Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1914-07-29

A~A NANA >~>pNNS w N0>~PS 40
that?" asked Kearney.
The convict ignored the question.
"You made it for your cell mate who
did escape" the detective said sharply.
"What are you kicking about?" de-
manded Bill, his sunken eyes flashing
hate as he spoke. "Ain't l taking the
extra timeT'
But you don't have to, Bill" coaxed
Kearney. "You can get that time TAX
en- off and then some Of the original
sentence, too, If you will help us out"
The bride was offered.
Bill sneered and looked to the
warden as If in supplication that
Kearney be kicked from the room.
The warden had no sympathy with
the class of work his detective visitor
was INDUCING in. He made motion
with his hand to the convict, sign to
him to control himself.
Nothing doing" said the old bur-
glar to Kearney.
you've served a good part of your
sentence" suggested Kearney. "Now,
suppose get a pardon or parole
through for you, will you help?"
II don't know nothing" Bill choked
out.
Kearney sat quietly for a moment
as If deciding on the size and quality
Of his next bride offering.
"Bill," began Kearney slowly.
"What?"
II saw your old girl one night last
week-Rosie"
The heavy jaw of Hawkins dropped,
and he felt as If the talons of great
eagle had gripped his heart.
"She was pretty hard up" added
Kearney. "She had changed from
Broadway to Third avenue and then
to the Bowery."
Bills tongue was protruding over his
yellow lower teeth. Rage was chok-
ing him.
"She was pretty girl when was a
kid on the cops" continued Kearney.
A coughing sound, such as a tiger
makes when he swallows sharp
silver Of bone, came from the convict.
A cloud swept by the warden in his
chair and fell upon Detective Lieuten-
ant Michael Kearney Of police head
quarters, New York.
For a moment Mike Kearney was
close to death, but rage had blinded
the convict. and he fumbled in his
reach for the throat of his enemy. A
dozen prison attendants were in the
room at the sound Of the crash, and
Bill Hawkins was dragged from his
prey In time.
The detective struggled to his feet
and Strengthened out his rumpled
clothes. When he got his wind he
turned to the convict and said, Il guess
that means little more time for you,
Bill"
The warden had had enough Of the
practice of the third degree in his Of
flee.
zone minute" he said to the at
tendants holding Bill. He turned to
Kearney. Have you finished?' he
asked.
EYES,"
He turned to the livid old prisoner
before him.
"Bill, was this woman he told you
about your wife?'
"She's my wife," he painted. "She's
got the certificate to prove it. If she's
on the Bowery it's because she didn't
have nowhere else to co.
"Go back to your cell, Bill" said the
warden.
Working on the trite axiom that
chickens come home to rOost, Kearney
looked up every friend of the Mont
gomery family in Nyack and the coun-
try around. He impressed the town
police with the necessity for alertness
and patience in aiding in the recapture
Of the escaped convict.
Montgomery would come back some
day to the place of his birth. When
the exile years grew stale and profit
less the heimweh would get him and
he would succumb to it. Kearney ar
ranged with the postal department to
put watch on all letters sent to the
immediate friends of his quarry and
his dead and buried mother.
All this carefully attended to, Kear-
ney had the printer Of the police de-
partment spread on his form photo
graphic plates showing Montgomery s
face in profile and in full. A reward
of $1,000 for information leading to his
recapture was announced in black type
| above the pictures. Below was given
a minute description of the convict
taken from the police records. These
circulars were printed and sent to ev-
cry police center In every city and town
in the country.
1t was not exciting detective work
but Kearney went at it as If his whole
| career depended on it's successful &C
complishment. With the aid of ste
nographer and mimeograph he sent
| special letters to the heads of all big
firms employing machinists. This mar
rowed the search to a considerable ex
tent.
Ito be continued)
The Barber Shop.
The Metropolitan Barber Shop
Bank Of Willmar Building, B. T. Otos
Proprietor, Is the shop to get a shave