The evening world., 1911-01-14
Did She Hit Anybody? Maybe
and Maybe Not, but There
Was No More Noise.
HALL SCARED.
Calls Police, and Mrs. Wilson,
Welling's Mysterious Pistol
Practise Is Explained.

This story began TO happen sometime
after midnight to-day, but the end is not
yet. 1t remained a dark secret, how
ever, until eight o'clock in the morning,
When Charles Morris, n recent arrival
from the West Indies, who has accepted
temporary employment as manager of
the rocco vestibule of the Oakland
Apartment house, No. 152 West Forty
ninth street. took the telephone in hand
and asked to be put into communication
with Police Headquarters.
Am dis plees headquarters" he in
uuired. Being assured hat 1t was. he
continued: "Ah'm Mr.. Morris, of the
Oakland Apartment House-yas, sab: All
b'leeves deres been murdoch or some
thin horriferous pup-pup-pupatrated
hyar. vas. sab: two shots was hhed in
the night in the apartment occupied by
Mis- Marcy Wilson. vas sab. Ah'm
scared maybe dey's a daid co'pse IN
side"
She Shot Noises away.
IN 4 was lilipdIltu " GN
West Forty-seventh street police. and
sleuths began filing into the rococo
hallway that is under the exclusive
management OF Mr.. Morris, leaving
trails Of mud and trickles of rain on the
marble tagging. They leaned their
wet umbrellas against the l~apis-lazul
walls and rang the bell of the ground
floor apartment, occupied by Mrs
Marcy Wilson. whereupon the report o,
two pistol shots were said to have
emanated during the still watches OF
the night.
The hawkshaws were met by q
charming young woman. fttingl,
gowned in geligee. who informed then
that she was Mrs. Marcy Wilson. 6
widow. Her slumbers had been rudeiJ
disturbed by large noises. and she hat
taken the dainty. pearl-handled 8
Colts revolver. which she keeps undel
her pillow. and had fired once an<
again.
The noises went away then and sh,
returned to her slumbers. which wer
disturbed by the rude clamor OF tn,
door-bell under the delicate touch Of tn.
detectives.
The detectives picked up their we
umbrellas and hiked pack to the sta
ton house. where a blotter-entry o
Mrs. Wilson's story was made. But tn,
matter did not end there. Other trail
ers. police and ewspaper. went aroun,
to the house and made the startling dis
covery that the lady who had old tn
first detachment of s-eutfns that she wa
Mrs. Marcy Wilson was not Mrs. WI
son at all. She met the second detach
ment in the same becoming negligee an
an even swceter smile than she ha
Nauchsafed to the advance brigade.
Learned to Shoot In Texas.
Il am Mrs. Lucille yelling. and Mrs
Wilson is my cousin. She has gon
hence for her midwinter vacation, an
I live here alone. l had been out wit
a party OF friends and returned abou
go o'clock. I retired. after having 50
the burglar-alarm. You see. we wer
b~urglarized the night before Christ
mas, and we put in IN alarm and Pre-
vided ourselves with guns.
''Oh, yes, I know how to shoot.
come from Texas. My father was a bi
ranchowner down there. He raise
horses and oranges and I am livin
on an income derived from his estat
/ write. on the s!de-oh. poems. in
pressionistic fiction. No. nothing
mine has been printed recently.
We'll, to get back to the incidents
the morning. L retired and was in
profound slumber. when the burglf
alarm aroused me. l heard footstepi
I'm sure / did. | called Who's there
but there was mo response. Then
fired. The noises ceased. went bac
to be, and that's all there is to it,"
DO you think you hit my one?" W!
asked.
I'm sure I don't know. Perhaps
did; perhaps l didn't u don't know
MAY we examine the apartment
see whether the bullets lodged In Il
walls or ceillng?"
"You may not and she closed Il
door, gently but firmly.
Cry for Helpf-NO Texan Would
Mrs. wilson-welling was questions
again. later. To a lev interviewer s
said that her name was Marcy Wilso
not Welling.
NO. ! did not cry for help she sa'
IN an exquisite southern draw. Wet
Texans can take care of ourselves,
,an shoot anything at ten PAGES, and
little matter Of a burglary would n
make me shout for help. The rancI
No. i won't tell you whrre 1t is. WEI
are very prominent GOWN south a
I'm not going to tell you anything IN
nav displease the home folks"
And to add to the mystery, Mr.. Nor
saws that ne failed to note the depal
are, at his usual hour, of a gentlem
who lives in a ground-hoor apartme'