Life — October 10, 1912 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“AEE The Majesty of the Law HERE was no evidence whatsoever against the prisoner. Indeed, there was no evidence against any- body. All that anyone knew about the case was that Mrs. de Sykes's jewels had been stolen; and that being so somebody must have taken them, and it was the misfortune of the prisoner that he happened to be some- body. Moreover, after the police had had him in charge for a few minutes, he had ceased to look like a reputable person, with his blackened eyes and swollen cheeks. “Tt is my duty to warn you aid the Chief of Police, after the prisoner had been brought in for examination, “that anything you may say here that is incriminating will be used against you at your trial.” At this point a Sergeant placed thumb-screw on the prisoner’s thumb and gave it a quick twist. “Ow—wow—ouch!” cried the pris- ener. “Say, that hurts!” “So I am told,” said the Chief of Police, pleasantly. “And I am glad that you admit it. Now do you sol- emnly swear that you will speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? a “Sure,” said the prisoner. “It can’t hurt me. I haven't done any- thing——” “That will do,” said the Chief. “No more of that, sir. You will con- fine your speech to answering my questions. Were you in the vicinity of this crime on the night in question? Be careful how you answer.” “No,” said the prisoner. “I wasn't within forty miles of the place.” “Tighten the screw a bit, Jimmie,” said the Chief to his assistant. Jimmie did as he was bade, and the prisoner let out a yell that split the roof. “Hush!” said the Chief of Police. “Hush! Remember that it is only the guilty that howl. Innocence wraps itself in the cloak of silent suffering. You really must be careful not to in- criminate yourself. Now try again. Were you anywhere near the scene of this crime on the night in question?” “T told you I wasn’t,” groaned the prisoner. “I don’t even know that a crime was commit——” Here the Sergeant thrust the end of his night-stick deep into the prison- er’s back, while the Chief himself gave another twist to the screws, which produced another howl of in- creased intensity from the sufferer. “ Start the fire in the stove, Jimmie,” said the Chief. “And when it’s red hot let me know. Now, sir,” he added, with a kindly smile at the prisoner, “let's start afresh and get this thing right.. Only do be careful of what you admit while under oath, for it will surely be used against you. Were you anywhere near the scene of action on the night this crime was committed?” “As [said before,” began the prisoner, but as the screw was tight- ened again he hesitated and tremulous- ly whimpered, “well, yes. I—I was sitting on a bench down on the Battery looking out over-—” “Oh, but you couldn't have bee interrupted the Chief, throwing the prisoner on the floor and turning the hose upon him in such force that the man gasped as though he were drown- ing. “Try to come a little closerp——" “Gee!” sputtered the dripping prisoner, shivering .with the icy cold of the water. “I—I'll be anywhere you want me to be on the night in question if you'll only turn off that water. Where do you want me to say I was?” “T want the truth—nothing more than the truth,” said the Chief. “ But in order to refresh your memory I may as well inform you that the dia- monds and pearls were taken from the second-story front room of Mrs. Willieboy de Sykes’s residence, num- ber umpty-nine Fifth Avenue, on the night of August the tenth, between nine and ten o'clock. Here he poured a bottle of castor oil down the victim's throat. “Hold on, hold on!” cried the prisoner. “Now that I think of it, I guess maybe I was up around. there that night, just about that time—b— b—but I didn’t have anything to do with any crime—” The stove’s red-hot, Chie the Sergeant. “Good,” said the Chief. we'll get down to busines: you may sit down there on said “Now Prisoner, that stove —" “What—me?” gasped the prisoner. “On that stove?” “Sure!” said the Chief. “Only keep cool. Don’t get excited, or you may say something you will regret.” “But I can’t sit down on a red-hot stove!” roared the prisoner. “Oh, very well,” said the Chief. * Of course if you insist upon confess- ing standing up—' “But I don’t!” retorted the pris- oner. “I've nothing to confess.” “All right,” said the Chief, turning away. “I'm sure I’ve warned you not to. You can just sit down there on the stove until I can have you trans- ferred to the Strong Arm Squad, who have never yet failed to get the truth out of anybody. Jimmie, the prisoner prefers sitting down. You and Bill may escort him to the cozy-corner.” No, no, no!" cried the prisoner, as the officers seized him by the shoulders and began hustling him toward the stove. “I can’t sit down there—I can't sit down there—I—I'll confess! I did it! I took the jewels——" “Be very careful, prisoner,” put in the kindly Chief. “ You know I have tried to protect you and warn you of your right: “Well, then,” sobbed the prisoner, seizing the ray of hope, “I swear by all that is holy I never——” “What?” roared the Chief, leveling x-shooter at the prisoner’s head. “I—I— w—w—was going to say, Chief,” stammered the prisoner, “that 1 never meant to steal those things, but I am a sleep-walker, and after I had climbed up into that second-story window in my sleep, I waked up, and saw those pearls, and rubies ——” “Diamonds, you mean,” interrupted a comicbookee yt