The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-02-25

any of her several acquirem -nts. Pretty, medium sized, dark-eyed, with the face of an innocent child and the strength and courage of panther, she had within a year learned all the tricks of her trade. Yet she hardly ever practiced any of them. On the contrary, she was always Frances Baird; and it is to her scorn of all pro- fessional traditions that I credit her most notable triumphs.
 Frances Baird never resorted to the time worn device of a disguise; she preferred to appear in her own stylish frocks-and smart they were, too. She rarely "shad- owed' house; she simply drove to the address, rang the bell and walked in. Only two or three times have I seen her badger or browbeat suspect; she would rather reason out a perfect case, and then sail in and frankly accuse him of his crime frequently from the safe end of Colt .45. But in her methods of deduction above all she was peculiar. She often refused to bother about the motive of crime and her special prejudice was against what she called "the fallacy of the eyewitness" It was this prejudice which had won her such success in the affair of the Willard diamonds in 1903; cleared up the abduc- tion of the British under-secretary for the colonies in the year following; and, more remarkable still, brought to light-no longer than last June-the now famous of the Gallows Hound of Mount Joy
 I remember well the evening when it all began-and surely it began quietly and conventionally enough-from mere chance word over dinner table, uttered by re- porter restless for sensation.
 We were dining, she and l, in the roof garden of the Bellevue-Stratford hotel, in Philadelphia. There was a jolly company at the tables near us; the quiet lights of the spring-lazy city flickered below, and an orchestra close by played a simple love song. It would be hard, indeed, to imagine anything more peaceful. Because it was peaceful I sighed. For I was the star reporter on the staff of the Philadelphia eobe-Express, and a star reporter is never ct home in a calm.
 Trouble, Sammy?" she asked
 The trouble" said I, "is that there IS no trouble. Here it is Friday, and not an exciting bit of news all week."
 She smiled. "You newspaper men amuse me. The trouble isn't that there isn't any trouble; the trouble is that you won't trouble to find it."
 Frances, that's nonsense-and you know it. Thompson has racked the entire state for really good feature, and he can't find thing"
 "It would serve better if he'd rack his own brains,' my lad. venture to say there isn't dull item you print that has not got behind it story sensational enough to shake this very skyscraper on which we are sitting.
 Her constant jibes at my business always annoyed me. So for answer I tossed her my battered copy of that mornings Globe-Express.
 of type find me one thing that can be run out for thriller; and, if the sensation doesn't shake this place down, I'll buy you another dinner here this day week."
 "Donew she answered. q never read the newspapers-they are good imaginative writings, but what need are facts. To oblige you, however, I'll open this at ran dom."
 She did. She opened it at the "State Page" It was the page devoted to dispatches from our local correspondents through out Pennsylvania-and I, watching, saw her eyes run down one column and halfway up another, then pause, and
 "Listen to thisw she commanded and began to read:
 LANCASTER, Pa.. dune 6.-Henrv