The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1904-06-10
THE RAT.
4 Tale of the Third Degree"
By J. RAMSEY REESE.

the gren swinging door which led from
his private office to the assembly
room and the Rogues' Galleryhe could
hear rumble of voices while the de-
tective sergeants talked over the
crooks who had ben stood up" at
roll call for identification and future
remembering. The system of memoir
les at Police Headquarters is primary,
but undeniably effective.
He could even distinguish the click
of the brass catches as some one
searching through the gallery" I'M
loosened panel after panel of the
hinged wall photograph album. The
chiefs brows were contracted and he
pulled at his beard. He had not been
head of the Central Office for many
months, and, besides, he was alone
and might allow himself momentary
relaxation of features forbidden him
in the presence of his subordinates.
who must be impressed with an Off
Cial front
1t was annoying-worse than an
noying-it was dangerous. The MUIR
der was week Old and already the
newspapers were in full cry over the
inefficiency of the department He
knew that the Detective Bureau was
expected to make good" And max
ing good" meant making arrests. If
the situation had not been desper-
ate one he would not have ordered
the bringing in The Rat the night be-
Nd ho ~
him in McTurk's, with the Sing Sing
cell chalk tint still in his face. He
had not been out six weeks, and he
was very drunk. And so the Rat had
been taken, and the chief of the de-
tectives had sent across the street to
say that reporters might call at four
and be told how the mystery had been
solved. He sighed heavily as he re-
1ected, for the Detective Bureau was
more to be desired than a precinct.
And he had been long enough in uni
form to relish the privilege of wearing
citizens clothes, to say nothing OF
having his picture printed in the news
papers great many times, with as
tute remarks upon crime which he fire.
quently distributed, neatly typewrit
ten.
He looked at his watch. 1t was half
after three. Then he leaned forward
in his chair and touched an electric
desk button. A uniform sergeant re-
sponded. The chief nodded. Harry"
he said, bring in The Rat"
The green door opened and closed,
and opened again as The Rat entered
He slouched half way across the room,
and, turning, glared at the chief, who
said Good morning" affably enough
and pointed to a chair placed so that
the light from the courtyard would
strike the face of its occupant fairly.
His appearance did not belle his
title-this man-The Rat. He was a
sharp featured, stunted creature, with
thin hair tina grew far down upon his
neck and clustered about his eyes,
which were set strangely close to-
gether. His mouth lacked the curve
of expression, without which no mouth
is human; and the upper lips was so
short that it gave one the impression
of being continually drawn back in an
ugly sheer. Not pleasant spectacle
to dwell upon was The Rat.
The chief looked at him hungrily.
"If could only make him stand for
it," he thought, ''it would be the pref
test sort of story. He looks the
part The papers would print dia
grams of his head, and sent women re-
porters to write about inherited Grim
inal instinct. 1t would square me for
six months" This is what the chief
thought. What he said was, $50
you've come back to us, Ell"
The Rat swore. "Cut that out" said
the chief, pleasantly. You're sober
now. We're only holding you till you
tell us where you were Tuesday night.
That's ALL They found Dutch Gala
CHER over on Crystal Square early
Wednesday morning There was a
knife and a red handkerchief, Rat.
These!" With quick movement the
chief whit%ed the knife and handker
chief from the top drawer of his desk
and held them towards the prisoner.
But The Rat was emotionless. He
looked at the detective and the OBJ
iects he held in his hand. There was
no surprise or fright, only hatred in
his gaze.
The chief leaned over the desk. His
voice was soft and almost appealing.
It came from between his lips that
were well-nigh locked, and he touch
ed The Rats arm. Its silk with
bloodstain."
hensively. Il amt afraid of your