The public ledger. [volume] (Maysville, Ky.) 1913-1968, 1916-04-03
Stingaree
nv n. W. HORNUNC.
Copyright BY Charles Scribncr'S Sons
THE MOTH AND THE STAR.

block bandit, who was tried
and convicted under the strange style
and title which he had made his own.
Not even I'm prison was his real name
ever known, aud the wild speculatlons
of some imaginative officials were moth
ing else up to the end. There was
enough color In their wildness, how
ever, to crown the convict with a GER
| tain halo Of romance, which his be.
havior in Jail did nothing to dispel
| That, Of course. was exemplary, since
| Stingaree had never been a fool. but It
was something more and rarer. Not
! content simply to follow the line Of
least resistance, he exhibited from the
| first spirit and a philosophy unique
| indeed beneath the broad arrow, and,
so far from decreasing with the years
| of his captivity, these attractive quail
! ties won him friend after friend among
I the officials and privilege upon priv
! ilege at their hands, while amply just-
flying the romantic interest in his case.
At last there came to Sydney per
son more capable of an acute appre.
citation of the heroic villain than his
most ardent admlrer on the spot. Lu-
| cius Brady was n long haired lrishman
of letters. bard and boOkwOrm, rebel
| and reviewer. In his ample leisure he
was also the most enthusiastic crimi
nologist i'm London, and as president
Of an exceedingly esoteric society for
| the cultivation of criminals, even from
! London did he come for prearranged
series of interviews with the last and
the most distinguished of all the bush.
rangers.
1t was to Lucius Brady, his biogra-
| pher To be, that Stingaree confided the
| data Of all the misdeeds recounted in
these pages, but of his life during the
| quiet intervals, of his relations with
confederates and his more honest deal
ings with honest folk (of which many
n pretty tale was rife he was not to
be persuaded to speak without an irri.
| tating reserve
Keep to my points Of contact with
| the world, about which something Is
known already, and you shall have the
whole truth Of the matter" said the
| convict But | don't intend to give
away the altogether unknown, and
doubt If it would interest you IL | did.
| The most interesting thing to me has
been the different types with whom l
have had what it pleascS YOU to term
| professional relations and the very dit
ferent ways in which they have taken
| me. You read character by 1laShlight
/ along the barrel of your revolver
| What you should do is to hunt up my
various victims and get at their point
OF view. You really mustn't press me
| TO bark back to mine. As it is. you
bring a whit OF the outer world, which
makes me bruiSe my wings against the
I bars"
The criminologist gloated over such
speeches from such lips. II would
have touched another TO note what an
irresistible fascination the bars had for
the wings despite all pain.
Luclus Brady's interest in Stingare,
! was exclusively intellectual. His heart
| never ached for rowing spirit In con
| finemeut. IL did not occur to him t.
suppress n detail Of his own days ir
| Sydney. down TO the attractions Of Ar
| Italian restaurant he had discovered
near the jail the flavor of the Chianti
and so forth. On the contrary II was
most interesting TO note the play OF
| features in the tortured man. who. aft
/ err all, brought his torture on himself
/ by asking so many questions. Soon,
when his visitor left him, the bond
man could follow the free in all but the
| flesh through every corridor Of the
prison and every street outside, TO the
hotel where you read the English pa
| pers on the veranda or to the little
restaurant where the Chant was
corked with oil, which the waiter re
moved with a wisp of tow.
At the most interesting moments in
the meetings Of the highly intellectual
societies Lucius Brady would rise aud
declare, "lm going on little jaunt to
the prison to call on Stingaree."
One day late In the afternoon, as
Lucius Brady was beaming on him
through his spectacles and indulging
I'm an incisive criticism on the cham
payne at Government House, Stingaree
quietly garroted him. A gag was In all
readiness, likewise strips Of coarse
sheeting torn up for the purpose In the
night. Black in the face, but with
breath still I'm his body, the criminOlo-
gist was carefully gagged and tied
down to the bedstead, while his living
image (at casual glance strOlled
with bent head, black sOmbrero, spec
tacles and frOck coat first through the
cold corridors and presently along the
streets.
The heat Of the. pavement striking TO
his sOles was the first of hundred
exquisite sensations. but Stlngaree did
them. Indeed, he had his work cut
out 10 check the pace his heart die.
tated, and II was by an admirable cx-
ercise OF the will that he wandered
along, deep to all appearance In Il
Camelot classic which he had found
In the criminOlogist's pocket, IN reality
blinded by the glasses, but all the more
vigilant out Of the corners Of his eyes.
A suburb was the scene of these per
ambulations. Had he but dared 10 lift
his f0ce Sungaree might have caught
glimpse Of the bluest Of blue water
and his prison eyes hungered for the
sight, but he would not raise his eyes
50 long as footsteps sounded on the
same pavement by taking judicious
turnings, however. he drifted into