Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1914-08-05

turned to the waters whence they came
and the dead friend Of Montgomery
tloated from Newark bay through the
Kill Won Kull to the harbor of New
York.
Among the scores of telephone re-
ports from Iarbor Squad A at Pier
No. 1, North river, during this busy
season Of the year for the men on the
police boats, one read, Body of con-
vlct found floating near Tompkinsville,
Staten Island. Sent to morgue."
This report was made direct to cen
trail office. Mike. Kearney was prepar-
ing new circular to send broadcast
and stimulate interest in the recapture
Of James Montgomery when the desk
lieutenant called him and showed him
the slip from Harbor A. He read it
carefully and handed it back, then put
his unfinished composition in his desk,
picked up his weatherbeaten derby and
left headquarters for the morgue.
He asked the morgue keeper to show
him the clothes taken from the body
of the convict brought in by the harbor
police. He examined them and found
the white disk and star Montgomery
had won by five years of exemplary
conduct This would have assured
careless worker that the body was that
of the man who had escaped only re-
Gently from Sing Sing. But Kearney
was no careless worker. He asked to
be shown the body itself, but because
of the wear Of the elements he could
make no satisfactory Identification of
the features. A month had passed
since his quarry had slipped him.
"Just a minute" he said to the
keeper.
From one of his pockets he produced
little tin box, sheet Of white paper
and brush of camels hair. The box
contained charcoal powder. Kearney
reached into the receptacle of the dead
body and pulled out the right hand.
He busted the finger tips with the
charcoal and pressed them against the
paper. With this token as to the 1den-
tity of the dead man, he returned to
police headquarters.
The Bertillon records gave up the
tallying card for the finger prints of
James Montgomery. Kearney studied
the official record and the print he had
made at the morgue and then smiled
grimly.
The charcoal prints were of the fin
gers of different man!
He Wen: back to his desk and con-
t1nued the composition Of his new cir
cular.
After the fourth night Of lonely jour-
neying beneath the stars and three
days hidden in forest hooks, drinking
from brooks and eating sparely from
his little stock of food, Montgomery
found that he would have to change
his plan of fight. He was now far
enough from the capital Of the Old
Dominion to feel a degree of safety.
The farther he got from civilization
on large scale the deeper became the
conviction that he could now afford to
risk travel by day. Farmhouses were
far apart, and for the better share of
each day the streets Of little hamlets,
where the country people did their
trading, were deserted. He abandon
ed living in the woods under shelters
knocked up hastily with boughs and
leaves and took the road at daybreak
one morning, his tinker's pack over
his shoulder, ready to be dropped and
put In use at the first job that offered.
The whole summer was spent afoot
on the highway. In many a pleasant
farmhouse he found welcome in the
evening after day of usefulness.
Frequently the warm bed under the
shingles and the hearty meals offered
him in return for his labor he felt to
be wages as great as any man might
desire. He met kindness and godli-
ness at every hand
Sometimes he would find host who
would keep him employed for week
or ten days. 1nevery tiny farm settle
ment he found a little white steeple
Of a clapboarded church topping the
oaks and pines, and on Sabbath DAYS
he Joined these little congregations, Of
fering up his constant prayer Of graft
tude for his deliverance.
The last sickly trace Of the prison
pallor had left him quickly. A short
brown beard and mustache had grown
to aid the change of his appearance.
The large brown eyes in the bearded
face gave the suggestion of one who
had suffered much and who had gain
ed the essence of divinity.
In every farmhouse he found q b.
bic, that book which is a library in It.
self. Being tinker, a creature of the
highways and byways, he could
glimpse and cherish the beauties Of the
poetry written by Isaiah and Amos
and Micah. Then, too, he gained &C.
cess during the long, quiet evenings to
other books in the houses where the
stranger was made welcome.
This wholesome, if itinerant, life
gradually shaped his character to a
wonderfully fine combinati ton of saint
Hness and vigor. The dust and tur.
MOL Of city street again would have
made him reel and become faint. The
rush and confusion of a crowded hab-
itation Of men would have been to him
a veritable court for dragons.
Occasionally he would feel that the
police net from Mulberry street was
thrown too closely to him. Going into
villages for supplies, he would hear
about new efforts to recapture him and
Of new circulars sent out by his hunt
ers. On such occasions he would
hasten back to remote roads and farm
houses.