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plainclothesmen delegated to watch her
followed her to the subway, jumped a
train for 33rd Street and finally saw her
board a bus. Inquiries at the bus depot
indicated she’d bought a return ticket for
Westport, Connecticut, and that she'd
arrived there at 5 p.m. Quickly he re-

layed the news to Carey. ‘Fine,’ the
chief answered, “I'll get the Westport
police to tail her.”

It was nearly seven o’clock when Cap-
fain Carey with Donahue, Mattes, and a
squad of heavily-armed troopers roared
into Westport, picked up a local officer
and, following his direction, headed east-
ward till they came to a halt in a depres-
sion in the rear of an innocent-looking
farm house.

“Now, boys,” Carey’s face was grim,
“watch your step and keep your eyes
skinned. The man we're after is bad
medicine. He’s probably hopped up, and
ne'd shoot to kill at the drop of the hat.”

While troopers surrounded the build-
ng, drawing cover from hedge and rose
pushes, Carey sprinted for the kitchen
loor, followed closely by Donahue and
Mattes, each with drawn automatics.
Their knock was answered by a grey-
nearded caricature of Uncle Sam who
promptly, as his eyes fell on the drawn

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guns, opened his mouth to shout. Be-
fore he could utter a sound Carey slapped
his hand over his mouth and whispered
in his ear ‘for silence.

“That boarder of yours, the thin chap
—the one that red-headed girl in the
green dress called for this afternoon—
where is he? We're here to arrest him
for murder.” Carey whispered hoarsely.

The farmer’s: tongue clove to the roof
of his mouth and all he could do was
to motion upstairs with his thumb. “He’s
... he’s up there,” he finally stammered.

“Get back in that kitchen,’ warned
Carey, “and don’t make a sound or you'll
be riddled with bullets before you know
what's happened.”
CoMPLETED—THiIrRD MURDERER
CAPTURED

TALE

Holding their breath the officers tip-
toed up stairs that creaked so loudly it
seemed as though they’d awaken the dead.
Momentarily expecting the door above to
open and explode in an inferno of stab-
bing flames and flying lead they reached
the landing. While Carey and Mattes
covered the door Donahue knocked care-
fully.

“What do yer... ?” The door inched
open to be followed by an outburst of
mingled fear and anger and the splinter-
ing of wood as the officers crashed in.
Suddenly the quiet bedroom rocked to a
melee of struggling men, staccato reports
and tinkling glass as Daley, his wrist
caught in Donahue’s iron grip, vainly
attempted to turn the muzzle of his re-
volver on his captors. With a thud the
gun slumped on the floor. There followed
the metallic clink of handcuffs and Daley,

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Prince Rupert, B.C.

Pa ;
Commercial Hotel
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OTEL

writhing, biting, and vainly trying to twist
himself out of the officer’s grip, was
hustled past the still open-mouthed farmer
and dumped in the rear seat of the car.

Taken to Westport headquarters, and
told that Marino and Dave Maio had
ratted on him and accused him of the
street car murder, the scrawny, atten-
uated prisoner frothed at the mouth. “Ill
fix ’em. Ill fix those two-timing sons
Of Riztoeeess ,” he snarled. “If I’m to
fry for this theyll fry with me. I'll
fix ‘em—just watch my step.”

“So you admit you shot these men?”
Carey shot the question swiftly.

“You're damn right I shot ‘em,’ came
the scornful reply. “They asked for it
and I let °em have it. I told the conductor
to stop the car and he made a pass at us,
then the fat guy came for me and I
gave him a dose of lead.”

“And where,” demanded the Captain,
“does your friend Ollie Cheesecake fit
into the picture? He got you in this
mess anyway.”

“He's the guy,” hissed Daley, “you
should knock over. He planned the hold-
up, and said it was time we got out of the
small-time rackets and went into some-
thing big. We'd gone to him for some
snow but he held out on us till we said

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Second Ave., Opposite Prince Rupert Hotel

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PHONE 173

PRINCE RUPERT, B.C.

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Prince Rupert, British Columbia |

SEVENTEENTH EDITION

Page Eighty-three