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January 13, 1910



"Mooning" Around Third
and Main When Arrested
by Policeman.
Parted Sweethearts Chessie Nave and Richard Wiliford.

Chessie Nave is 16, and Richard Wiliford is 20, but they each felt a great deal older and more responsible than when they arrived in Kansas City yesterday morning on an early train, with a wish and a determination to get married. they didn't feel so old nor so responsible last night. This is the way of it:

Last Tuesday the young people ran away together from Lexington, Mo., where the young man is a student in Wentworth Military academy. The girl is just a girl. they were accompanied on their matrimonial excursion by two friends, Grace Nave, a cousin of Miss Chessie, and Calvin Cook of Bartlesville, also a student in the military academy. The plan of the eloping kittens was to get a marriage license in Kansas City, Kas., where officials dealing in Cupid's paper are generally supposed to be gentle and kind. They missed the direction and went "mooning around the vicinity of Third and Main streets at an early hour yesterday morning. There a policeman found them.

The police had been notified that the young people were headed toward Kansas City with some kind of a prank in veiw, and the policeman saw them and happened to remember. He nailed them.

Joel Wiliford, Woodford, Ok., father of Richard, had also been notified of his son's unceremonious leave in company with a little girl in skirts. The old gentleman hopped a train and got to Kansas City about as soon as the elopers. He dropped into central police station about the time that Richard and Chessie, Grace and Calvin were making a botch of trying to argue the police into the belief that while the resemblance was probably great, it was not absolute.

Papa Wiliford tried moral persuasion on his son. Nothing doing. Son was obdurate. What's the use of trying to make a soldier of a fellow, anyway, if you expect him to give up his girl at a mere parental command Richard said a soldier should never surrender. And he further declared he wouldn't. So into the dungeon cell went he, like any real, spicy, belted and buckled Don Juan of old. His good friend Calvin went along with him, but not from choice.

As for the girls, they saw life as it is from the matron's room Thus stood the matter all day. Richard would not desert the principles of academic soldiering, and Chessie vowed she would be as true as "Beautiful Bessie, the Banana Girl, or, "He Kissed Me Once and I Can't Forget." Then came Nash Ruby, brother-in-law of Chessie. He came From Lexington. He looked real fierce.


Forth from the dungeon cell marched Soldier Richard, and friend Calvin. Down from the matron's melancholy boudoir minced Chessie and Grace. They were herded into the office of Captain Walter Whitsett, where more moral suasion was rubbed on.

Richard, during the afternoon, had agreed with his father upon a compromise, bu which he was to return to school and finish his education. Later he took it all back. And w hen he saw Chessie he said:

"I'm going to marry you, Chessie, even if I never become a great general."

"That's where you're wrong," mildly said Papa Wiliford.

Then Chessie put in her word. But it didn't move anybody at all. Unless it was Nash Ruby, Brother-in-Law Nash. "You'll come along home with me, miss," said he. Chessie subsided. But when it came to parting, Richard uttered his defiance. "I'll be 21 before long," said he, "and then we can marry."

"I'll be true to you," sobbed Chessie.

Brother-in-law Nash led her away to catch a train for Lexington. this morning Richard will go to Woodford, Ok., with pa. Friend Calvin went home last night. That's all, except it is said Chessie made a face at her future father-in-law.

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January 3, 1910



Covered With Mud, He Broke
Into Station, but Later
Showed Big Roll.
Detective Joe Halvey Narrates a Tale.

Murder was in the air in the detective bureau rooms of Central police station -- murder, along with other things, particularly tobacco smoke. This is said to be the atmosphere of a police secret service department the world over.

It is stronger when there is a story telling contest on and the sweating of a murder suspect in an adjoining room. Detective Joe Halvey had elected to while away the time until the end of the secret conference. His audience consisted of newspaper men, Inspector of Detectives Edward Boyle and Detectives Robert Truman and Dave Oldham.

"It was a late spring night three years ago," said Detective Halvey. "One of those chilly early mornings when reporters love to sit about the 'phone in the lobby and call up instead of going out after their stories," he added, with a ponderous wink.


"It was a very cold night and a wind like the one spoken of in the scriptures was blowing down Missouri avenue."

"What kind of a thing was that scriptural wind?" inquired the reporter.

"I don't see why you intellectual cubs never seem to have had a religious bringing up," scornfully broke in Inspector Boyle, who prides himself in having maintained a Bible in his home since his marriage twenty years ago. "I think it is in Psalms where a March wind is spoken of that blows the straw hat wherever it listeth while many a good man and strong sweareth thereat."

The silence which followed the inspector's quotation was profound. The narrator took advantage of the lull.

"Well, it was getting along toward the second owl car. Michael O'Brien had just brought in a 'drunk' and booked him under the charge of investigation and Pat O'Brien and I were toasting our shins by a warm fire in this same office. I remember every detail, you see, just as though it was yesterday.


"Suddenly there came from somewhere on Fifth street near the Helping Hand institute, a blood curdling yell ending in a sort of a sob, as though some man was being choked.

"There were twelve good men in different parts of the station, wherever there was a heating stove, and all jumped at once. There had been a good many holdups during the winter months and of course the first thing we thought was that some villain had made a touch under the eaves of the station. We were not going to stand for that, no sir-e-e-e.

"I was about the first of the officers to reach the big folding doors in the north end of the station. My six shooter was in my hand and there was blood in my eye, I can tell you. If there was something going on I wasn't bound to let the blue uniformed mutts with the brass buttons do the pinch act to the discredit of the detective department.

"Just as I had reached the last step the doors flew open in my face. There was just enough time for action and no time for thought. A lean white streak had started to unwind itself up the stairway when I dropped on it like a thousand bricks.


" 'Look out below!' I yelled, grabbing it by the neck and bearing it to the linoleum. Then I made a careful analysis. what I was holding was a naked man shivering with the cold and dirtier than any tramp from having been dragged in the mud. 'Great thunder,' said I, 'this must be Adam returned to look after his Eden interests. Who are you, anyway?'


"It didn't take much tugging and hauling after I got up off of him to get him in front of the desk sergeant and it took still less time for the entire force to see that he was in the last stages of destitution. He didn't have a finger ring left and his clothing was mud.

" 'What's your name?' the sergeant asked.

" 'You can put me down John Smith,' said 'Adam' with a groan. 'I ain't got any other name, for political reasons. Gentlemen, what I want is clothes, clothes, clothes.'


"The nude wonder somehow looked respectable and we could see that he was right about what he wanted. Half a dozen of us took him into the sink room and gave him a bath, while the rest of the shortstops went in search of clothes. He was not a very tall man and very slim, while the officers we had to draw from were all big, so when we got done with dressing him he looked like a Populist of the short grass country the year of the drought.

"I can't help but laugh when I think of him sitting there in the detectives' room with the waist band of the sergeant's extra trousers drawn up under his arm and his feet in shoes the size of four-dollar dictionaries.


"But for all his togs he couldn't help but look respectable. Every time he opened his mouth he emitted an idea by the double handful, which was strange considering his appearance when we first saw him. He was no ordinary man, that was a cinch. He was a genius.


"About the time we were settling back into the humdrum of waiting until morning the unknown quantity took a hitch on himself and asked: 'Where are the reporters? Seems like there ought to be one or more around. It isn't time for the second mail edition yet.'

"We told him there was a little reporter named Billings in the room allowed for the use of newspaper men and that he was probably at that moment writing a story of how a naked, insane man had broken into the police station with the intent to murder the captain.

" 'I'll risk it,' he said with a laugh, 'send him to me.'

"We sent for Billings and it was evident that the two would be kindred spirits. The very first thing the stranger said to the reporter was what he refused to tell the sergeant, and that was how he had come to be naked. We had set him down to be a sort of a crank with spells of lucidness who had undressed and run into the station on a bet, but now we knew better.


" 'I was held up and robbed because I got into bad company trying to have a good time when I ought to have been decent,' he told Billings. 'I am sure none of this I tell you will get into the papers because I am a fellow newspaper man.

" 'Now what I want is clothes. I haven't got a cent but plenty of credit. I can get $10,000 anywhere when the banks open. I want you to strike some second-hand clothing store where the proprietor sleeps in the rear and get me a complete suit. I'll pay you when pay day comes.'

"Billings did not answer at once, and we could see he was studying hard. He had the money, for it was Saturday, the day he got paid, but he appeared not to like the idea of lending so much on such a short acquaintance. Finally an idea seemed to come to him. He looked sharply at the stranger and asked rather quick: 'What's thirty?' Now 'thirty' is a newspaper term that few people understand, but this one answered in a second, grinning from ear to ear: 'It means to chuck work and go home,' he answered.


"Well, sir, the reporter did just as he said and got a whole outfit for $14.50 and the stranger left at daybreak telling us all to stick around until he could get another and better rig and return.

"In three or four hours he was back. He had on a brand new suit of the best ready-made clothes in town, patent leather shoes and a plug hat. Also he had a roll of $100 bills so large that they wouldn't go into his inside coat pocket without a special effort. He was showing us that he had the credit he had boasted about.

"This time when we saw him he was feeling better toward the world and would talk more about himself, but he wouldn't tell his name, although I have since suspected the reporter knew it. He told us, though, that he was a prominent Missouri editor with aspirations to the United States senate.

"He had been in politics for years with his paper and never wanted anything so bad as that Senate plum. His platform from the start, he said, had been the cleaning up of the state morally.


" 'I have preached against immorality so much," he explained, 'that I just had to get out and find the truth about the other side. If my political enemies get hold of last night's caper it will be my undoing.'

"After he had gone the reporter looked at me and said: 'Well, we have promised never to mention this and it is safe, I guess. But my! what a story it would be for some newspapers I know.'

"The reporter is out of town now. By the way, Billings wasn't his name, either. I wonder which United States senatorial candidate that was?"

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December 3, 1909


Man's Complaint Causes Charge of
Not Having City License.

Rosa Adams, 18 years old, who says she has gypsy blood in her veins, and who has been following the occupation of a non-union fortune teller, was arrested by the police yesterday upon complaint of a man who said he paid her fifty cents for a fortune, the result being unsatisfactory.

Rosa and her 2-year-old baby were taken to No. 4 police station, then to Central police station, where they were released on bail. Mrs. Adams told the police matron that she was the sole support of a large family. The charge against the fortune teller is that she does not possess a city license. She says she did not know she needed one.

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July 27, 1909


Central Station Holdover to Be Re-
modeled Along Modern Lines.

If the plans of Walter C. Root, a member of the tenement commission, are carried out, the holdover and "chute" will not be so uninhabitable in the future. Accompanied by Commissioner Thomas R. Marks, Mr. Root visited the holdover yesterday. He will superintend its remodeling.

The plans call for a separate chute for female prisoners while police court is in session and they are awaiting trial.

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June 26, 1909


Police Dump Confiscated Weapons
in the River.

A sale of all unclaimed articles left by prisoners at police headquarters will be held this afternoon at the Central police station. The list includes every sort of personal belongings, except revolvers.

All the "guns" left in the possession of the police by prisoners and unclaimed were dumped into the Missouri river from the middle of the Hannibal bridge last week. There were about fifty cheap revolvers in the lot.

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April 4, 1909


Sergeant Halligan Rewarded for
Twenty-Seven Years' Service.

Sergeant Michael Halligan of No. 4 police station, for twenty-seven years a popular officer of the force, has been appointed to fill the vacancy made by the resignation of Lieutenant H. W. Hammil from that station last Wednesday. The latter is now a special detective at the Baltimore hotel. The appointment was made Wednesday by the police board, but Mr. Halligan did not receive the good news until yesterday when two of his friends from the city hall passed him in a buggy and called out:

"Congratulations, lieutenant!"

Later the official notice was received at the station and it was up to the newly-made lieutenant to buy cigars for everyone from Captain Thomas Flahive down to the reporters of the afternoon papers.

Lieutenant Halligan was born in County Wexford, Ireland, fifty years ago. He came to Kansas City in 1881 and became a member of the police force the year following. Since the day he was entered on the roll of patrolmen, walking beats out of Central station, he has not missed a day and there are no charges of inefficiency marked against him. Next to Captain Frank Snow and Chief Daniel Ahern he is the oldest officer in point of years of service in the department.

Patrolman J. M. Bottoms from No. 5 station has been named to fill the sergeantcy left vacant by the promotion of Lieutenant Halligan.

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January 23, 1909


One Finds Way to Hospital and the Other
to Police Station.

"You are jollying, John, John Jones said to John Birmingham last night as the two sat in a store at 250 West Fourth street. For some reason the insinuation was objected to by Birmingham and he swung one of his crutches against John Jones's head. The crutch broke and so did Jones's head. Jones was taken to the emergency hospital and Birmingham to Central station. Both men were later arrested and charged with disturbing the peace.

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January 22, 1909


Captain Whitsett Hears Hack Driv-
er's Story and Releases Him.

"Well, Ed, guess I will have to take you down," Patrolman Mastin said to Edward Bennett, 607 Locust street, yesterday afternoon.

"Guess you better guess again," Bennett replied, believing the patrolman was joking with him.

But the patrol wagon was summoned. Bennett, a hackdriver, was sent to Central station and booked on a charge of vagrancy.

Bennett said that he had a fight with Jack Gallagher at the Star hotel about a month ago. The situation was explained to Captain Walter Whitsett. He called the prisoner, who told a straightforward story and was released.

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January 15, 1909


Thought Tables Had Been Ordered
Out of Coffee Houses.

A committee from the Greek coffee house proprietors filled the lobby of Central police station early last evening to see Captain of Police Walter Whitsett in regard to their business.

The coffee house of Gust Agriomalos, 404 West Fifth street, and Gust Alivizos, 423 West Fifth street, were raided Thursday afternoon by the police and the proprietors and 156 frequenters taken to the station.

In the municipal court yesterday morning Agriomalos and Alivizos were fined $500 each and the frequenters $1 each. The charge against them was gambling. The Greek proprietors understood Judge Henry G. Kyle to instruct them to take the tables out of the coffee houses. After conferring with each other later in the morning the Greeks could not see how they could conduct their coffee houses without tables and appointed a committee to see the police about the matter.

Captain Whitsett told them they could keep their tables in the restaurants, but that they would not be allowed to gamble and it would be best to do away with all card playing.

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December 29, 1908





Wife, Who Is a Graduate of Swarth-
more College, Learned Gym-
nasatic Stunts in the Co-
Ed's Gymnasium.

But for the prompt arrival of Dr. R. A. Shiras from the Walnut street police station yesterday at noon the romance of Mr. and Mrs. Warren Bates, begun two years ago while plying in the musical comedy, "The Gingerbread Man," would have terminated fatally. The husband, dejected because the wife turned him away from her door on account of a domestic difference, had taken half an ounce of aconite in order to kill himself. Dr. Shiras gave him an antidote and the ambulance took the young man to Central police station, where he was locked up until he had fully recovered from the effects of the drug.

Bates, who is only 22 years old, handsome, athletic and well dressed, came from a good family in Philadelphia and graduated from a state normal school. While at college he learned to do tumbling stunts in the gymnasium and also devoted much time to amateur theatricals. When he left school he had an opportunity to join the company playing "The Gingerbread man," and seized upon it. With the same company was a pretty young actress who had also a gymnastic turn. Sometimes they used to work together. She was a graduate of Swarthmore college and had acquired her fondness for athletic stunts, while practicing in the co-ed's gym. Being persons from a similar station in life and both attractive, propinquity soon got in its work. They were married, and last year they started out on a vaudeville circuit in the South, doing a tumbling act. In the summer they returned to Philadelphia, where Bates became an agent for a horse and mule company.

"This year," said the young man, "we decided to give up the stage for good. After all the life of an actor must always be an unsatisfactory one and we thought we would settle down in Kansas City and raise a family."

They came here and Bates got a job with the Jones Dry Goods Company. They lived happily until differences began to arise about a month ago. Sunday night Bates went home and there was a lively quarrel, the husband finally leaving the house in anger. Yesterday morning he went back to see her, but she refused to open the door and would only speak to him through it. She told him to go away, that their paths must be thereafter separate. Bates went away and purchased and purchased some horse medicine from a druggist, including half an ounce of aconite. He then swallowed the drug.

"I am going to try to get my wife to make up with me," he said yesterday, "and then I'm going to take her back to Philadelphia, where our people live. Then I think we can be happy."

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December 22, 1908


Jupiter Brothers Do Their Tricks at
Station, Mystifying All.

"You may be able to do that act on the stage, but I don't believe you can get away with it when your audience is gathered close around you," said Joe Steibel, assistant manager of the Orpheum, to the Jupiter brothers after he had seen their cabinet trick Sunday afternoon. Mr. Steibel, like all press agents, is of a suspicious nature.

"We'll do it anywhere on earth," retorted "Bud" Jupiter. And Mr. Steibel took the next car to the police station, where he made arrangements for the brothers to put on their act before the police.

The brothers arrived at police headquarters yesterday morning. They carried a gas pipe frame, an iron chair and a black cloth. The frame was erected, the cloth was thrown over it and the chair was put inside the cabinet.

"Bill" Jupiter sat in the chair and his brother tied him and sewed the sleeves of his shirt to the legs of his trousers. A crowd of policemen examined all the apparatus, searched the men and approved the knots and the sewing.

The curtain hung so the policemen could see the tied man's feet. The curtain was closed, and through a hole in it he stuck his head. Immediately, hands began to appear from holes all over the cabinet. They were evidently Mr. Jupiters hands, but they appeared and reappeared so quickly that it seemed as though there were a dozen.

Then the hands began to hand out flowers, carnations, roses and lillies. A tamborine, bells and a zither were handed in and these were played all at once.

The curtain was drawn back and Mr. Jupiter was found to be securely tied and the threads were not broken.

The Jupiter brothers are from Pond Creek, Ok. They used to do this trick for the benefit of the neighbors and had no idea that their act was of value until an agent for the Orpheum circut discovered them.

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December 22, 1908



The Girl Declares She Is 18, and That
Her Father Wants Her Single
So He Can Use
Her Land.

Young hopes were blighted and an elopement nipped in the bud late yesterday afternoon, when a telegram was received at Central police station from Sheriff L. S. Dallas of Mayes county, Okla., asking that Dora Fair, a quarter-blood Cherokee Indian lass, and Louis Rodgers, said to be part negro and part Indian, be held until further notice.

The couple were arrested by detectives in the Union depot the moment they alighted from the northbound train. The girl was dressed in a blue serge dress. Because of an extraordinary shortness of her skirt she appeared much younger than 18, which she gave as her age. She was pretty, too, and an abundance of dark hair hung below her waist. Rodgers also looked the typical half-breed Indian.

Miss Fair and her lover were taken to police headquarters, the girl being placed in the detention room, Rodgers getting an iron-bound den in the basement.

"It's all a mistake and it's cruel to keep us from getting married when we have gone to such trouble to get here where we supposed no one would look for us," sobbed Dora to Police Matron Joanna Moran last night. "I am sure it was my father who sent the telegram. He never wanted me to get married at all, he never did. My mother, who was a pure-blooded Cherokee, ran away from us when I was a baby and father married again. He always liked me. I own the land he farms, or tries to farm, near Pryor Creek.


"I have known Louis since I was a little girl and we had grown very fond of each other before he came back from the West this last time. He used to work for father, but they had a disagreement several months ago so Louis skipped out for Montana.

"Several times I told father I loved Louis and wanted to marry, but all I got for my pains was advice not to marry. He always tried to joke me out of the notion. When I saw he never would be serious about my relations to Louis, we packed up our duds and skipped.

"The plan was to come to Kansas City first, get married and then go to Montana to the beet fields where working men like Louis can get good wages, or about $75 a month. That would have been enough to support us with the rent off my farm and the $600 Louis had saved.

"But my father was very angry, as we knew he would be, when he heard about our running away. When he is out of patience he will say and do anything, so in order to stop us I guess he sent word to the officers here that Louis was a negro with kinky hair and I was only 16 years old, which is wrong. Louis is brother to my father's wife, or my step-mother, and there is no negro blood in him. I was 18 last January 15."


Before the Fair girl was taken to the detention room at the station she was kept for several hours at the Helping Hand institute. She cried continually and would not be pacified.

"I want to find Louis!" she kept crying. "We were to be married today and it is getting late. He must be waiting for me somewhere. What will he think!"

Rodgers was called from his cell to be examined by Police Captain Walter Whitsett last night. He told a straight story. corresponding in every particular to that of his sweetheart. When he was returned to the cell the captain said he thought the boy was a good worker and honest and intended to marry the girl all right and would have done so if left alone yesterday.

According to Rodgers his father and mother were both fullblooded Cherokee Indians.

Sheriff Dallas is expected to appear at Central police station sometime this afternoon. It is thought extradition papers will not be necessary.

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December 11, 1908


Sherman Short, an Evangelist, Ap-
pears at Headquarters and Tells
How the Trouble Began.

Ever since the riot of fanatics Tuesday afternoon the police have been searching for the man who, greatly excited, ran into the station just after George M. Holt and told his story and cried, "Some of you had better come out here and see to these people. There are a lot of men and women over there on the corner, crazy as loons and all have guns. Even the children have guns. Somebody will be killed, sure. Hurry.

It was just at that juncture that Sergeant Patrick Clark said to A. O. Dalbow, "shortstop" at headquarters, "Go out there, 'Dol,' and see what's the matter." With a smile on his face Dalbow followed the excited man out of the door. Three minutes later he staggered into the door of the emergency hospital, fell on the steps as his revolver dropped from his nerveless grasp. He spoke but once and died. Then followed the bloody fight in which Michael Mullane lost his life and Sergeant Clark was so dangerously wounded.

Yesterday afternoon the much sought for man walked calmly into headquarters and announced that he had been a witness of the affair from its beginning at the Poor Man's mission, 309 Main street. John W. Hogan, an assistant prosecutor, was at the station and he took the man's statement.


The witness, who is an evangelist, gave the name of Sherman Short. His home is now near Clarence, Mo., but he once lived here. His statement follows:

Tuesday afternoon I happened to be at Fifth and Main streets. There I saw Mrs. Sharp and Pratt's children holding a street meeting. She seemed frantic about something, fanatical, in fact. I heard her say, "If any one can convince us that we are not right we'd like to have them do it for we are awfully in earnest."

Then Mrs. Sharp said something about adjourning to the mission where the prophet would speak. I was interested and wanted to see this man spoken of as a prophet so I went on ahead, knowing where the mission was she had spoken of. When I got there I introduced myself to the prophet, who proved to be Sharp. He was talking to J. C. Creighton, who ran the mission.

When he began to talk to me he said, "My earthly name is Sharp. I am King David in the spirit -- the Lord of the vineyard. The spirit of King David is in me. Should it prove that I am the Lord of the vineyard I am going to reorganize things on this old earth."

Just then the woman and children came in. The children spoke to a man standing by the stove -- Pratt I learned later -- called him "Pa" and said "the Humane officer is after us." Right then Mr. Holt came to the door and addressing Sharp said, "Are you the father of these children?" He said, "I am," and Mr. Holt asked why they were not in school and added, "You'll have to keep these children off the streets anyway."


Sharp then began another harangue about being King David, the lord of the vineyard. Mr. Holt paid little attention to him but said, "If you don't properly care for these children we will have to do it." While Mr. Holt was talking Mr. Pratt and his children stuck their tongues out at him and called him names, at the same time saying "Amen" to everything Sharp would say.

Holt showed Sharp his star, at which the fanatic said, "I don't pay attention to such as that. God's got no policemen, no jails, no officers." Then Sharp began to curse in the vilest language at Mr. Holt, shoved him towards the door and said he'd fix him for that. There was some excitement in there and I did not see him strike Mr. Holt. I heard him declare that he'd preach right in front of the station and no one could stop him.

When Mr. Holt had gone Sharp took out a big knife and gun, flourished them and said, "Come on children; we'll show 'em what we'll do." The women and larger girls drew guns as they went out the door and marched toward police headquarters. He announced that he would hold a meeting with the children right in front of the station and would not be stopped either.


Mr. Short then told of the riot, saying that Pratt was the first man to fire a shot. His account differs little from that of other eye witnesses. Short said he had known J. C. Creighton and wife, who conducted the Poor Man's mission for eight years. Eight years ago, he said, he was in a meeting at Fourteenth and Baltimore which Creighton was conducting. "The night I speak of Creighton went into a trance, or appeared to do so, and scared a whole lot of people. He was taken to police headquarters and treated. He has always been a visionary man."

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December 9, 1908


J. C. Creighton Belongs to a Cult Sim-
ilar of That of the "Adam
God" People.

While their stronghold has been the houseboat at the foot of Delaware street, the band of religious fanatics has had its real headquarters in the Poor Men's mission, 309 Main street. Sharp and his followers reached Kansas City Friday morning. Friday night, and every night since that time, they have been holding their meetings and preaching to audiences in the Poor Men's mission. Early last evening J. C. Creighton, owner of the mission, was arrested for investigation, it being believed that he was one of the Sharp cult.

Mrs. Creighton did not know that her husband had been arrested, and when seen at the mission last night she made the following statement:

"My husband and a few followers have a religion which is similar to the Adam God religion. It is for that belief that we keep this mission for poor people. Jack Pratt is really the leader of the Adam God people, being Adam God himself. Louis Pratt is his brother. It is my belief that Jack Pratt is in Kansas city, though I don't know for sure.

"We knew the Adam God people, two years ago when they spent the winter in Kansas City. Then there was some trouble between them and the police. Friday we saw them preaching on the street and later that day they came to our mission. They have held meetings here every night since that time.

When asked what kind of religion it was which caused men to lose fear of bullets or weapons, Mrs. Creighton replied:

"We believe that the body never dies. The book of Revelation tells us that there will be 144,000 persons whom God will care for and preserve at the end of the world. We all try to live so that we can be one of them. Bullets could not hurt our bodies then, for we will live until Christ comes to earth again, which will be very soon, within a lifetime. Besides those differences the belief is the same as Christianity. Only those who do not live right with God will lose their bodies, their souls will live on in some newborn child."

J. C. Creighton, owner of the Poor Man's mission, formerly a janitor in a flat at Admiral boulevard and Troost avenue, did not talk much in his cell at Central station last night. He denied knowledge of the Sharps or Pratts for several minutes, but finally admitted having known the Adam God people two years ago. He said that the first he had seen of them this time was Sunday, but would not admit that they had ever held meetings in his room, or ever asked permission to do so. He made a similar statement to the prosecuting attorney.

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October 29, 1908


Brave and Efficient Officer, and Had
Been in City's Service
Many Years.

After an illness of more than two months, William James Morley, captain at No. 5 police station, died yesterday afternoon about 5 o'clock. He had been for twenty-two years one of the most efficient members of the police force of the city. He was 57 years old.

Captain Morley was born in Ireland, but emigrated to this country at the age of 18 years. He became a railroad man and soon rose to the position of assistant yardmaster at Binghampton, N. Y. It was there that he married and then moved to Kansas City, coming in at the same time that the C. B. & Q railway did, thirty-two years ago.

He was made yardmaster, a position which he held for ten years. At the end of that time he gave up his position to become a policeman, and was assigned to the Central police station. He was a brave and capable officer and made a number of good captures. At the end of ten years' service as a patrolman he was made a sergeant and stationed at No. 4 station. Seven years ago, as a reward for faithful service, he was made a lieutenant in charge of the desk at the Walnut street station. There he remained until September, 1907, when he was made captain and placed at the Westport station.

Captain Morley was wounded in the service fo the city once, that being during a fight in the West Bottoms, in which he was accidentally shot in the left shoulder by a brother officer while trying to arrest a burglar.

Captain Morley was singularly fortunate in his business ventures. Many years ago he bought a strip of land in the West Bottoms, which the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul railway bought from him at an increased price. He also invested in other real estate, and he invariably made a handsome profit on every transaction. Hhis fortune is estimated at $15,000. At the time of his death he owned some business property on Grand avenue and several houses, besides farming land.

Captain Morley's private life was happy. He lived many years in the ho use where he died at 3418 Broadway, an old-fashioned frame house set far back in the yard. Besides his wife his family consisted of five children. Katherine is now in Binghampton, N. Y.; Mrs. P. E. Fagan loves in Kansas City. Louis C. is a steamfitter; John is a farmer in Jackson county and William J. Morely, Jr., is a miner in Ely, Nev. Two grandchildren also survive. Captain Morley was a devout Catholic and a member of the Annunciation parish. He belonged to the order of Heptosophs.

"I worked with Captain Morley for fifteen years," siad Captain Thomas P. Flahive last night, "and I always found him honest, fearless and efficient as well as considerate and kind hearted. The police force of Kansas City has lost one of its finest and truest men."

The funeral services will be held Friday morning at the home, but the exact time has not been determined. Catholic rites will be used.

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August 3, 1908


Police Headquarters Desk Sergeant
Did It by Imagination.

Desk Sergeant Holly Jarboe, at police headquarters, has always been a man of an inventive mind. Yesterday, when the heat was most suffocating, he hit upon a plan to keep cool. Back of the booking desk at the Central station is, or was, a picture of an ice-bound boat with the North pole off in the distance. Jarboe sat for some time gazing at the picture and wiping perspiration from his brow and face. Suddenly seizing a pair of scissors from his desk, he took the picture from its place on the wall.

Deftly he cut out four large chunks of ice and the North pole. These he placed in his pocket, to the amazement of his brother officers.

"What's that for, Holly?" questioned Sergeant Patrick Clark.

"I just put a few hunks of ice and the North pole in my pocket to keep me cool," he replied as he place his handkerchief back in his coat pocket.

"Well, you certainly are that imaginative kid," said the sergeant, who later was caught in the act of pilfering the remaining pieces of ice from the picture.

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June 30, 1908


As Result of a Prank Played by a
Companion on Police.

There was a joker in the holdover at Central station last night, and his idea of a joke resulted in a bath to several occupants of the underground apartments, formerly devoted to women.

A water pipe with tap at the end served to irrigate the prisoners in this section of the holdover. The joker twisted the pipe at 1:00 this morning and broke it. The crook he gave it turned the stream fairly upon his companion's bunks.

It looked like a mutiny for a while, those defenseless hoboes under a stream of water, pure water, and solid walls on four sides.

A plumber came after half an hour's lapse and shut off the stream. The police didn't know whom, at least that's what they told the drenched hoboes.

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June 20, 1908


Rev. Brown, Under Liquor, Is Ar-
rested. Says He Has Passed
Worthless Checks and Played
in Some Stiff Games.

"The way of the transgressor is hard." This was the text of a sermon preached by the Rev. C. S. L. Brown at the West Side Christian church, Twentieth street and Pennsylvania avenue, on Sunday night, October 7, 1906. His subject was "Lights and Shadows of Life, or Positive and Negative Teachings."

Since that memorable night when the Rev. Mr. Brown, who six years before had worked as a porter at the Hotel Baltimore, preached before a large congregation, many of whom were his personal friends, glad of his success, he has found out the hard truth of his text -- "The way of the transgressor is hard."

Last night the Rev. Mr. Brown was arrested at Sixth and Walnut streets by Patrolman Harry Arthur. He was locked up for investigation and spent the night in a cell at Central station. When arrested he was in the street. He had thrown away his hat, his coat was off and he had all but stripped the upper portion of his body of clothing.

It was the same Rev. Mr. Brown who a few months ago stood boldly before his congregation at Lee's Summit, Mo., and acknowledged that he had been gambling and drinking. He was drinking last night. When he occupied the pulpit of Rev. W. O. Thomas here in October, 1906, Rev. Mr. Brown then was pastor of a Christian church at Washington, Kas. His mother, a woman of wealth and culture, lives there now. His wife and four small children are with his mother. He is 30 years old.

The minister admitted last night he had been drinking and gambling in Kansas City almost ever since his downfall at Lee's Summit. He said he had passed about $60 worth of worthless checks. He could recall one for $12.50 on C. J. Mees, a saloonkeeper, Sixth and Walnut; one for $15 on James Riddle, saloon, Independence avenue and McGee street, and two at Lee's Summit.

"I can trace my downfall to the love of a woman," he said, with tears in his eyes. "Then the gamblers got hold of me here and what they have left you see now -- a wreck, beaten, down and out. I am willing to take my medicine like a man and serve my five or ten years, but before God I will not divulge the name of the woman. Her name must be protected, as I alone am to blame.

"When I got in my trouble and had to leave my church and Lee's Summit," he continued, "a minister friend down there went to my mother at Washington, Kas., and got $400 to square things. She told him he could have ten times that amount. With part of that I even paid gambling debts to men here who since have refused to give me 10 cents to buy a dish of chile.

"Gambling! Gambling!" he almost shrieked. "Is there much gambling here? Yes. I could lead you to some of the stiffest games you ever saw and they seem to be running with ease. Of course most of them are in hotels and hard to catch. Yes, I have been before the grand jury with it."

The Rev. Mr. Brown refused to divulge the names of the men who had "trimmed" him here. He said "Their time will come later. He said that he went through the Boer war in the service of England. Then he was a soldier of fortune.

"It was there I contracted the drinking and gambling habits," he admitted with bowed head. "I felt the craving for the old habits returning and battled with them as long as I could. At a weak moment, other troubles begetting me, I fell 'as the angels fell from Heaven to the blackest depths of Hell.' Since then the course has been down, down, down with an awful rush."

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June 1, 1908


Former Prisoner Takes Nerve in His
Hand to No Avail.

On the strength of old acquaintance, a man from Douglass county, Kas., thought that he might get a check for $10 cashed at the central police station yesterday afternoon. He walked up to Holly Jarboe, desk sergeant, and pleaded that he was stranded in Kansas City with no funds other than the $10 check.

"I am sorry," said Jarboe, "but your face does not look very familiar to me. I would like to oblige you, but I am almost afraid to risk it."

"Why, don't you remember me?" he asked in amazement. "I was arrested and met you about three months ago. Don't you recall it now? I was in for safe keeping."

Jarboe did not remember.

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May 18, 1908




De Rosa Shot at His Assailant, Police
Shot at Him, and Everybody
Missed -- De Rosa Only

Shots, cries, hurrying feet; a cut throat, poor marksmanship, a woman; black whiskers, Black Hand and a bunch of policemen that couldn't hit Clay county if it stood on edge, were factors in a riotous drama near police headquarters at 11:30 o'clock last night.

It started when Alessandro De Rosa, who is a bartender at 302 Main street, went to his place of employment to roll a few lemons and knock a bung or two for the brief, but brisk, hour of trade between midnight and 1 a. m. Alessandro had inserted his key in the front door lock and was bending over it, grunting a bit because it turned with difficulty, when a heavily whiskered man darted from the shadow of the next doorway, slashed De Rosa's throat twice with a knife and ran.

De Rosa, who is tough under the chin, thanks to shaving for many years past in North End barber shops, wasn't much more than scratched. He jerked a revolver from his pocket and fired at the flying whiskers. Once, twice, thrice, he blazed away, but the person with the beard and dull knife ran up on Main street toward Fourth. De Rosa followed, shouting for the police and snapping his revolver, which had gone to sleep, at every leap.

The police were awake in Central station, Fourth and Main streets, at that hour. They heard the noise and turned out, several of them, just as the whiskered man wheeled into West Fourth street and galloped toward Wyandotte.

The police added their imperious commands to the tenor wail of Alessandro de Rosa, but whiskers bobbed along with hardy disregard. Shots sounded again, and the fugitive increased his gait, while Alessandro, who was behind the policemen, and ripe in experience, took shelter back of a fat telephone pole.

The fugitive passed into the penumbra of a wholesale house, became obscured in the eclipse of black shadow, and the police pelted on. When they came to the point where the man they chased had disappeared, they halted. Another man, but whiskerless, was walking toward them, calm, unagitated. They nabbed him, and led him into the light.

Alessandro de Rosa had come up by then, and when he saw the captive he exulted.

"It is Joe Lasola," said he, "but he wore whiskers w hen he cut my throat."

On the way to the station a policeman found the whiskers, lying where Lasola had cast them in his flight. They were made of black dyed wool, clumsy, dense, with a tin attachment to hook them on behind the ears.

De Rosa said that he had quarreled with Lasola over a woman. That was the whole trouble. Lasola, being known to him, knew he could not approach withing damaging distance in his own proper face, so he had made the whiskers and waited.

The police brought the woman from the address given by De Rosa. She said her name was Anita Zuvino and that she knew Joe Lasola to be a member of the Black Hand. She had lived with him formerly, she said, and offered as evidence a newly-healed knife wound on the back of her hand. Lasola received money each month from headquarters of the Black Hand organization, she declared.

Lasola repudiated everything, but the whiskers. He grinned when they were held up before him.
De Rosa's wounds are only slight. Lasola passed through the rain of fire without a mark. He was held by the police and will be turned over to the state authorities today.

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May 15, 1908


Another Charge of Brutality Against
Central Station Officers -- Case
May Be Investigated.

Geoge Horter, a laborer living at 408 Main street, was fined $500 in police court yesterday after Charles Winters, another laborer, had identified him as being one of two men who "strong armed" him at Third and Grand avenue about midnight and took $14 away from him.

Horter said he knew F. H. Ream of the Helping Hand who would testify to his good character. He also said that he could prove an alibi. Mr. Ream, who was in court, got the case continued until today when he expects to produce evidence that will clear Horter. Horter says he was knocked down by the police when arrested and was again slugged at the sergent's desk. Sensational testimony is expected to develop in the case. Horter had but $1.37 when arrested.

"I will prove that Horter was with W. F. Chappell, George Schaeffer and John Ward from 6 p. m. until seven minutes of 1 o'clock," said Mr. Ream. "Walter Corner, the day clerk at 408 Main, was with all of them from 11 p. m. until the latter time. The man who was robbed, while he positively identified Horter in court, I will prove was drunk when he had Horter arrested and and was unable to identify anybody. I will also prove that he said he was robbed by two negroes, not white men. He told the police that he lost $11, and in court said it was $14.

"I have known Horter since February 22. He is a quiet, inoffensive boy and has worked for several responsible families here, all of whom made good reports about him. Horter tells me that he was slugged twice by the police -- for what I don't know. He said he was knocked down by a patrolman when arrested. He knows that policeman's name. He also says he was knocked nearly unconscious at the sergeant's desk. He does not know the officer's name, but will point him out if he is in court. If the officer is not I intend to find out who slugged this boy and for what. That will not be an end to the matter, either."

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May 3, 1908





Plaster of Paris Molds, Melting Pots
and Other Paraphernalia for
Producing Bogus Coins Dis-
covered by Police.

In the arrest of a couple giving the name of George and Tillie Bullene at 511 Locust street last night, the police are certain they have a pair of genuine counterfeiters. Four plaster of paris molds, two of them still damp, two pots for melting metal, two batteries and a bad dollar were found in the room. All of the molds are of a dollar.

The woman confessed to Police Sergeant M. E. Ryan, the sergeant says, that for the past year she has been living with Bullene and has been passing the "queer" as fast as he made it. To reporters, however, she refused to make any statement.

Mrs. Bullene brought about the arrest herself. She entered Hudson's drug store at Fifth and Broadway early in the evening. She made a purchase which came to 15 cents, and pushed a dollar slowly along the counter.

T. H. Murphy, a drug clerk, was in the store visiting a friend. The woman's actions attracted his attention and aroused his suspicions. Taking the dollar in his hand he felt of it and said:

"This is a bum dollar. Where did you get it?"

"Well, I declare," said the woman, in apparent surprise, "Let me see who did give me that. Give it here. I think I know who gave it to me now."

With that she left the drug store. Murphy, still filled with suspicion, followed the woman at a safe distance. Many times she looked back, but he always managed to elude her vision. When she got to 511 Locust street she cast one more quick glance behind and darted hurriedly into the house.

Murphy felt that his suspicions were confirmed. He went at once to police headquarters and told his story to Sergeant M. E. Ryan, who detailed Sergeant Peter McCosgrove and Patrolman Joseph Enright on the case. They found both people at the house and placed them under arrest. In the woman's purse was found six "phony" dollars. No bad coin was found on the man.

Two of the molds show plainly that they have been recently used, and there are two which appear to have been made only a few hours, as the plaster had not set. In a match box with some small chips of copper was another "bad" dollar. It is well made, however, and has a ring almost like a good dollar. Ground glass is sometimes used to give counterfeit coins the proper ring. When Enright and Cosgrove brought the molds and metal pots to headquarters they mentioned casually that "there are two old batteries attached out there. We left them."

They were sent back to the room to bring in everything. The batteries are used to give counterfeit coins a thin coating of silver, it is said.

The woman's trunk was taken to Central station about midnight and searched. It was filled with small articles such as cheap soap, perfume, face lotions and other toilet articles which had not cost more than 5 or 10 cents each. She evidently had confined her operations largely to drug stores in passing the spurious coins.

The pair will be turned over to the federal authorities.

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February 28, 1908


Whisky Alarm Clock and Pair of
Scissors His Booty.

Stultz Bros., wholesale liquor dealers at 618 Southwest boulevard, reported to the police yesterday that a thief had broken into their store Wednesday night and had stolen six quarts of rock and rye, three gallons of straight whisky, an alarm clock and a pair of scissors.

The variety of this booty sorely perplexed the police. It was the oddest combination ever recorded in the grand larceny department of Central station. After a closed session of the board of logical deduction, the local Sherlocks submitted the following theory as their best:

The thief probably had a bad cold, so he stole the rock and rye to cure the cold. Naturally, after effecting the cure of a bad cold, the thief wanted to celebrate properly, so he stole the three gallons of straight whisky.

This much of the strange mystery being deduced along safe and sane lines, the rest comes easy. He took the alarm clock in order to wake up the jag, and the theft of the scissors probably was for the sole purpose of "cutting it all out."

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February 25, 1908





Two confidence men, who had fleeced J. W. Burrows, and Oklahoma ranchman, out of $1,000, were captured last night after an exciting chase, in which several shots were fired, and then, after being in the safe custody of two officers, made their escape at Eighth and Delaware streets through the alleged interference of Roy Casey, a constable of Justice Remley's court.

Both confidence men were arrested by Detective Lyngar, who captured the smaller of the swindlers as he was emerging from a Leavenworth car at the Junction. The larger of the confidence men jumped through the car window and fled down Delaware street. Lyngar, dragging the smaller prisoner with him, gave chase and finally fired at the escaping prisoner. The bullet entered the right arm and the man fell exhausted near the rear of the American Bank building.

Lyngar, determined to catch his man, turned the uninjured prisoner over to Patrolman Regan, and then grabbed the second man. The officers and prisoners then started for the call box at Eighth and Delaware streets and it is here, witnessees say, that Casey interfered.


Casey, in company with David S. Russell and C. E. Reckert of the city engineer's office, pushed through the crowd that had gathered and stopped Lyngar. Casey's explanation is that he did not know Lyngar was an officer and thought that he was going to shoot Patrolman Regan, who was marching in front with the injured prisoner. O. P. Rush of 3015 Olive street and L. R. Ronwell of 1902 East Thirty-first street witnessed the affair and told the police that they heard Lyngar tell Casey that he was an officer.

At any rate an arguent ensued. Patrolman Regan, who was holding his prisoner by the collar of his overcoat, turned around to ascertain what the trouble was. In an instant the inured prisoner slipped out of his overcoat and dived into the crowd. Regan pursued him, firing three shots at the criminal as he ran west on Eighth street. None of the bullets seem to have taken effect.

These shots created fresh excitement and Lyngar, furious with Casey's interruption, loosened his hold on the other man. In an instant the prisoner had jerked away from the officer and was lost in the crowd.


The only satisfaction Regan and Lyngar got was in arresting Casey. Regan rapped him twice over the head and Lynar took the constable to the Central station, where he was released on $26 bail. Casey had been attending the Republican convention.

The inured thief not alone lost his overcoat, but in plunging through the crowd lost his hat and undercoat as well. He was traced as far as Second and Wyandotte streets, where he purchased a new hat and coat. Then he ran toward the Kansas City Southern yards.


Upon the complaint of J. W. Burrows, Oklahoma ranchman, that he had been swindled out of $1,000 by the two confidence men, Detectives Lyngar and Lewis were assigned to the case. Lewis was called away, so Lyngar accompanied by Burrows, made the investigation alone. At the Junction, Burrows espied the two men inside a Leavenworth car at about 9 o'clock. Lyngar went after them. The larger of the men, finding the front entrance of the car shut off, jumped through a window. The smaller attempted to brush by Lyngar, but the detective grabbed him It was following this that the chase began, which ended in Casey's intererence and the escape of the men.

The coat lost by the injured prisoner contained a book which indicates that he lives in the vicinity of the Union stock yards in Chicago.

About 1 o'clock this morning police officers found the coat of the smaller of the two confidence men, from which he also slipped when he escaped from the officer's grasp. It was in Brannon's saloon, on Delaware street, near Eighth.

When the smaller "con" man squirmed out of the garment it fell in the crowd, which parted to allow him to pass. It is not known who took it to the saloon. It is the theory of the police that the $1,000 stolen from the ranchman was in the pocket of the little man's coat when he was captured. It wasn't there when the coat was found.

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February 23, 1907





Even After Being Strapped to Her Bed
She Makes Her Escape For
The Second Time --
Finally Subdued.

Attendants at the emergency hospital have had lively times with insane people, but the most strenuous time so far was Friday night and yesterday morning with Mrs. Emma Lucas, a demented woman, en route from Los Angeles, Cal., to Toledo, O. The woman was acting suspiciously at the Grand Central depot, Second and Wyandotte streets, and was taken to Central station late Friday night for investigation. When it was seen that she was demented she was transferred to the emercency hospital.

Mrs. Lucas, who is 27 years old, is a large woman and strong. She was confined in the women's ward but in a short while some one discovered her ponderous form climbing over the fence surrounding City Hall park. She had escaped through a window.

Dr. Ralph A. Shiras, who is not large, sallied forth in pursuit He overtook the big woman on Fifth near Delaware street and grabbed hold of her. The woman shook him off with ease and in turn grabbed the doctor. Dragging him along behind as she would a toy wagon she walked nearly to the Wyandotte street depot with the struggling doctor before aid in the form of two policemen who loomed up on the horizon. Emma was subdued and again landed in the women's ward.

Early yesterday morning Mrs. Shiras, who is night nurse at the emergency hospital, was busy attending a case and did not notice Mrs. Lucas. She had entered the operating room and, from a case, secured a large surgical knife. The woman was as sly as a fox, as all insane persons generally are, and in concealing the deadly weapon under her garments she went stealthily back to her ward. Her actions were noticed, however, by a patient and the alarm given.

Mrs. Lucas was made to give up the knife and she was then placed to bed and restraining straps put on her. To this she objected very much and was continually crying to be released. When her breakfast was served yesterday morning the insane woman used the knife sent up with the meal to cut her straps.

Once more the big woman made her escape by a window and was not seen until she was climbing over the fence of City Hall park. Across the street she fairly flew into a clothing store, where she demanded the use of a telephone to call for help, she said.

The stream of doctors, attendants and board of health attaches which followed the demented person would remind one strongly of a chase seen almost weekly in the kinodrome pictures at the Orpheum theater. She was corralled and returned, a restraining strap dangling from one of her feet.

In what was thought to be a lucid interval later Mrs. Lucas told Colonel J. C. Greenman, who looks after the insane for the police, that she had hidden a sum of money in the women's wash room at the Grand Central depot. Colonel Greenman searched for it but found nothing. Mrs. Lucas said that when she arrived here the money was in a stocking and that a woman passenger had advised her to take it out. She said she did so and hid it in the washroom.

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January 1, 1908


Was H. W. Feigh Too Mellow to
Appreciate the Distinction?

H. W. Feigh, too much muddled to enjoy the distinction, was the first person arrested by the police in the year 1908. He was rounded up by Patrolman Walter Doman at Tenth and Main streets at 12:45 o'clock this morning and held at Central station for safe keeping.

The last person arrested in 1907 was John Franklin, picked up as a "vag" at Fifth and Main streets at 11:57 by Policeman W. R. Martin.

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September 30, 1907


Aged Man Taken to Central Station
for Safe Keeping.

"A man put his hands right in my pockets and took my money away from me. I remember that he took four $20 gold pieces, and all the time he was robbing me, a man watched him through a window and never said a word to make him stop."

Henry Mull, 70 years old, and feeble in mind and body, was telling Humane Agent McCrary yesterday afternoon in the police holdover how he believed he had been robbed. Late Saturday night he was found in the Union depot by Detective Bradley. He could not tell his name, where he came from or where he was going. He was taken to police headquarters for safekeeping. The officers took his money to keep for him, and he believed they had robbed him. He had $98 in cash, a check for $25 and a railroad ticket, which bore his name, was from Anaheim, Cal., to Springfield, Ill.

After McCrary had talked to him his memory partially returned. He has relatives in Springfield. He was taken to the Helping Hand, where he will be cared for while his relatives are communicated with.

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