Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1874-03-21
THE KIDNAPPED BOY.

The following remarkable accour
of an atrocity alleged to have been pei
petrated in New York city is copie
| from the San Francisco Evening Pos
| 1t exhibits, if true, an organized sys
tenn of kidnapping so revolving an
cruel IN every feature as TO seem i'm
probable yet the paper named abov
asserts that the account is true in ever
particular.
George Z. Staple, the lad who make
the charges, is a native of Rome, n
Y, and having worked as carpente
in New York city some time ago, aftel
spending few weeks with his mothe
in Rome in May, 1872, he returned
here to getwork on the Brooklyn bridge
Failing in that, he worked for Hugf
/ ONeill, stair-builder, corner ofColum
bia and Congress streets, Brooklyn
and w. I. Furey, on Van Brunt
street, Brooklyn. About last Christ
mas his work gave out. Heagain wen
home, taking his aged mother $500
In May he returned here, and his ex-
periences are thus recorded:
For some days he walked around
from one carpenter-shop to another
without finding anything to do, when,
on the 9th of May, between four and
five o'clock in the afternoon, he found
himself on Water street, having been
inquiring for work at the shops on the
East river side of the city. He had
about determined to give up his search
for the day, when, as he walked along,
well-dressed man came up briskly
behind him and tapped him Familiarity
on the shoulders.
Wouldn't you like something to
doY said the stranger.
Yes, sir, replied the lad shat is
just what have been looking for"
Well. / think you will suit me. |
have been looking for some one to put
in the way of good job. How would
you like to go to San Francisco [
have just made big contract to putup
advertising for a patent medicine out
there, and | want to geta smart fellow
to go with me-"
u should like to go, sir, if the
wages are good. Work seems pretty
hard to get here this spring. What
would you pay me, sir 2"
Il will give you s25 per month and
pay all OF your expenses; so that you
can save all your wages. The pay will
be in gold, too, and you can have nice
little sum when we get through, and
perhaps strike something even better
out there, for there is plenty of money
to be made there by a smart man. Will
you go ?"
=" Yes, sir. When do you wish me
to start?"
I'VE shall have to get off by Mon
dry at furthest, Git was Friday,) but
may have to go by tomorrow night,
for the firm / have contracted with are
in great hurry"
Well, sir, can be ready, though |
should like to have time and bid my
mother goodbye. But if | can't do
that | can go over to Brooklyn, where
| have been living, and get my clothes
and meet you tomorrow.
"All right, but you had better come
and get supper with me, as it is pretty
near supper time, and We can talk it
all over" ....-..
They were by this time near the cor
ner of Cherry street, into which they
turned, and the kind stranger who had
the big advertising contract for Cali
fornia led the way to house opposite
the Sailors House. 1t looked like
sailor boarding house, and on a small
sign bore the words
CHARLES GLEASON, BOARDING AND
LODGING"
Two or three men were lounging
about the door, who looked somewhat
peculiarly at the lad as he passed in.
The stranger, who proved to be Charles
Gleason himself, led the way to small
washroom, which opened off dining
room, where table was set.
Now, my boy, l suppose you feel a
little dirty, as you have been tramping
around all day; take off your things |
and give yourself good wash"
The lad took off his hat, his over
coat and vest; hung them up, and roll |
ling up his sleeves, began to wash
When he had concluded he turned |
around for his clothes.
Never mind" said Gleason, / sent |
them to the baggage room, where they |
will be brushed and be safe. Put on
this till after we get supper" he ad-
ded, producing an old monkey jacket. |
The boy, though somewhat wonder
ing, put it on, and Gleason led the way
into the dining-room. No one was
there except a man who reminded Sta
pie of a lunatic, and hoseemed afraid |
to say q word, though he commenced
grinning in a very significant way.
They sat down and had supper, Gleason
talking kindly to the boy all the while
about what they would do in Califor-
fornia. When their supper had been
finished he said:
Now, | guess we had better go
down and see the captain, and you must
tell him that you are sailor, and have
been going to sea for four years, and
then you will get $50 advance" !"
But | can't tell him that, for |
amt sailor. | have never been to
sea in my life"
D your soul, I'll make you a
sailor" said Gleason, with a threten-
ing air, clinching his fists and advanc-
ing on the boy, who reatreated toward
the wash-roOm. "You - -,
come down to the house and eat my
supper, and then tell me you have never
been to sea"
But it is true, sir; l never have
been to sea.
Hear mep thundered the man.
You have been to sea four yours 7!
But can't"
Dye hear me ?" shouted he again,
hitting the boy heavy blow with his
right hand on one side of his head.
You've been to sea four years, or |
will knock the d-head off you; do
you hear?"
"Yes, sir" said the boy, thorough
" frightened, and feeling that he could |
haye no chance for escape until he got
out of the house.
After some more threatening lang |
uage a sailors cap was placed on his |
head, and with the landlord on one side
and stalwart runner on the other, he |
was marched into the street. The
boys hope revived as he got into the I
open air, and he told them that if they /
did not let him go he would call a po-
lieeman and have them arrested.
You say a word to anybody and I'll |
knock the teeth down your throat"
said Gleason, while the runner, with !
menacing gesture, swore he would kick |
him to pieces if he opened his head. |
And hear ye," added the landlord, !
''the best thing that you can do is to !
keep as quiet as you can. All the |
policemen down here are my friends,
and if you call to one I'll give him a