The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-10-08

boundaries, now riveted with white
bricks, with concrete, and provide pro-
You You a s51 IL n9t be charged otherwise
At this speech the poor wretch paled
before me, and shook SO that I could
feel the tremor all down the arm Of his
which held.
ell won It speak, SIR he gasped.
II won t, do assure youIto think as
"Then hide me, and be quick about
tin this room here. it seems dark.
Now run upstairs and say I IN gone.'
/ had stepped into little breakfast
room at the back of the diningroom,
and there had gone unhesitatingly under
round u nd table. The place was absolute
since could see therefrom the whole
of the staircase; but before the foot
man could mount the stairs, the woman
came halfway down them, and, looking
over the hall, she asked him
rs that a gentleman Comet, -
tThen go to bed, and never let me
see :you, admit a stranger like that
She went up again at this, and he
turned to me, asking
"What shall I do now, sira I'll do
I've got twenty years kerecter from
Lord VALLEY; to think as she s bad
unit s hardly creditable.''
1T shall speak for you,' said I. elf
you do exactly what I tell you. Are
any more men expected nowg"
eyes, there's two more; the capting
and mMst the he G Tier pretty clergyman he
"Never mind that; wait and let them
in. Then 20 upstairs and turn the light
out on the staircase as if by accident.
After that you can go to bed.'
HDid you say the police. was 'ereqo
he. asked in his hoarse whisper; and I
Eyes; they're everywhere, on the
roof, and in the. street, and on the bal
cony.. If there's the least resistance,
the house will swarm with them, -
What he would have said to this I
cannot tell, for At that m moment there
one in clerical dress, and one, a very
powerful man, in Newmarket coat,
went quickly upstairs, and the butler
followed them. A moment later the
gas went out on the stairs; and there
in the front drawingroom.
The critical moment il my night 9
work had now come. Taking off my
boots, and putting my revolver at the
half-cock, I crawled up the stairs with
the step of cat, and entered the back
drraWyingroom. One of the folding doors
would probably have cost me my life
and I could not possibly tell if the po-
lice were really in the street, or only
upon their way. But it was my good
luck that the men talked loudly, and
first thing observed on looking thru
the open door was. that the woman had
left the four to themselves: Three Of
them stood about the table wherein
the lamp was; the dumpY man with the
black whiskers sat in his armchair.
But the most pleasing sight Of all was
that Of a, large piece of cotton wool
| cred with brooches, lockets and sprays
of diamonds; and to my infinite salts
! faction l saw Lady Faber's pendant of
rubies lying conspicuous even amongst
the wealth of jewels which the light
showed. r. 49,
was it to be used9 It came to me sud
| denly that four consummate rogues
| such as these were would not be un-
armed. Did step into the room, they
might shoot me at the first sound; and
if the police had not come, that would
! be the end Of it. Had opportunity
been permitted me, I would, un doubted
assure myself that Abel was in the
street without But this was not to
be. Even as I debated the point, a
i candies light shone upon the stair
case; and in another moment Mrs.
Kavanagh herself stood in the door
way watching me. For one instant she
stood, but it served my purpose; and
felt my heart thudding against my
ribs, threw open the folding doors
and deliberately shot down the glass
of the lamp which had cast the aureola
Of light upon the stolen jewels.
AS the glass few-for my reputa
this critical moment-Mrs. Kavanagh
ran in wild fit of hysterical scream,
ing to her bedroom above; but the -four
men turned with loud cries to the door
where they had seen me; and as saw
them coming, prayed that Abel might
be there. This thought need not have
occurred to me. Scarce had. the mer
balcony windows was burst in with 9
crash and the whole room seemed to fill
| with police.
i I cannot now remember precisely the
sentences which were passed upon the
great gang (known to police history as
the Westbourne Park gang) of iewe
thieves; but the history Of that case j.
4 curious enough to be worthy of men
ton. The husband Of the woman Kava
nagh-he of the black whiskers-Ma.
a man Of the name Of Whyte, formerly
+ a manager in the house of James Thorn
dixie, the Universal Provider near thu
4 Tottenham Court road. .Whyte's bust
. ness had been to provide all things
needful for dances; and, tho it aston
ishes me to write it, he had even found
dancing men for many ladies whose
range Of acquaintance was narrow. II
the course Of business he set up 70,
himself eventually; and as he worked
the bright idea came to him, why no.
find as guests men who may snap up
in the heat and the security of tn,
dance, such uneonsidered trifes al
sprays, pendants and loekets. To thi
end he married, and his wife, being |
, clever woman, who fell in with hi
ideas, she-under the name Of Kava
Imaginable the acquaintance Of mum
Der Of youths whose business it was Il
dance; and eventually wormed hersel
into many good houses. The tria
brought to light the extraordinary fac
that no less than twenty-three men ant
eight women were bound in this amaz