Morning appeal. [volume] (Carson City, Nev.) 1877-1906, 1893-10-12
DICKENS BILL SYKES.
by Pat Collins IN San
Francisco.

truth. it was SO revolving, so hearts
less and so thoroughly brutal that
even the most enthusiastic admirers
of the great author were wont to adj
nit that no such fend as Bill Sykes
| could ever have existed
The awful cutting to death of Mary
Collins 10y her husband Patrick yes
erday morning, however, was Just
as complete in horror and atrocity as
the one related in fiction. 1t is also
strange coincidence that at the
very moment when the red handed
wife-murderer was covering on his
knees in the dark and silent church,
sndeavoring, with trembling lips,
| to pray away the fearful visions of
| hell that we're filling his mind with
horror, Dickens fanciful Bill Sykes
was numbering an imaginary Nancy
at two of the theatres In this city.
! While Collins was crouchIng in the
sacred sanctuary, fighting away the
horrible picture, Mckee Rankin was
crouching on the stays Of the Alca-
Ear, his hands and arms bloodstained,
| and the dying woman, dripping in
blood, was creeping toward him,
pleading for mercy with her latest
| breath.
SO it comes about that there is in
San Francisco a living second to
Dickens famous murde rer.
Collins was taken from the church
where he was found praying last
evening, and locked up in the tanks
in the City Prison. His clothing
was stiff with blood, as many hours
had elapsed since he did the dread
full deed. and where he had been dur
ing all of that time the officers do not
know, He had evidently skulked
away INTO some den that he had, for
he had changed his outer shirt and
washed his face and hands, which
must have been covered with the
evidence of his crime.
When questioned at the station by
the officers he would tell nothing
of where he had been during the day,
and denied all knowledge of the death
of his wife. He was logged, deter
| mined and obstinate, resisting his
confinement With all tho power he
had.
This morning chief Crowley had d
talk with him in his cell, but he
would confess or admit nothing.
The bloody clothing, including his
shoes, were taken from him fer evi-
dence, and, arrayed, in rough prison
garb, he was brought out into the
corridor. He has a most brutal,
murderous face. His eyes are small,
shifty and treacherous, his forehead
, is low and retreating and in manner
he Is sullen and morose. In stature
he is not above medium height, but
his frame is compactly built and he
will weigh fully $50 pounds.
l asked him if he knew hi, wife
was dsad-that she had been cut to
| death-murdersd.
HIS replies were the same as those
given to the officers last evening.
He said he should refuse to talk
about the case.
Il see you have removed the blood
stains"
| There was no answer TO this, but
his wicked, beadlike eyes had a
startled look. He could not, how
ever, be betrayed into any answer.
"Were you not at the kinder
garten with your wife yesterday
morning2" was asked,
81 have told you" he said, with a
defiant, angry snarl, that l would
say absolutely nothing"
i He turned then to sink to wash
his face and hands, and as he did 50
Chief Crowley slowly shook his head
and remarked: F'T'~re is n perfect
human brute. | can set noting Oh.
of him. He refuses 10 account for
himself III any way, is 10y far the
| most horrible murder that has ever
been committed i'll San Francisco
and | do not recall any case that /
have read Of that was equally re
voting"
| Collins was then locked up III his
CELL f. Post.
| He is Here.
When the train ARRIVED yesterday
l morDIDU "A paculior IooEipo ,DorSon