Canyon City news. (Canyon City, Tex.) 1903-1908, 1907-02-15

would stand or 1all.
"Mr. Royce" | said to our junior, in
the course Of the morning. Il wonder if
l could be spared this ftcrnoOn? I've
some business Of my own which I'd
very much like to attcn to-"
"Why. certainly" he answered in
stantly. SO when left the office ut
noon. took the elevated to the Grand
Central station and bought Il ticket to
Ossining Once there. went direct to
the gray Old prison and stated my er.
rand TO Mr.. Jones. the subwarden,
whom found in charge
"Ive come up from New York" |
began, after giving him my card, 'to
see if YOU can identify this man." and
handed him the photograph Of
Thompson
He looked at it long and searchingly
seemingly for Il time in doubt, but at
last he shook his head.
NO don't believe can" he said
"Thcre's something familiar about the
face, but | can't place it,"
GLOW long have you been connected
with the prison, Mr.. .loncs?" I asked.
II began thirty years ago as guard
But what made you think could iden.
tify this fcllow?'
We've rather imagined" | answer
ed. 'thai his real name was Johnson
and that he served Il term here for
robbery. beginning in 1885,
He looked at The photograph again,
with Il sudden flush of excitement in
his face.
81 believe you're right" he said.
lets look Mt Johnson's photo"
He consulted the index, then turned
to one Of the wall cases.
Here he is" he said. opening COM
partment ana pointing to photograph.
ITS the same man sure, only changed
lot 1t would be easy to prove it. I
suppose they took his Bertillon meas
uremcnts at the morgue. and we've
only to compare them with ours.
They'd be the same, no matter how
much he'd changed"
And he had changed, indeed! The
Johnson of the prison photograph was,
of course. smooth shaven: his face was
alert, intelligent; there was no scar
upon the temple nd did TIE features
show that subtle bloating of long con
tinued dissipation. But it was the
same-undOubtedly it was the same.
There was no need to apply any finer
tests.
Il remember him now," said Jones,
looking from one photograph to the
other, very well. He was quiet,
well behaved chap; had been captain
of little tramp steamer, | believe. He
had Il perfect mania for cutting pieces
out of newspapers and pastng them
In Il scrapbook. He spent all his lei
sure time that way. Oh. yes; remem'
bcr, too he tried to escape, but his
pal went back on him and left him lay
in out yonder by the wall. His pal
was bad one, he was; he got away
and I've often wondered what become
of him. Here he is"
IIt NN ttIS Dli'll 'puiliiit
ment, and | found myself staring at
Tremainc,
Not until | was quite near New York
did | recover sufficiently from the
effects, of this discovery TO heed the
cry of the train boy as he went through
the coaches with the evening papers.
"All about tn Edgemere murder"
he was crying, and the nalnc caught
my ear.
"Edgemere." | repeated TO myself.
"Edgemere. I've heard that name
somewhere"
Then in a flash remembered, and in
a moment more the whole story of the
tragedy of the night before-thc muir
der of Graham and the theft of Mrs
Dclroy's ncckace-lay before me.
With what intensity of interest read
it can be easily imagined. | was
shaken, nervous, horror stricken. That
there was some connection between
this second tragedy and the one i'll
suit fourteen | did not doubt, and |
read and rercad the details with the
greatest care. in the effort to find
where that connection lay.
But it was impossible to see how
Tremainc could be implicated in the
Edgcmcre mystery even in the least
degrcc-his alib was perfect. On the
other hand. the evidence against young
Drysdale seemed com letc in every
link. Certainly none of the papers
doubted his guilt, and they handled his
past career and his family history with
a minuteness and freedom which must
have been most trying to his friends.
Coroner IIeffelbower came in for the
lions share of praise-every one agreed
that he had conducted the case with
rare skill and acumen. OF course the
Record had his photograph. as well as
those of his wife and six children, and
as looked ut his round face l fancied
him strutting back and forth in his
saloon, inflated with pride and listening
approvingly TO the constant ringing
of the cash register It's an i'll wind