Year: 1879

A dead man lay on the sidewalk at six
o'clock on a recent afternoon, close to


the corner of Fulton and Church streets,
New York, his life blood yelling out
from a wound in the left side, and his
CLASSY eyes turned toward the bright,
sunlit sky It was the hour, says the


New Yo& Herald, when the labors of
the day at all the busy establishments
down town come to an end, and when
thoughts and steps are lovingly directed
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS of the welcoming
smile and the home circle of loved ones.
which cause each to forget at once the
fatigues of the day. the struggles, mental
or physical, for livelihood. From the
confectionery establishment of A. Slau-
son & Co., at the corner of Church and
Dey streets, issued crowd of employees.
all seemingly happy that another day OF
labor was over, and that rest and recrea-
ton were theirs at last. Among them
was Michael Bolander, a good-natured
Alsatian, who had been nearly fifteen
years in the employ of the firm, and was
intrusted with the position of foreman in
one Of the most important departments.
He was over fifty years of age, and was
a general favorite in the establishment.
At his home in Thompson street were
his wife and six children awaiting his
return from work. He walked toward
Fulton street, conversing with Naething,
another foreman of the same house, and
Robinson, one of his subordinates. They
crossed Fulton street and stood at the
corner opposite Talcott's drug establish
ment. Suddenly q man sprang from y
place of concealment behind u pillar of
the Metropolitan Elevated railroad and
struck at the unsuspecting man. The
blow was delivered from behind over the
foreman's left shoulder. and ten inches
and half of steel were driven home to
the heart with unerring accuracy. Not
Il cry nor moan escaped the lips of the
stricken victim. He staggered up and
along the iron steps of the storel urched
heavily toward the sidewalk, fell on his
face opposite the door of Hook aand lad
der Company No. 10, turned over on his
back, and, with one .convulsive gasp,
breathed his last.


A cry of horror went up from the
crowd, which had quickly gathered, and
one of the tiremen made rush for the
murderer. But the desperate man dashed
up tulCOn SCTeeG, DIttuulSlllHS HoSc
butchers knife that dripped with blood
and threatening instant destruction to
any one who should venture to stop him.
Just then Officer Londrigan, of the
Twenty seventh Precinct, appeared
among the frightened crowd and came
up with the fugitive. The man turned
quickly around and made desperate
lunge at the officer with the knife. Off
Ger Meancy reached his colleague in time
to fell the man with his club. But he
was up again in an instant, on one knee,
holding the knife with determined
grasp, and struggling desperately to rise
to his feet. Another blow from club
on the wrist caused him to drop the
knife, which was picked up by Rounds
man Muret. After a short contest the
murderer was secured and taken to the
station house, only three blocks distant.
lie proved to be an Italian. named Frank
Portfolio, of No. 80 Baxter street, who
had been formerly employed at Slauson's
by the murdered man. Portfolio stated


n the station house that he had killed
Bolander for refusing to take him back
after discharging him