The San Francisco call., 1896-06-04
of ]. A. Belloli at the corner of South
Third md San Enrnarndo rtrontc

of j. A. Belloli at the corner of South
Third and San Fernando streets.
The saloon is attached TO a grocery-store
and is somewhat removed from the buster
thoroughfares of the city. Dunham was
not known to anybody about the place.
He was dusty and tired and drowsy. He
took seat in a corner of the saloon, where
there were few customers at that hour,
and with his head bowed on his hand over
a table he remained there for more than
two hours. Occasionally he arose and
helped himself at the lunch box that
stands against the wall at the back part OF
the saloon.
Dunham does not drink. He bought
nothing at the bar, and this fact, together
with the other that neither the barkeeper
nor Mr.. Belloli remembered having seen
him before, attracted their attention. The
barkeeper says the stranger ate a hearty
breakfast out of the lunch box.
When Mr.. BellolI arrived, he at once
noticed the silent man in the corner, with
his head on his hand, and asked the bar
keeper what he was doing-if he was
sleeping there. The barkeeper replied
that he did not seem to be sleeping, and SO
no further attention was paid to him.
Shortly before 10 O. clock Roy Guilkey, a
young man employed in the San Jose
cyclery, entered the saloon. He knows
Dunham well, and was much surprised at
seeing him there, as he knows that he does
not drink. He did not speak to him, how
ever, as the mans attitude and manner did
not invite social advances. Neither did
he mention the matter at that time to the
barkeeper. When the following morning
he saw the report of the fearful tragedy at
Campbells the incident flashed upon him
instantly, and, going over to Belloli's, he
informed him who his strange visitor was.
From this saloon Dunham went to the
bank and drew out all the money that was
there to his credit-something over $1,000.
Thence he went to school and remained
through the session, trying to wear his
customary studious appearance, although
his abstraction was such that it did not es-
cape the notice of the pupils nearest him.
When leaving school, he did not take his
books with him, something that had not
occurred before in his three months at
tendance there.
After school and from about O'Clock
until z, as traced by The CALL, Dunham
was in the neigh borhood of the Willows,
visiting the propertY-owners there and
making the inquiries that had called him
there before, concerning the value of land.
At O'Clock he entered the Willow Glen
grocery-store, on Willow street, and re-
mained eossiping with the proprietor, a
man whom he Gid not know, for nearly an
hour.
Leaving the willow Glen store, he
started toward the electric-cars that would
carry him toward Dry Greek. Frank
Sprung, an acquaintance and proprietor
of the blacksmith-shop at Willows, was
about to pass without recognizing him,
but Dunham, the silent and morose, grown
voluble now,. stopped him, crying
"Hello, Frank"
They stopped and talked for some time,
Dunham appearing in no hurry. AS they
parted Sprung asked: How is Jim 30
meaning jimmy Wells. To this question
Duuham had no reply, for he was even
then on his way to murder Jimmy Wells.
This chain of circumstances all point in
one direction-that Dunham was laying q
careful plan covering the alternatives and
contingencies of his contemplated crime.
He was an expert and practiced bicy clist.
He had had O,good week or ten days be-
fore place on this wheel that he took away
that Monday morning speedier gear.
He procured new tire elsewhere and that
night he probably rode to the summit OF
Mount Hamilton and there concealed the
one wheel. Possibly he concealed the
other nearer home.
He returned to the city early Monday
morning and went to a saloon where he
was not known and rested there until the
hour when he might appear upon the
street without comment.
He secured his money and his prepara-