The age-herald., 1900-12-21
The Bandits Letter.

 of his son. The letter in full is as follows: The Bandits Letter. "Omaha, December l9.-Mr Cudahy: We l have kidnapped your child, and demand | $25, ,O00 Twenty-Five thousand dollars) for his | safe return. If you give us the money the | child will be returned as safe when you | last saw him, but if you refuse we will put | acid in his eyes and blind him. then we will | immediat tey kidnap another millonaire's l child that We have spotted and demand l $10OOO0, and we will get it, for he will see | the condition of your child and realize the | fact that we mean business and will not be monkeyed with or captured. Get the money | all in gold, S5, $10 or $20 pieces; put in a white wheat sack; get in your buggy alone | on the night of December 19, at : o'colck | D. m., and drive south from your house to | Center street; turn west on Center and | drive back to Ruser's Park and follow the paved road toward Fremont.
 When you come to a lantern that IS l lighted by the side of the road place your l money by the lantern and immediately turn | your horse around and return home.
 You will know our lantern, for it will | have two ribbons, black and white, tied on
 the handle You must place a red lantern | in your buggy where it can be plainly seen | so we will know you mile away. This letter and every part of it must be | returned with the money, and any attempt
 at capture will be the saddest thing you | ever done.
 | If you remember, some twenty years ago l Charley Ross was Kidnapped in New York l City and $20000 ransom asked. Old man l Ross was willing to give up the money, | but Burth the great detective, with-others, , persuaded the old man not to give up tine
 money, assuring him the desperadoes would | be captured. Ross died of broken heart, | sorry that he allowed the detectives to dic- | tate to him.
 This letter must not be seen by any but | you. If the police or some stranger knew | it's contents they might attempt 0 capture | us, although against your wish;or some one | might use lantern and represent you, | thus the wrong party securing the money, l and this would be as fatal to you as If | you refused to give up the money. So you l see the danger if you let this letter be seen.
 MT. Cudahy, you are up against it, and | there is only one way out. Give up the coin. | Money we want and money we will get. 1 If you don't give up, the next man will, | for he will see that we mean business, and ] you can lead your boy blind the rest of : your days, and all you have is the copper ] sympathy. Do the right thing by us and
 we will do the same by you. If you re-
 fuse, sOu will soon see the saddest sight you saw, Wednesday, December, l9
 This night or never.
 Follow these instructions and no harm
 will befall you or yours"
 After nights sleep, young Cudahy felt
 much relieved from the strain of the past { two days, and detailed the following cir
 cumstances of his disappearance.
 Young Cudahy's Story. | When young Edward Cudahy arose this
 morning he was questioned concerning the
 circumstances of his disappearance. He l said he was across the street from his own
 home Tuesday evening when two men ap-
 preached him. One of them stepped up to | him and said:
 We are sheriffs from sarph County, and l arrest you Eddie McGee, who escaped | from the reform school"
 | The lad protested that he was not Eddie | McGee, but his captors said that he would | have to be identified. They placed him in | a buggy and immediately blindfolded him
 and whipped up the horses Presently | they came to a house, which in the opinion | of the lad is somewhere in the southwest l ern part of South Omaha
 Speaking of his experiences while in the | power of the kidnappers Young Cudahy l gave the following account of his surround l ings, and what occurred and of the men who guarded him;
 q could tell by the way the mems foot 1 steps resounded throughout the house that 1 it was vacant and stripped of furniture. l | observed also that they struck no light. l I would have been conscious of a sense of l light had they made one, for the bandage | coud not have excluded it's rays. The men | still moved about in absolute silence, eX- 1 changing no words. One of them found an | old rickety chair somewhere and pushed | me down upon it. Then he removed the | cords from around my wrists and substi- | tuted for them a pair of handcuffs with l chains attached and made the latter fast | to the rungs of the chair. A pair of leg | irons were clapped upon my ankles and the chains of these were also locked about | the legs of the chair. In this uncomforta- | ble position I spent twenty-four hours of l my incarceration though at one time, for | period of about five hours I should judge, | the chains from my wrists were removed | floor. One of my captors kindly provided l to sleep, but my nerves were too badly l shattered to permit of it.
 Had Little Nourishment. During all of this time I partook of l nourishment but once, though the man l who was with me often asked me if 1 want | ed anything. Once l said l did, and he | got me a cup of coffee and some crackers. | ''As soon as I was chained to the chair | one of the men went away, but he kept re- | turning every few minutes, when he would | tap light upon the door and would engage l my guardian in a whispered conversation. I could not catch word of what they said. | After each one of these interviews the man l on the outside would go away and after | moment or so I could hear the tinkle of | telephone bell, which sounded a long way | off. I believe they were in communication
 with persons in Omaha all the time. The | man who kept watch over me was drinking