes. “Mora’s valet pos’t’voly asserts that he saw his master in the house that night and that he helped him to dress in the plaid suit. I low do you account for that?” “Very easily,” said Preacher Jhn. “The valet only tells this story at my request. After the death of Slippery Sam I fully decided upon my own course. Upoa one thing, however, I was determined—this man Mora, my own half brother, should right the wrong which he had done to Li.ian. I knew of his visits to the rich girl up > town and feared that it might be dis ficult to coerce him. The valet is a member of our organization, aud therefore it was easy for me to gain his cooperation, and he readily consented to tell you the story which convinced you, Mr. Barnes, that Mora was guilty. Thus I hoped to have you arrest him, and when once more in custody I would have been able to bring him to terms by offering him his liberty, which he could only have obtaiued through my confession," “What will you do now?” asked Mr. Barnes. % “Ah, that la simple! Thanks to Mr. Mltchel, my Lilian is now a lawful wife, with her bnbe restored to her. You see, I know all at last. My Inhuman father is dead. My poor mother lies in her grave. Why should I live longer? Mr. Bnrnes, I deliver myself to you as your prisoner.” “No, no, Mr. Barnes!” cried Mr. Mltchel. “Do npt touch him. This man shall go forth from my house, as he entered it, a free man.” “You are wrong, Mr. Mltchel, though I thank you most sincerely. I must surrender to the law. Why not let Mr. Barnes have the glory of seeming to have unraveled the mystery and claim Mora’s proffered reward?” ■ “I should not make such a claim,” retorted the detective. “No; I think you are a more honest man,” said Preacher Jim. “But If you hand me over to the authorities you will receive credit, and thus I shall do some good In the world. Besides, you have sufficiently earned Mora’s money and ought to have It.” “But why should you give yourself up at all?” argued Mr. Mltchel. “Yon have suffered so much that It would be an Injustice for you to suffer more.” “It is Inevitable, and It Is best. You forget that 1 have cbmmitted a second murder. I killed Slippery Sam. That, too, was in a moment of uncontrollable emotion. I had just witnessed the death of my mother. I went forth into the street and ran along aimlessly. By chance I approached your doorway, and I saw Slippery Sam leave your house. Instantly I jumped to the conclusion that he had betrayed me, for he knew tlie.truth. He knew when I took the plaid suit and wheu I returned it. In fact, he knew everything. In the disordered state of my mind It was impossible for me to reason calmly. I seized Sam by the throat. lie had a knife in his hand. I wrenched It from him and killed him. As be fell the cunning of the beast—no; the cunning of the man whqHs worse than a beast—came to me. I knew that you would kuow of this murder cofumltted

so near your house. I recalled the arguments aud theories that we had exchanged, and I slipped the/will Into the poor dying boy’s pocket that you might find it there aud be mystified.” “It did puzzle me for a time,” admitted Mr. Mltchel. Aud so, you see,” said Preacher Jim, almost wearily, “the end must come now. I cannot permit myself to live longer. My father was a Sadist. The love of -cruelty which made lilm strangle a poor defenseless monkey, which caused him once to tie a boy up by his thumbs In a garret aud leave him there until he fainted, which prompted him to pinch and kick aud otherwise torture children and animals, has been transmitted to me, his firstborn, his abaudoned son, in a more virulent form. Twice I have yielded to the craving for blood. Twice I have taken human life. lam a fiend in human guise, a beast, a monster. Nothing is left for me on earth. No human love can be mine. For me there Is no charity, no reformation, no salvation. I am a menace to my kind. There Is nothing for me but extermination. I must be eoudemned to die. All I ask Is that at the supreme moment when I am sentenced I may be allowed to speak, to tell my story, that it may appeal to civilization, to humanity. In behalf of those utterly forlorn creatures, the congenital criminals. That will be my last sermon. And may God have mercy on my soul!” THE END.

He leaped back into the street and hurried up town.