By EDWIN BALMER add MAf&Er
■SR »■■ t&i *•» i
THE KILLING
* ' *'
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ViDBNCE) was what the
; State' needed : The police
had made plenty of ar
rests; they had ht least
Wxty "suspects” safe and
harmless, for the brief
tltne being, behind jail
bars, fcvery man Jack of
theta—dnd every1 Jill—
ftotf a crook with a rec
ord; and every plain
clothes detective of the
V Central _ office detail,* and
th^ officer's In uniform who patiently
and methodically had "picked them
up” again oft last night’s orders to
ronrld bp susplefotis characters, knew
perfectly well that each prisoner was
gnllty of a crime.
The trouble was to prove It and
i*x t0 connect the Identity of each Jack
and Jill with his or her most glaring
dereliction In the line of "stick-up” or
, "peter-bl owing,” second-story Job or
confidence game. That usually Is the
trouble. To arrest a “known” crim
inal' and to prove bis guilt to the
prompt satisfaction of a grand Jury
i are very different matters. :
Accordingly, very few of the gentle
men and of the young ladies—for all j
• the ladles .were young—who abode
behind the bars npon this fine Janu
ary morning were bothered by any
considerable anxiety. For most of
them; even for the boys under twenty
and for most of the girls, the “pick
up” was on old story. Any "bull”
could arrest yoUk If he wanted to take
the ' trouble; any cop could "paste
something on you"—book you on a
criminal charge, that is—but to
"make It stick," to prove it, that cer
tainly was Something else again.
The bulls had not only to dig up
evidence to support each charge, but
they had to dig it up quick. The
British earls and barons had seen to
that way back In the year 1215 when
they chased Kfng John on to the
swamp of Runnytnede and forced him
to forbid, forever,' that man or woman
be imprisoned sav# by due process of
legal trial and sentence.
To all but possibly one of the
gentlemen behind th<? bars, and bd
yohd doubt to all of tbe ladies, the
name of Runnytnede oi1 even of the
Magna Charta would comb as a com
plete surprise; but wltlir the most
famous fruit of the Great Charter—
the wit of habeas corpus—every one
was on terms of fondest famfllarlt/.
Indeed they called It by nickname,
“Hayble." in behalf of each of them
the Inalienable right under the law
would be Invoked this morning, and
each prisoner knew it Moreover, it
would be Invoked without his having
to do anything about it for the or
ganization "outside” would see to
that , . . . ■
u worked, automatically, in this
tray. When at liberty and at his or
her round of usual activities, each
Jack .and Jill reported, by telephone,
at certain fixed hours to one or an*
other of a certain ring of lawyers.
When a client fatted to report on
time, the lawyer marked his name,
-.and when a .second report period
5 passed without a call, the lawyer, as
suming that his client was arrested,
could be counted upon to appear at
the opening of court with a writ of
habeas corpus In hand, demanding—
In voice distinctly echoing the stern
tones of Runnymedo—by what right
the court deprived a man of liberty.
Accordingly, composure character
ised the tienrlug of the' slxty-odd prls
, oners behind the bi)rs. During the
Inaugural hours of the pick-up, there
had been, to be sure, an element of
uncertainty as to whether the extraor
dlnary girl, Kitty Hewitt, who had
: called tlie cops and brought them
V with her to Harper Colton’s, had also
‘‘spilled’’ to the cops what she knew.
But quickly It had become clear to
the sixty that she had contented her
self with saving the MacLaren kid
and Doctor Darnnd ahd that she was
keeping her mouth shut Otherwise. <
1 But she knew too much—altogette
er too much for a girl who. In any
cause or on behalf of any one. would
call the cops.
The Incident, as whispered from
Ups to ear about the cell tier of the
Jali, ran something aa follows:
“Ed Pellen’s 'skirt* crossed 'as.**
said lips.
"Which one!” asked earfc
/ "The one he’s after but ain’t got
Kit Hewitt. She butts InftMs way.
A kid named MacLaren ^ froth ttte
.-country conies up with a fift r&ft ttr
buy some city lota. Gerve Lnvvy gets
a the tip and tnkes the kid In hand.”
; Jk Gerve, as every ear knew, wns a
/'gunman connected with m mntellng
joint run by one ;Grame hdV owhed
by a„ citizen w^th a , rrtpdWdVNf
“front” named Harper Colton. '
“Now Gerve wunts to be gentle, so
Instead of pulling a v plain ‘rough*
(robbing the boy by violence) b#
. leads him to Grume’s Joint and lets
the cards and table do their duty.*
V “The kid loses his roll. but. tdtfleffil
of going home and being good, he'biis
to nose around—and what does he
do bnt find out that Harper Coltdfc
Is drawing down money from Grume
‘and owns the Joint. So the kid goes
to Harp and says he’U expose him
-
Not Altogether a Joke
;. rot ywoea James D. JJoyd of Tal
#IfijiWl#al»p. told friends ;hp *wgs^
'‘banking his money with the angels."
- Every one thought he was “off” until
v? It was revealed that ha had $2,500
|;t • hidden la a cemeterjf.
w . v v «■ T vVVVVvVYV v
,;<) • - (Copyright by W. G Chspmuilf ■•«.;■»
unless Harp pays all the money hack.
’’iJarp gets dll worked up because
oobotiy’s supposed to know he’s mix
ing with GrUUie, and especially trot
that he’d drawing down from the
Joint; because Hurp got himself mar
ried d whire ago to a' dwell skirt that
nev£r Seen Grame aticf fcheW nothing
of the joint. So Burp holds ffie kid
and sends for Grame. Weir, Grame
Just naturally taps' the kid off the
head'; but be does It at the swell big
house where Harp lives,' and tl}at‘
raises a hoWh • Because the iast thing
Harp wants pulled in his Bouse IS a
•rough.’ *
"But Harp’s wife'is away add the
SfadLaren kid Is unconscious but hot
quite croaked. Harp believes he’B go
ing to CrOatc, but Harp' figures be" Caff
save a lot of inquiry if he makes It
look like an accident happened while
falling at his house; so be stages the
accident stuff and calls in Dr. Ber
tram 'Darand, because , he’s young and
in swell society and comes of the
right kind of family so that anybody
would believe what he says.
“Well, Doctor Darnnd comes to the
house and Colton pulls the accident,
but Darand sees through It; and
there’s nothing to do but croak both
the kid and Darand, when that good
looking skirt, Kitty Hewitt, butts in.
She’s soft on Darand and she calls
the cops. Grame and Harp have Just
time to skip; Darand ain’t hurt at
all. so he gets the MacLaren kid to
the hospital, where he comes to and
spills his story. Well, everybody
makes the big howl. They gotta
clean up the city. A guy, going down
the street, mindin’ bis own busiuess,
passed a bull he’s spoke civil to every
day for months, an’ gets tapped on
the shoulder. So here we all are I
“And all because of that Hewitt
dame 1”
Such was the story of effect and
cause as whispered about the cell tier
of the jail to those of the sixty who
did not yet understand the whole rea
son for their detention. Affothef
crime clean-up was on; aPd' if had
been brought about by Kitty Hewitt,
who waat not, herself, of the under
world, btft was known to be the
friend fff Eld Pelien, notorious gun
man.
Such Was the resentment spread,
with increasing Intensity, throughout
the ’TariOus regions "of the Chicago un
derworld' on the evening of the day
after the habeas corpus1 lawyers bad
done their duty and the sixty froth
the Jail returned to their companions
and confederates.
Ed Pelien hod been In the pick-up.
fndeed, a pick-up In 'Chicago which
did not Include Ed Pelien was on the
face of It a half-hearted affair. The
police always picked up Pelien. but
nerer were able to “bold*’ him. And
though today there was nothing
proved against him, so that agala be
had to be released,- yet the newspa
pers played hbn up as a principal
In the affair. His picture was one
of the three large photographs spread
across the second page of the eve
ning paper which Dr. Bertram Darand
had open beside his plate as he sat
down alone to his supper
The photograph to the left, ah
abominable snapshot of Bertram him
teelf, exaggerated—so It seemed to
Bertram—every feature of bis own
Ineffectiveness. It showed, to be sure,
a good-looking and refined young
man, but Ineffective; yes; all of that;
particularly to comparison With the
.photograph of the handsome and dar
ing-looking young man opposite It r
The very legends under the ph*
jtures seemed to Bertram contrasts
‘In effectiveness; for the lines describ
ing himself said:
■ - "Dr. Bertram Darand, Who was
called In by Harper Colton to witness
the prepared ‘actfdent’ at Colton's
residence. Doctor Darand, a young
physician' In practice on the north
Sftfe Is the grandson of Marshall Dar
and, one of the leaders In Chicago
thirty years ago and famous as a
builder of .the World’s Fair. Doctor
Darand'8 mother was a reigning belle
in Chicago society."
The legend under the contrasting
picture rend:
"Eddie Pelien. alias Big Black, alias
Walter Singer, etc., best known as
‘Eddie the Immune.' Antecedents,
birthplace and &rly Environment nit-"
known.” 51 ’ r ■ ?
BetWeEn Ae pt'dtui'Os of the two
men, as though between two rtVajtf,
was the photograph of a* girl—a gay
looking, blithe and lovely girl, with
fair hair and,Smiling lips and bea#'
tlful eyes' gazing toward PellemHer
lefeqg'd1 read":1 *. ;i;
’ ‘"The girl known to many members
$ north side Society as' Amy \Vfo£
a teacher of Mah Jong. She knew
Doctor Darand and, to a. manner not
yet explained satisfactorily^ learned
of his detention at Colton# home,
whereupon she cMieff the polled Whti
rtlsehefi Dhrantf and youtiif MacLarei
Iv ‘’.S<H<jl to be ldentlhOd with tri ex
traordinary character known, to a
: very . different sort 1 of society, - as
‘Kitty Hewitt* and to be well ac
quainted with Pelien."
That she herself was Kitty Hewitt
Doctor Darand knew; and, while ha
English Civil War '
Sad Palm Sunday was. March 29,
1463, the day of the battle Of Toxvtoo,
the moat fatal of all the’battles to the
Wars of the Roses. It was estimated
that more tban 87,000 Englishmen
were slain.
[ sat'alone eating Ms cafeteria supper,
h«? was speculating as to her present
| posit loh l/t fhghrfl io fcrfdh* I'ettA.
F6f, after having a’ccbmpanfCd thy
fio1!t.ce,. whom she had called to Col
ton’s botne in time to save tinrahd
an<f MacI.riren, she bad disappeared;
i and Bertram did not have to know
the whispers which this day had
run from lips to ear $ about the coun
ty jail to recognize that the girt
tnust be in great danger because of
what she’ had done for him.
Where was' she thnlghf and With
whonf? Beilefr? t
I%Ten undoubtedly knew Where to
find1 her, If h!h Wanted her company;.
Bertram knew ho more than the ad
dress Which she used, under the name
of Amy Wing, Blah Jong teacher; and
at that address Inquiry, drew only a
blank today. Uneasily Bettrani Wand
ered about the* city streets:
A light, dry snow whs falling
. fhrotigh the air,- Which was'almost
still; it Was1 ten degrees or so helffw
freezing, but the night Shemed only
pleasantly crlSp. The ShdW-wihdOwS
of the large stores were all alight,
i theatre and film-house facades gilf
r.; teredf with their electric signs Under
| which throngs of people were’ crowd
ing to the doors for the opening
shows. Into a corner tobacco shop
Bertram walked, and bought a pack
age of cigarefs.
A thick-set man in a brown ^over
coat and derby was buying a cigar,
and, as he turned, Bertram vaguely
recognized the dark, large-featured
face. Yet the fellow simply glanced
at Bertram and without showing any
recognition went out. Suddenly Ber
tram remembered him. The man
was Furgrister, of the special detail
of plain-clothes detectives who were
working in the .clean-up; Furgrister
was the officer who had “picked up”
Eddie Pelien this last time.
Bertram hurried out and followed
with an impulse to overtake Furgris
ter to ' inquire where Pelien might
now oe found. Furgrister was off
duty, Bertram thought; and be felt |
anre of this as he saw that the plain
clothes man was making for the Au
dltorlain Theater on the next corner,
where' Grand Opera was on tonight
"Bertie, hello I” the pretty daugh
ter of Henry Fraley hailed hfin. "Why
not come along with us7 We've two
dStfa chairs I Oh, you're not dressed
■—well never mind that!"
“You’re getting famous," the debu
tante daughter of Logan Grier told
him gaily.. “Tonight's papers are full
of you I I’m dying to hear about all
the gunmen. Bertram. And that girl
they say saved you."
But Bertram escaped them and
stood farther away from the door but
still In sight of Furgrister, who was
smohlng bis second cigar as be gazed.
Idly yet curiously, at the crowd vis
ibly diminishing. So few remained
about the door that Bertram noticed
for the first time that Furgrister evi
dently had had a companion on watch
beside him. The men did not speak,
they merely glanced at each other,
whereupon Furgrister moved away,
leaving the other on watch. Follow
ing Furgrister, Bertram was led
around thd corner to the entrance for
the galleries', where a' mad ap
proached Furgrfsterand. merely with
a shake df his' heatt .made a negative
report Furgrister stepped Into the
pharmacy upon the corner and en
tered a telephone bdoth. He wad
making hi* report Bdrtrtfm thought;
nut In a momeht, Wheii' Furgrister
emerged, it #mf ptnftr that lie had
learned something, too. His manner
bad become suddenly alert He
stepped to the curb and signaled a
taxi; and Bertram walked up beside
“Get in," he said abruptly to Ber
tram. n&d£hlsing him and command*
big him at the same Instant He held
the door open and Bertram got In.
“Cleahy’s," the plain-clothes man di
rected the driver. “D’you know It 7“
“Emirs7" said the youth at the
Wheel expectantly.
Sensitive Apparatus
So sensitive *ts<;n smoke-registering
device on ■- German passenger liner
that If * person iwtth a lighted ciga
rette steps Into e1 room where there
ie a fire hazard the fact Is signaled on
,the bridge.
^ T h"O U ‘<i T~|
“Ifctke- IfsiaApy,” ordered Furgrls
tef, *Ad ■ the totter sMrfed *t ft so
snnftAiy that Furgftsier" bounded
against Heft tain tig life seated MnrsdTf.
“All right now, doctor," life Invited,
tA eicfellfeif spltlts. “Telfc tt to the.”
“1 sdvV you lA the cigar dtoffe,’’ bfe
gan Bertram, ana knew that It wfes a
stupid opening. v
“The smoke there didn’t bother'my
eyes,” said Furgrlster. . t /;
“I mean,? said Bertram, “when I
saw you t to ask rfbdui Pel
lea.” \ t ■ A.‘ ,\j vv..-: .
,,I'ellf-h?” ;feplatted Ftrfgfliter. '' V
“Pel I eh.” . .fehttf Bertram. :,
"Well. It'si all thfe sahfe thing,”
said Furgrfslfer' “She’s with him.”
“Kitty Hewitt* you mean?”
“Didn’t you?"
“Yes. Where are they?*4' . ^
“Did you catch where I told the
cab to go?” ,
“Cleahy’s, you sftld.”
“That’s the place.”
Bertram cleared fils throat and de
manded boldly i “What’s on tonight
at Cleahy’s'?” -'«• !>..'■
Furgrlster chewed Ms eigaT afid
shook fils head. “You’ll see, doctor!
By —you’re n\ doctor, ain’t yira?
Bight on hand, a doctor I
Bertram sat back in his seat be
side Plain-Clothes Officer furgrlster.
Cheer Ailed OAlcfer Furgrlster; with
each mile clicked off by the cab' lie
showed himself more and more grati
fied with his anticipations; but Ills
satisfaction never made hfm more
communicative. In contrast to him,
with each mile Bertram Darand be
came more filled with foreboding.
Thus, after half an honr’S ride to
gether, they Came at Inst to ihe white
pillared. gay facade of Cledny’s caffe.
At tlielr elbows entered epger, hod
estly hurrying couples: a ^shlpping
clerk with a check-out girl, an account
ant with his comptometer Operator, &
clothlng-housfe “cutter” with a dark
haired, black-eyed buttonhole-maker;
to these Cleahy’s was' on aspiration..
/ r#::-. r'' —
or coarse the demi-monde 'was rep
resented in that large Inner hall of
Cleahy’s where a hundred tables with ■
places for four or six at each, clus
tered about the shining dance-floor.
Such, upon this January night, was
Cleahy’s, where music was playing as
Doctor Darand entered: beside Plain
Clothes Officer Furgrlster, The wide
oblong of the dance-floor was half
tilled, although It was little after nine
o’clock; for Cleahy made a specialty
of dinners and had as famous a chef
as there was In the city. Most of
the couples now dancing probably had
dined here; and this ,t speculation
caught Bertram- Darand with sharp
poignancy as he recognized jupon the
dance-floor Kitty Hewitt In the arms
of Eddie the Immune. --’. - ,
Then Bertram heard , the blonde
Miss Fisher speaking. >
“You came quick, Len," the said
to the plain-clothes officer.
“I like to be in lime, Kate," Mild
Furgrlster, tilting back. In his chair
and lighting another cigar.
“Shall we dance?” murmt&ed Doc
tor Darand to the pretty girl at bis
side.
“I’d like to," she said.
As they moved out u$on ‘ the floor,
he saw that Kitty Hewitt and Pellen
were not leaving their table In the
corner. But Kitty Hewitt gazed at
Bertram and nodded to him, then she
glanced at the girl With , him and
nodded more slightly, whereupon
Satlle Keller inclined her dark head.
Pellen stin paid ho attention to Fur
grister or Bertram, or to hither of
their partners. ... -v/i. '-r : •
“You know her?” said Bertram, as
iKey. danced,., ..,, , , £*•,•«;... ?:
“Sure I know her." said Sallle Kel
««V '/ "I
-. "Yob know him?” '
-Sure I do." ,
Adroitly Bertram steered her
through the maze of dancers to a vu
cant coffler of the floor that they
might talk without being-overheard. ,
“What’s'on’here tonight?" be ahked.
“What would you think would be •'
-t in-V'-' I v-^%1in;ir r g
No Good Cesnuel
“A, man may speak his mind with
candor," said HI Her—the sage of y
Chinatown, “and,jet give no good
counsel If he too often asserts the
general human privilege of changing
It”—Washington Star.
on after--" game said suggestively
and stopped. , , . y, . '
"Alter what if demanded Bertram.
“Her calling the cops—double-Croas
Ing Pellen’s mob.” .
"Ton meart when she cataC to Col
ton’s house fte me?*
“Hm-m," nodded Sallle. "That
madChCr popular With Grame, don’t
yon think?” ,, ,,
“Grame!” -fCpeatCd Bertram.
“But be won’t hurt her. Eddie’s the
guy Grame wants.”
"Grame!” said Bertram again. "Ton
mean Grame is coming here—to get
him tonight?”
sallle laughed? "How do I know
j Who’S coinin'7 Ont^—Grame ain’t no
| Tire mfisfc stopped noW; and titan
| an encore played. Bot Bertram’s
I dancing beCamC mechanical.
A new party of four had cOtrie In
and were taking a tobfe to the right
of Officer Furgrlpter and ten yards or
so! away from Kitty Hewitt and EcV
Pellen.' Fnrgrlster and the girls also
! were observing them; two young men
;they were, and two gtfls; and one of
the' men; at least, looked familiar to
Bertram.
“GerVe La^Vy!” Bertram heard the
' Fisher gin Whisper to Fnrgrlster. At
1 thC name the detective nodded with
■ satisfaction. S6 Grame’s agents lmd
arrived find thd chief of them was
Gerve Lavvy, a gunman and runner
for the gambling-house just closed.
He was a pale, impeccably garbed
youth with a rat-Uke face and furtive
eyes.
> It was a few minutes after twelve—
testimony afterward proved it was al
most precisely ten minutes after mid
night—when Pellen, In the corner,
Offered the .opening for which Gerve
Lavvy proved to have been waiting.
Pellen seemed to be satisfied that lie
had Stayed long enough after Lawy’s j
arrival; Bellet signaled his waiter |
! and Called for his check.
Now Gerve Lawy anted; and the
tlrfee others at his table watched him.
Furgrister watched him; so did Ivate
Fisher and Sallle Keller and Doctor
Darand. But Bertram gazed also at
•the table In the corner and he saw
that Pellen’s eyes were Upon Grame’s
agent and so were Kitty Hewitt’S
dyes, too. They understood what Ber
tram also Was comprehending; the
paying of Pellen’s Check was the
signal for which the four at Lawy’s
table had been Waiting.
Pellen now did a deliberate and
noticeable thing. He leaned forward
a trifle and placed his hands upon his
table; they were open and palm
downward and spread so that any one
could see they were empty. He spoke
shortly to Kitty Hewitt and Bertram
saw her look at Pellen’s hands; then
she glanced swiftly across to the po
lice table. Bertram thought that her
eyes for a second met his, but they
did not linger. They went to Gerve
Lavvy, who Was standing beside his
own table; then with peculiar, stiff
Steps—as though Lavvy felt his knees
not quite dependable—he strode to
ward Kitty Hewitt and Pellen.
"Hello, Ed,” Lawy hailed, hot quite
steadily, when be was a few feet off.
•‘Hello,’’ replied Pellen In a lower
tone, but steadily. Kitty Hewitt did
not speak and Pellen did not move. In
particular Bertram noticed that he
kept his hands palm downward upon
■the top of the table. •>
“Hello Kit,? Lawy addressed the
■girt now. ' viV; . .
It she made an answer, Bertram did
not hear it 5
Lawy took a couple more steps
with his queer, stiff-kneed walk and
reached1 the table and leased one
hand u£on It
"You ain’t go in’, Ed?" asked Law?.
“I'm through here now," said Pel*
; len. . , ' "'. ' ' (
“I ain’t” returned Lawy sharply.
"I want a dance and 1 want it with
■ Kit” .' . ■ \
“She’s going with me,” answered
Pellen quietly.
“6h» noi” Lawy’s pale, rat-like
face, twitched. “Not If I want her,
she ain’t!”
“Not if you want her!” repeated
Pellen and took a step forward and
spoke to Lawy in a whisper which
Bertram could not heat For an in
stant Grame’f ., agent recoiled; then,
drunk With tocalne, ,h%.*tepped,-for
ward with a wavering' gesture and
leered down at Kitty,
"Come on. Kit,” he commanded
loudly. “You taktn’V'orders frogi him?
Well, f ain’t •YuS’anfi me are gonna
dance.” s.
“Beat It.” warned Pelietf curtly;
but Lawy reached a hand toward
?itty. „ ”
“Edl” krted Kitty and grasfsCd 'at
his arm.dn her appeal. “Ed, don’t mind
him I—I don’t” . .. ’ ;
Now Lawy (^dressed her. “You’re
gonna dance with me, kid I” And he
snatched at her. /
With a choking sound, Pellen
lunged forward. Then Kitty Hewitt
was beside him; grasping his arm.
trying to pull him away, pleading with
him. But he flung her aside; ajad as
she stumbled from the force With
which Pellen had thrown her off, .Doc
tor Darand stood up. S ': *
He realized only as he saw her
catch her balance a couple of yards
from her table that the girls nbxt to
him were scurrying aside. Just then
Furgrister leaped out of the way, and
in that Instant shots roared—one .and
two, and three 1 The gas of the
smokeless powder stung in Doctor
Docand’8 nostrils; and hb beheld at
his feet Lawy, lyflng crumpled, mo
tionless upon the floor. Pellen was
standing over hiui a blue automatic
In his hand. There came a rush.
Arms from behind seized Pellen'and
* Plain-Clothes Officer Furgrister ad
vanced with a/jr@volvbr, covering him.
Panic shook the room, with women
vV llili'i ' * r immLmlmmimmmm
: Oae
It la remarkable how much finer
horseback riders the poor oront be
than the rich. Thus you must hate ;
noticed that poor youths never. j-r*
thrown and- injured hi pole raatekm,
—New . 5. ^ 1
: itvafn*- . <tv . (
JpfMl people Jiiimiilii:: tin- .i- • .
til iiiiit (irii' iuo'nihi/ of' ; i*«
Ifomoy intrant) stun t itiixi-'H ' n-.
knMt beside the mini on uir <0 :
lll» feet HIWl IHIt<>l)l;lli<-il;l>
gcbn, so/ bhoVlt ex'Ai/ilhi/ft /its »■
"I (?..£ hrfbT :t([ right." H W;i- I
I Pefie/i’s hi/riY, of cur voire vi'lln-fi f; .
tram at first’ /licju&ht spoke iftii j
"Don't \voiTy.” said ihe Mi<-. M ]
hiiti." Then Bertram" /ouffzorf (U;<> '
Peiien was speaking io Kitty Ifcuitt. ]
i Another . voice afddresfscd CfOrt ram,
• "How fs he, doctor? flow is he?" j
Tills was Kurgrister;
“Dead,” replied Bertram. r
•Well.’’ demanded Pellen's voice. “It i
had to he. didn’t ft?"
“Too hdd, Ed,” sttltf the pliflh-clbtftei
ihrfn hoarsely. “You’re In /or ft tills
time." : "
“Yotf saw It!" Kitty Bewltt’a
voice rose hysterically. “All these
people save It! f.tfvvy picked a quarrel
—jkot/ off isrftf him dh lit"
Peiien put out his hand tb qtilet
heir, “it’s ‘frnrtied/ Kit ; of course it's
•fratned.’ They’re going to railroad
trib.’’
, “They shan’t!“ “ ; , .
’ “Come on,” ordered Furgrlster. and
he started Peiien for the door. Two
detectives followed close behind; out
side, the “wagon"—It realff was a
motor-wagon—was waiting and with
out more ado they put Peiien In.
“Take me with him!” Kitty Hewitt
begged; but they thrust her back and
the police car drove oil.
“I’ll take her home,” Bertram said
nnd freed her from the officer’s grasp.
He turned to Clenhy, the proprietor
of the place, who was close beside
him. “Can you give me a room—your
office will do—for a few moments?"
Clealiy showed them the office and
went out, closing the door.
, She sank upon a chair and her head
/dll forward and her shoulders were
shaken with pitiful sobs. Beside her
Bertram stood, trying to collect his
thoughts. !
Kitty Hewitt controlled her sob
bing and repeated: “They’ll railroad
him. They’ll railroad (hlin.” She re
iterated the bitter phrase for false
evidence given to convict. “That’s
what they mean to do.” -
Did /hey mean to' “railroad" him?
Bertram wondered. Or had they seen
peiien draw his gun first and shoot?
Kb one. not a person in all the room,
had come to support Kitty Hewitt
when she had cried out her testimony
against the police. And hers must be
prejudiced evidence, If any way. If
the police would have seen the fact
only as they wished to see it, was
it not equally true that she would
have seen what she’ wished?
Bertram said, thinking of - this,
“What Is he* to you?"
“Nothing!” she denied. “Nothing!
Absolutely nothing at all!"
"Nothing?” cried Bertram. “That
can t oe true." \ V '
“I mean. I’m not hi# wife or bis
woman or even Engaged to him.
Nothing, nothing at nil is between us.
No one can say there f£ I can give
my honest evidence for him.”
“What ts he' to you, then?” Ber
tram asked again. ' '
•Til tell yob! tffe grew np like
brother and sister together. The
s&me thing bad happened to us. We
didn't have any people. I didn’t have
any at all. He had his mother. She
took me ict; she brought ine up. When
she got sick, Eddie tried to take care
of ids mother and me 'and himself. I
The first crooked Job he got In was
for me. OfeouVse 1 didn’t know It.
He was In love with me. He wanted
to give me things; then he got In
deepOr and deeper. Bat he never
murdered; And’ he didn’t tonight
You saw It, doctor. Ydu’li swear to
the truth with me,- won’t you? Won’t
yon?” ■ ■ .
Doctor Durand knelt beside her.
“God help me, Kitty," he cridd. "I
didn’t see It When they fired, I was
looking at you.” € *
“Oh I” she stjhbli"' fbh r She
tossed up her head and stared at him
and saw he was telling thi troth.
“Then they got him. TjttSy got him.
For him. there’s just me^ ’’But you’ll j
stand by me, doctor, ail yon can. won’t !
you? You’re tlie only friend I have
now, free, in the world."
“I’ll stand by yon," Bertram said,
"you can be abiblutety sure.”
Dr. Bertram Darand, grandson of
Marshal Darand and son of a once*
reigning belle of Chicago society, tele
phoned at one o’clock that morning to
Mrs. Henry Fraley, who had been a
friend of his mother’s. Never would
Bertram have appealed tb his moth
er’s friend directly for hltnself; but
.tonight he needed’’A safe refuge,
among his Own people, 'for Kitty
Hewitt, and it Whs Offered her, and
sp. In’ the samb hour, he took her to
the' Fraleys* home on the Drive.
He had made explanation in ad
vance, so when he brought Kitty to
;the graystohe manOn Mrs. Fraley
Asked no question but tookthe girl at
.once to her care and put her to bed.
Bertram waited below and at last
1 his mother’s friend came down to
•him. “I believe' ifiie’A the loveliest
•creature I have dvdA seen,* Mrs. Fra
; ley said. '7
“She’s thS loveliest Fve ever met,"
| said Bertram. ’’Take: rare of her—
[awfiiliy good csffijt Oh, I know .von
will. But she's' had a dlifefent sort of
deal in life froW any other girl yon
. ever knew.” '■
Morning neSr^afSftrS began to up
ipear; attd In the dawn of light, as
once before, Doctof Drarand rend the
•headlines of an exploit of Eddie the
Immune; but this1 time the headlines
jtold that “they" bad him. He had
•shot a man before i score of eye
witnesses who had throvhk a net of
evidence around him frotq which he
could never escape; : 1
The tropical storm whic^ has been
raging around Cuba, in which 100
lives were lost, swiped parts of Flor
ida and strufck Corpus Christi, Texas,
yesterday. Great property damage
has been done all alout? the 200 mile
swath the storm cot,-Tile ’worst was
supposed to be oy«u . .
fIMETO REFLECT
: h : V - y
Sdys Farmer Cannot Make More
Thai* $500 Yearly By
t>, ■ ■> HimsPlf
Mr. O. J. Peterson, one of the most
able editors in the State, in an edi
torial in the Dtfnh Dispatch, Analyzes
the fU'rtter’a income in comparison
with the sealC of industrial wiges set
by NRA. ?
If jt were possible, be sdys, to fur
nish the masses labor in the industries
at the rate’s approved by the NRA
the farthefs find fktin harids would
see salvation1 thereby, since the draft
upon farm labor *6uId become so
great and the number of farmers and
laborers so few that prices would rise
sufficiently to justify a fair price for
farm labor. But such a thing is an
impossibility so long as the farmers
and farm laborers are so pobrly re
munerated that they cannot become
buyers on a large scale, inability to
buy decreases demand for the pro
ducts of industry to such extent as
to make general employment Out of,
the question. . :
The authorities that we have, seem
ingly, never considered the. compara
tive income of farmers and farm la
borers. Evep wheh; a parity,,of buy
ing powef is soUght for the'various
groups; it seem's hot tO fosvl entered
the heads of the planners that the in
come of the farm population in the
period Chosen to furnish the basis fof
the parity of prices was so 10% that it
did nbt begin t6‘ Compare with the inf
come provided by the NRA codes far
the very lowest grades of industrial
workers. ,
Farm income's ahd farm %ages in
the period befbre the world war were
miserably low. It was only the de
mand f6r timber arid the increased
price of lands that enabled farmers, to
show the degree of prbsperity that
appeared., Only during the war period
was it passible. f6r farmers to pay
wages for a 72-^pur Week commensur
ate %ith the $12 wage provided as the
minimum for industrial workers on a
basis of 40 hours a week. And it is
still impossible for a farmer either
to pay, or himself secure, any such
wage for work in producing crops. A
man Cannot on the average farin',
without the help of his family, make
and harvest more than $50o worth of
produce^ counting his garden truck.
He mu3t furnish his own land artd
team to do that. To hire hands at is
much* as a dollar a day is Usually t6
make matters worse. Yet the leweist
grade of industrial labor nhist have
$12 fof a 40-hour week, with no ex
pense Of any kind hi securing that
income. • / < - -
The farmer Who clears $300 a year
above actual costs apart from that of
his Own labor is rather a1!! exception,
That Is six dollars a Week of jtfst
any old kind of day. And, of course,
the farm laborer must work for What
the farmer caw pay. That' mOans, un
der present price conditions, Very lit
tle, if anything, and it meant the
same in prewar days', also' during the
twenties. All 6ne his te- do to’ eohftnft
these figures as a fair estimate is to1
count the acres oPe may tertd, the
amount of cotton one may pick in i
season, etc. But the fact that all the
members of a family often work On
the farm has made it appear that the
farmer’s income is more just thah ft .
actually is, When' the Cotton mill em
ployees’ children Or wives work in the
factory, they, too, bring home wages.
Bat the farmer is expected to have
big and Utile'work as long hours is
the sun justifies, afid if he makes a
few hundred dollars above the cost of
land, fertilrier, ttainf and impleihenftSj
and feed for the work stock, he ti
adjudged te be silling at a fait
price. There is no fairness in it, and
never has been; Collar com, 20 cent
tobacco and 20 cent cotton \eill nOt
- »
yield him alone a net income equal
tc that of the $15.00-a-Week mid hand
Ten acres of cotton, two of tobacco,
eight of corn, and two in potatoes, sor
ghuhS, garden, melons, ahrf Other
things, is as much as one man can
tend and harvest.. Give him $600 gross'
for his Cotton, $390 f6r hris tobacco,
$200 for his corn, $200 for his other
smaller crops, afid he has $1,200. TP
make the yields estimated to secure
that income at the prices suggested
will require at least the expenditure
of $500 for fertilizer, teams and tools;
feed for work stock, cost of ginning;.,
wood for taring tobacco; taxes; inter
est'oil investment or rent of Iaftd. Aid
that would leave him a net income Of
only $700; or only $13.50 a week. And
he is subject to having that income
destroyed by storm, drought; of insect
infestation’. And that is the result
■With 20 cents for cotton, 20 cents for
tobacco; and a dollar a bushelfbr torn,
which is ait average twice as great an
that prevailing now and the hist few
years. And that means that a hard*
working farmer on more than average
soil cannot at present prices make. 4
net income, when you count in ,hht
collard and .turnip patch as part of - ilt>'
or more than Six or seven dollars *
week; and that he pngy not make *
Ceitt. '*”■ -v
Yet it ir. planned to have him-i'aj!
in the price of the goods. He must
necessarily buy wages from the pro
ducers of them at the rate <of twfc#
to five tlraes his own actual wage;
while thos-> producers have go invest
ment at dll to Mae/ af»d no taxes and
insurance to pay. ,..y,
“Parity is not'- a sweet word far
the fairmer. when his end of it is <
state of affairs that mead a constant
inroad upton his Capital investment ana
a mortgaging of, his property that has
since threatened, if not effected, the
lots of hdme and farm. ' . y
It is time that a real .parity i*
sought for the farmer and the farm
laborer. , • •. ., < '• v
■
MM
} : ■'
yt. -
;
, GRAND OLD MAN DIES
John M. Crawford, described as the
grand bid muh of Clay- coiMty, died
yesterday it the ag& of 103 years,
Uncle Johnny is survived by three
sons and three daughters, moat Ot
them no doubt gfetty old paoptp
themselves. He wkW1 [$£■Min of-ptom
ireftCe and Ms age is properly ivtM£
ticated fi-. ‘ '
Wft.fi ACCEPT »
- .stehacriptiori to T
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