Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1905-06-20
MODERN STUDIO OF CRIME
Apartment Where a Clever Up-to-
Date Counterfeiter Piled His
Delicate Art.

Date Counterfetter Piled His
Delicate Art.
There were some things on the
shelves that in the darkness could
not see, says writer in the Metropol-'
itan. Taking match from my pocket,
l struck it on the wall. Instead of
lighting, the match tore a, large cash
in the wall paper that apparently hung
loose. But as tried it a second time,
it tlared up brilliantly. There was
nothing but some bottles of medicine
and few odds and ends on the
shelves, and I turned to see what
damage | had done. AS l bent for
ward stopped-there, evidently hid
den by the flap of wall paper, was a
key-hole for small fat key. Some
what mystified, l sought the bunch
again and chose one by feeling, for
the match had now gone out. in
serted it in the lock and to my half
fear, half delight, it turned and a small
door opened 1t was only about two
feet wide, fitting at the top and bot
tom against the surbase and the wood
en- rack upon which hung the clothes.
It was deftly concealed. A draft
must have been created, for the closet
door closed with a bang. The key
l had left on the outside! For
moment my heart failed me, but
found there was no spring lock, and
| could easily get out. Cautiously, 1
stepped forward, feeling with my foot
before me. l trod on something soft
and yielding. l stopped and found
that it was a layer of thick carpet.
Searching in my pocket, l found an
other match, and, striking it, held it
above my head.
l was in a large room, three or four
times the size of the one l had left.
But the first thing that caught my eye
was gas jet. l turned and lit it.
The light flooded the apartment 1t
was almost replica of my own studio!
In one corner stood camera iden-
tically the same as the one use,
and that I call my microscopic en-
larger" The skylight in the roof was
shaded by double rolling screens the
same as use in moderating the light
in my studio. The villain had adopt
ed, practically stolen, all of my pet
methods. With his skill he could du-
plicate any work l had produced. Even
the means I employed for aging my
printing paper, were there. AS
looked about me, l could almost feel
the invisible presence of old Straub.
On the etching table lay his glasses
and his pipe, his eye-shade and his
engraving tools. The press in the
corner was as delicate as mine, and
fully as powerful. The acid trays, and
all the appurtenances, were well
chosen, and running water was pro-
vided from two faucets that dripped
into porcelain catch basin.
The door that entered into the hall
way was barred by big oak beam
fastened to two iron brackets at the
side, and in front of it was a bureau
and few heavy packing cases. The
empty boxes round about were ready
for the immediate removal of the par
aphernalia. AS l moved about, my
footsteps were absolutely hushed in
| the soft carpet. | was amazed at
my own stiffness. l perceived that
the press stood in bed of sand that
must have mutfied any jar that might
be heard through the building. / tore
from one corner to the other, and then
| | came upon the fateful discovery! In
desk in the corner l found some
sheets of greenish paper, stiff, crisp
but flexible, and underneath, two
| plates ready for the press. The paper
anyone would recognize in an in
] slant. There is only one place they
make it or anything like it. If it is not
the real paper, it is the best imitation
| that ever was made!
But the plates, the plates-what
were they?" questioned Fowler, i'm
patiently.
They were plates of a $1,000 and
of $500 bill.