Waterbury Democrat., 1900-12-10

end of the nineteenth century?" asked Sprague, aghast.
 ''Yes; when it is done in the system atic and scientific manner that has been employed here. For this murderer is the most remarkable criminal of mod ern times. He has not been satisfied with killing his victims; he has sue ceeded in completely wiping them out of existence. Criminals have often at tempted to destroy the bodies of their victims, but they have never before sue ceeded as this man has. He is chem ist of remarkable talent, and he has discovered a compound in which bone as well as human tissue is rapidly and totally dissolved. There it is in yon- der tank. See how completely the liquid has destroyed the bone handle of this knife.''
 Sturgis, after showing the damaged knife to his companion, resumed his whittling upon the cover of the box en which the artist was seated.
 "Chathams body has been dissolved in that tank within a very short time. It has entirely disappeared; this flat tened bullet alone is left, lead being one of the few subs stances which are not soluble in the contents of the tank. Fortunately he overlooked that fact. Genius has it's lapses.' Presently Sprague ventured to say: "If numerous crimes have been com mitted here, as you intimate, 1 do not understand how it is that suspicion | has never rested on this house be- fore.''
 'The author of these crimes has | taken every precaution to render the chance of discovery quite remote. His dwelling house on one street. and the bogus Chemical company on the other, are in communication through this underground passage, while appar- ently having no connection with each other. Moreover, he is too shrewd to make frequent use of this death cham | Der. That does well enough as last | resort, when he is obliged to commit | the murders with his own hands; but I suspect that this man has other agents like Chatham. who do the | dirty work for him and then quietly | ship the bodies here for annihilation, as it was intended should be done with Arbogast's. Ah! yes; I thought so. You are sitting upon one of these bodies now.'
 Sprague started to his feet; and, following the direction in which Sur gis was pointing with his open knife, he vaguely discerned, through the opening which the reporter had whit | tied, a small surface of what had once been the features of a human being.
 After gazing for some minutes in horror-stricken silence at the distort- ed face, the artist asked in a low voice:
 How did Chatham meet his death 2"
 II don't know yet" answered Stur- l gis, gravely; this man is no ordinary criminal. His work is clean and leaves no blood-stains and no disorder to tell of its accomplishment. He takes life with his own hands only when he is forced to do so; but, when he does, his method is masterly. It was easier to make away with Chat ham than to pay him the price agreed upon for his complicity in the Knick- erbocker bank embezzlement; and so his life was taken. l hope to discove. how before I leave here"
 Sprague started as the reporter ceased speaking.
 The price of his complicity?" he claimed, laying his hand upon Sturgis' arm and looking earnestly into his eyes.
 ''Yes," replied the reporter, steadi- ly meeting his friends gaze, "his daughters hand'
 Sprague looked away from the hon. est eyes of the reporter, if he T Ia to his next question.
 'Who is this fend incarnate, who is willing to traffic in his own flesh and blood. and with whom murder is a science?"
 ''The man who is capable of these crimes, and of any others which might serve to remove an obstacle from his way is"
 The reporter did not finish his sen tence. He suddenly grasped his com panion by the arm and stood trans fixed, his eyes dilated, his neck craned in a listening attitude, every muscle tense like those of a wild animal in ambush about to spring upon its ap- preaching prey.
 Presently click was heard as though bolt had been shot from its socket.
 "Draw your revolver" Sturgis whis. pered hoarsely to his companion "Quick!-Look there!'
 At the same time he drew his owr weapon and pointed in the direction of the door at the head of the stairs The door opened and a man entered quietly smoking a cigar.
 "Dr. Murdock!" exclaimed Sprague with horror.
 Murdock, still holding the door ajar eyed the two men for an instant, his impassive face betraying not tine slightest sign Of emotion. Then, talk ing his cigar from his lips:
 "Ah, gentlemen" he drawled, in hi: ironical way, q am delighted to ses you. I trust you will make yourselve, perfectly at home for few minutes I shall return directly. You can con tinue to work out your little prob f lem in the meantime, Mr., Sturgis."
 With these words he calmly turned to leave the room.
 :, "Stop!" shouted Sturgis, levelins hiS revolyer at M,1rdock'S head, sStan(