The Tomahawk. [volume] (White Earth, Becker County, Minn.) 1903-192?, 1925-07-30

gift of the wise men Of the Yaquis and
walked away on the atmosphere.
Others limited darkly at the mysteri-
Gus powers possessed by withered
lady from Lombardy who resided
across the street, while many more
muttered prayers and called upon pa
tron saints to protect them from the
devil, whose finger, they clearly per-
ceived, was in the pie.
The thing was incomprehensiDle.
From a small balcony, As feet above
the ground, in one of the most thickly
populated districts in the world, q
child had been spirited away right
from under his mothers eyes, and five
detectives, eleven policemen, three
spook authorities and three thousand
people were unable to tell how the
thing had been done. The disappear
ance of Badly Fadden" threatened
to become one Of the mysteries Of the
century, and in the cars it took prece-
dence Of politics and stock jobbing,
while the doings of the Giants" and
the "Sox" were forgotten in the babble
OF conjecture.
AS 1t often happens in cases Of the
kind, Caparelli, senior, was saved
much Of the anguish that the disap-
pearance Of the boy brought to his
wife. A messenger had been dis
patched to acquaint the father, after
investigation had proved that Badly"
was not on or around the home reser-
walton, but it happened to be one of
those days when fool things happen
one after the other. Caparelli, senior,
had been transferred from his regular
gang that morning, and had been sent
out to the Bronx to assist on a dump.
The messenger was an Italian new to
the city, and not having any money
In his possession at the moment he
ran to acquaint his countryman of the
misfortune, and, furthermore, laboring
under the idea that the Bronx was but
few hundred yards away, he started
to walk. While he was plugging gal
lantly northward the mystery in Hes
ter street was deepening, and Capa-
relli, senior, was busily engaged shov-
cling refuse Of various kinds that was
being dumped into the pit
At five o'clock in the evening Hester
street was a seething mass of eager
eyed, excited people waiting in an at
mosphere charged with mystery. The
day, that had opened brightly, had
turned dull and heavy, and on the
minds Of people born in southern Eu-
rope the unaccountatle disappearance
Of "Baldy Fadden" worked like mental
yeast in raising all the terrors Of the
past from the dark corners of their
brains.
1t was half-past five when the first
Illuminating ray pierced the gloom
surrounding the happening. Baptisto,
who owned the fruit shop to the right
Of the Caparelli apartment house,
dashed through the crowd that strug-
gled on the stairway, and shouted a
message over the heads of the women
sympathizing with the mother of the
lost boy.
"Caparelli!" he screamed. "Capa.
relli! All, Mother of God! Caparelli
has the child He has him! All, 1t is
good, good! Caparelli just telephoned
that he had Badly! All, 1t is goodi
He has him at de dump away out
out, ali, yes-out at de Bronx"
After screaming out the message he
tainted in the hallway. but upon being
brought round, he repeated the aston
ishing information. Caparelli, senior,
had spoken to him over the phone
from a rubbish pit far out in the
Bronx, and asked him to inform Mrs.
Caparelli that the child was safe, and
that he, Caparelli, was then on his
way home with the lost one.
Hester street gasped. The mystery
was not yet explained-it had deep
ened. What devilish agency had spir-
tied the child away from his mother
to the place his father was working?
Pious Italians muttered their prayers
as they waited for the explanation
that would be Forthcoming.
Caparelli's arrival was something
that will be long remembered on the
East side. With "Baldy Fadden" on
his shoulders he walked through q
crowd Of cheering, shouting people till
he placed the boy In his mothers
arms. Hester street wept. Excited
women waved tablecloths from the
windows, and men howled with Joy.
Then curiosity grasped the crowd
with a clutch Of iron. The mob swept
around Caparelli, shrieking for expla-
nations. They screamed their ques-
lions in a score Of tongues, and pushed
madly behind the laborer in their wild
pursuit Of knowledge.
Caparelli turned and put up his
hand.
"Dere is leetle to tell" he said quiz
city. II see 1t all an tank de good
lord. Badly has told me dat he was
on de balcony, yes, eet Is so. Badly
was dere, an underneat'. ali, I tank
de good God, was de truck loading up
de rotten bananas dat Biptisto sends
10 n lrrx