Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1889-03-30
TIE CLEVER DETECTIVE.
Although of Wood He Was Worth a
Dozen of the Ordinary Kind.

force?"
There was no answer. None of the
officers assembled at headquarters
knew any thing concerning him ex-
cept that the inspector had brought
him in quietly a few evenings before
and introduced him as Sergeant
Fetchem. The strange inapprOpri-
ateness of such a name for a detective
had strdck them at once, but the new
man had gone to work without a word
as If thoroughly familiar with his du-
ties, and his first job had been the ar
rest of burglar whom he had caught
in the act and overpowered, bringing
him to the station alone, despite the
fact that the prisoner was a burly,
powerful fellow nearly twice the size
of his captor.
Every day since his accession to the
force he had signalized himself by
some unheard-of exploit. He had dis
covered a nest of counterfeiters, ar
rested and put in jail a hitherto unsus-
pected Anarchist whose attic was full
of dynamite bombs, and located a bank
embezzler who had eluded the police
for two whole years. All this ne had
done as matter Of course, and had
| listened impassively to the encomiums
passed upon his singular skill and
adroitness. The other members of the
detective corps began to grow jealous,
and watch was put upon his actions.
He had no difficulty in evading them
in the performance of his duties, but
they made the discovery that he was
closeted with the inspector for about
five minutes every Monday morning.
The most diligent effort failed to dis.
cover the object of these conferences,
if such they were, for no conversation
between the chief and the new detect
i've ever reached the ears of the listen
ers on the outside.
One Monday morning, Immediately
after one of these secret interviews,
Sergeant Fetchem was seen to leave
the office and board an outward bound
train. He was not seen again during
the week. Monday morning came
again and he had not yet turned up.
The inspector was visibly uneasy.
at he is not here in less than an
hour all is lost!' he muttered, as he
glanced at his watch and went to the
door to look up and down the street.
1t was showing furiously.
Seized with sudden impulse, he
hailed passing cab and was driven
rapidly to a railway station in the sub
urbs, reaching it just in time to get
aboard train coming into the city.
Az he entered the forward door of a
car he saw man rapidly go out
through the rear door, jump off the
! train, and disappear in the binding
snOw-StOrm.
With cry of dismay the inspector
rushed down the aisle When half
way through the car he stopped sud
denly. In one of the seats was the
motionless figure of Sergeant
Fetchem. 1t was in half erect posi-
ton, with one arm extended. The
eyes were gazing into vacancy with a
lack luster expression.
TOO late" exclaimed the inspector,
bitterly. Fifty thousand dollars
gone! That man who left the car a
moment ago was Tascottr'
The passengers crowded around.
They explained that the sergeant a
few minutes before had made a sudden
but apparently weak effort to fasten
himself with chain to the prisoner,
but that the latter had quickly risen
and grappled with him. The sergeant
had nearly succeeded in his design
when suddenly he seemed to stiffen.
His grasp relaxed, his arm remained
stretched out, a CLASSY look came into
his eyes, and his whole frame became
motionless. The prisoner broke away
from him and was out of the car be-
fore the spectators had recovered from
their surprise.
Such was the story they told the in.
spector.
''What is the matter with the Off.
GER? Is he dead?' they inquired.
HE has run down. groaned the In
spector. Fool! Idiot that was not
to have met him one station beyond
here! This detective" he explained,
twas a cunning piece of machinery.
1t took Edison year to manufacture
him, and paid him ten thousand dol.
lars. He warned me that if l ever
failed to wind him up at the regular
hour he would be ruined, Sergeant
Fetchem was a seven-day detective. /
wound him up as usual last Monday
morning and sent him out to search
for Tascott. l might have known, -"
he added, bitterly, ''that if he hadn't
caught him he would have reported on
time. This failure is all owing to my
blind neglect. Tascott's gone again
now and he'll stay gone!''
The inspector looked long and mourn
fully at the wonderful and costly piece
of machinery, now ruined forever.
.''He was a wooden detective, he
said at last, ''but he was worth dozen
of the ordinary kind. Chicago Trib~
une.
An immense Church Organ.
---...o-dont Of To Soiauoa an