The next evening, when Ingham returned to his lodgings, he found Mrs.

Sanford in a sad plight; one eye was wholly closed and discolored, while

her whole face was bruised and inflamed to such an extent as to make her

an unpleasant object to look at. Charlie Stokes, the policeman, was

sitting by the stove, and Mrs. Sanford, with her head done up in wet

towels, was moaning on the sofa. She explained that Mrs. Graves had been

there, and had seized her by the throat, beaten, scratched, and kicked

her until she was perfectly helpless from her injuries. Charlie, the

policeman, was trying to condole with her, but he was evidently out of

favor, for she finally told him to go out and not bother her any longer.

Ingham told her that she certainly ought to have Mrs. Graves arrested

and punished severely, and he petted her so nicely that she said he was

her best friend, and that she would do anything for him. He prepared a

dressing for her black eye, and got some supper for her, telling her

that on Monday--that day being Saturday--she ought to get out a warrant

for the arrest of Mrs. Graves.

"Why didn't you hit her with the poker?" he asked.

"I did pick it up," she replied, "but I was afraid to hit her for fear I

should kill her."

"Well, it would have served her just right, for she had no business to

attack you first."

"I know that; but if I had killed her, just think how awful it would be!

Why, her ghost would haunt me forever after. I don't want to be haunted.

I'm afraid now to go into the room where Trafton died, and I wouldn't go

in there alone after dark for fifty dollars."

Ingham comforted her all he could, but finally he said that he must go

out for a time, and he did not return until about ten o'clock. He then

went upstairs quietly, and went to bed. Two or three hours later, a

heavy, groaning sound was heard in the house. It was difficult to tell

exactly whence it came, but Ingham heard Mrs. Sanford spring up and open

her door. He did the same, and saw her listening at the half-open door.

The groans were not exactly like those of a person in distress, but they

resembled the efforts of some stage ghost in a blood-and-thunder drama.

Suddenly Mrs. Sanford stepped out, with her revolver in her hand, and

began to walk toward the hall. He instantly overtook her and asked her,

in a whisper, what she was going to do. She made a significant motion

with her revolver, and again stopped to listen. He then took the pistol

away from her, saying that the noise was probably due to some drunken

man who had got into the hall. He told her to go back to bed, and he

would investigate. Accordingly, he went into the hall, and soon Mrs.

Sanford heard him dragging a maudlin drunken fellow downstairs. This

affair had been arranged by me, in the hope of frightening Mrs. Sanford

into making some kind of a confession, but she was not so easily alarmed

as I had hoped. The door had been left open by Ingham on his return to

the house, and another detective had been sent to the top of the stairs

to make the groans. From the determined way in which she walked out,

with her pistol in readiness, it was evident that she would not have

hesitated to shoot the unfortunate ghost on sight.

The next day Ingham showed her a fine gold watch, which he said he had

snatched out of a man's pocket in a crowd. She wanted him to steal one

for her, and he promised to do so, if possible, though it was more

difficult to get a lady's watch. She then advised him to be careful to

see that there was no private mark on the watch, lest he should be

detected thereby. Then she asked whether the numbers on government bonds

were all different. He said that there were different series, which were

exactly alike except the letter, and he tried to explain the matter to

her, but she could not understand it. She also wanted to know whether

the bonds could be sold in a foreign country, and he told her yes; that

that was the best way to sell them, if there was anything wrong about

them. After some further conversation, she said she thought of going to

Canada soon, and perhaps she would like him to take charge of her rooms

while she was away.

CHAPTER III.

_The Dangerous Side of the Woman's Character.--Mr. Pinkerton makes a

new Move.--Robert A. Pinkerton as Adamson, the drunken, but

wealthy, Stranger.--A "funny" Game of Cards.--The drunken

Stranger has a violent Struggle to escape from Mrs. Sanford,

and is afterwards robbed--according to the Papers.--Detective

Ingham arrested, but very shortly liberated._

It has already been observed by the reader that, while Ingham had

learned nothing new about the fate of poor Trafton, he had obtained a

very excellent understanding of Mrs. Sanford's character. Her most

prominent characteristic was the love of money, and this passion seemed

to overpower all others. Her language and manners at times showed that

she had once been a member of good society, while her reading and

declamations from Shakespeare and other poets gave evidence of great

natural talents. Combined with her greed for money was a strong element

of sensuality, and though she usually granted her favors only where she

expected a large pecuniary reward, still, at times, she was apparently

as prodigal in that regard as if she had no care whatever for money.

Her mind was naturally powerful, and I had little hope of breaking down

her will; she would evidently show fight to the last, and all that I

could hope would be to learn enough secretly to insure her conviction

without her confession. She was as shrewd as if all her life had been

passed in evading the toils of the law; even in her sleep, or when

pretending to sleep, she would talk with great freedom; but, as she

never gave any intelligence of importance on such occasions, I put

little faith in the soundness of her sleep. In her readiness to assist

Ingham to hide his plunder, I saw the dangerous side of this woman's

nature strongly revealed. If she were so willing to act as an accomplice

in one crime, why not in another? As she had been so successful in her

encounter with Trafton, might she not be glad to carry out the same

scheme again? At least, there would be no harm in putting an opportunity

before her, and her actions in one case might give some clue to those by

which she had succeeded in the former affair.

"Yes, that will be a good plan," I soliloquized; "I will send a young

fellow there with a large sum of money, and he will get drunk. Then, if

she tries to rob him, I shall be certain that she did the same with

young Trafton."

I therefore arranged that Ingham should pretend that he had made the

acquaintance of a stranger from the East, who had a large sum of money;

he was to tell Mrs. Sanford that he would bring the stranger to her

rooms to spend the evening; the stranger would be rather drunk when he

arrived there, and they would give him more liquor, until he should be

quite drunk; if she should then try to rob him, he would get away as

well as possible, and Ingham would go after him. In a little while,

Ingham would return and show her a package of bonds, stolen from the

stranger, and tell her that he had knocked the man down with a brick,

before robbing him. The next morning a notice would appear in the papers

to the effect that a stranger had been found in the burnt district,

lying on the ground in an insensible condition, having been knocked down

and robbed.

Ingham was instructed as to his part in the affair, and next day he told

Mrs. Sanford that there was a young fellow down town whose acquaintance

he had made, who had a large amount of money with him. Ingham said that

the man's name was Adamson, and that he was a gambler in good luck. He

wanted to bring Adamson to the house that evening, and she was very

anxious that he should come.

I intrusted the stranger's part to my son, Robert A. Pinkerton, who

assumed the name of Adamson for the occasion.

Accordingly, the two detectives met at my office, and Adamson was given

five hundred dollars in fifty dollar bonds. They then went to Mrs.

Sanford's house, and, on arriving there, Mr. Adamson was quite unsteady

on his legs. Mrs. Sanford was nicely dressed to receive the stranger,

and she made herself very agreeable to him, in spite of his apparent

drunkenness. They played cards together for a time, and then Adamson

proposed to play euchre with Ingham seven points for five dollars a

game. While they were playing, Adamson became quite reckless, and he

threw down his cards with such a look of drunken gravity as to be quite

amusing. He lost almost every game, and, at length, he wanted to go out

for a drink. Mrs. Sanford told him to go on with his game, and she would

get what he wished.

"What do you want to drink?" she asked.

"Anything excep' warrer," he replied.

"What do you know about water?" asked Ingham; "I don't believe you can

tell how it looks."

"Tha's a lie. I know how to tell warrer's well's you. I (hic) can allus

tell warrer--it looks jus' like gin. Get us some gin."

While Mrs. Sanford was gone, Ingham and Adamson arranged that the latter

should pretend to have lost all his money to the former, and that he

should insist upon playing one game for fifty dollars. This he was to

lose, and he was to become angry and go away. Adamson then gave Ingham

about fifty dollars to show as his winnings, and presently Mrs. Sanford

came in. She had been introduced to Adamson under the assumed name of

Mrs. Robertson, and he therefore addressed her by that name.

[Illustration: "_I'll play you a (hic) game f'r fiffy doll's!_"]

"Mrs. Rob'son, 'f you'd come sooner (hic), you'd ha' seen th' funniest

game 't ever was played. Never 'ad such bad luck 'n m' life, an' now

I've los' all m' money. Gimme big (hic) drink of gin."

Mrs. Sanford poured him a glass half full, and also poured a little into

two other glasses. When she turned her head, Ingham emptied the contents

of his glass into the coal-scuttle, exchanged glasses with Adamson, and

emptied his drink into the same place. When they stood up to drink, Mrs.

Sanford was the only one who really did so, the two men merely going

through the motions, with great apparent satisfaction. Adamson then

became more and more excited.

"Tell you, Miss'r Hang'em, or whatever y'r name is, I'll play you a

(hic) game f'r fiffy dolls; can beat you 't euchre any day th' week.

Wha' you say? Wan' to play?"

"No, I don't want to play for so much, but I'll play you for twenty-five

dollars."

"Fiffy or nothin'. Come, now; 'f you're 'fraid to play, say so. I c'n

play like a steam-whissle, I can."

"I'll play you for twenty-five," replied Ingham, irresolutely.

"No, sir; I won't (hic) play'ny more small games. You've won more'n

fiffy doll'rs fr'm me now, 'n I wan' m' revenge. You goin' ter gimme a

(hic) chance t'win it back?"

"All right," said Ingham; "I'll play you just one game for fifty

dollars, and then we'll stop, no matter who wins. Just wait a minute,

until I go to my room for a handkerchief."

While he was gone, Adamson pulled out a package of ten United States

bonds, of the denomination of fifty dollars each, and said that he would

put up one of them against Ingham's fifty dollars, and that he should

send the rest to his mother. When Ingham returned, he counted out fifty

dollars, and Adamson laid down one of his bonds.

"What's that?" asked Ingham. "Is that worth fifty dollars?" and picking

it up, he examined it carefully.

"Yes'r; tha's worth more'n fiffy doll'rs; tha's worth fiffy doll'rs in

gold."

"Will you guarantee that it is good and all right?" asked Ingham.

"Course I will; didn't you ever see a (hic) bond b'fore?"

"Oh! I know that's all right," said Mrs. Sanford, who was beginning to

show the effect of the gin very strongly; "I've had bon's like that,

too. Th' young man who died here had eighteen thousan' bonds like this."

"Well, all right," said Ingham; "let us cut for deal."

As the game progressed, Mrs. Sanford felt the strength of the gin more

and more, and she soon became quite sick. Ingham got her some warm

water, and she went into her own room to vomit. She soon returned,

feeling much better, and the game went on, Ingham winning by one point.

Adamson then became very angry, and said he was going out; and, although

the others begged him to stay, he put on his overcoat and insisted on

going away. Ingham finally said that he didn't care whether Adamson went

or stayed, and, so saying, he walked off to his own room. Mrs. Sanford

used every argument to induce Adamson to stay all night, but, with a

drunken man's obstinacy, he refused to remain any longer. He walked

downstairs, with Mrs. Sanford clinging to him and coaxing him all the

way, until they reached the lower landing, when she put her back against

the door and refused to let him out. They then had a violent struggle,

in the course of which she tore open his coat and vest in the endeavor

to get at the bonds in his breast pocket. Finally, he was obliged to use

all his force to get away, as she was like a tigress in her anger, and

was evidently determined to rob him. Indeed, had he not been an active,

muscular young man, she would, undoubtedly, have finished him then and

there; as it was, he barely succeeded in making his escape, by forcing

her back upon the stairs, and then springing out of the door before she

could seize him again.

Meantime, Ingham was a silent spectator of this scene from the top of

the stairs, where he stood holding the lamp. As soon as Adamson was out,

Ingham rushed down and told Mrs. Sanford that he intended to have those

bonds anyhow. He told her to sit up for him, and then ran out after

Adamson. In less than an hour, he returned and saw Mrs. Sanford watching

for him from a front window. When he went upstairs, she was still

somewhat under the influence of the liquor she had drank, but she asked

him where he had been.

"That's all right," he replied, flipping over the ends of the package of

bonds; "I guess I've made a good enough haul this time."

"Oh! you are a splendid fellow," she said, leaning on his shoulder. "I

didn't think you would dare to do it."

"I dare to do anything where there is any money to be made. You won't go

back on me, will you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, that you won't give me away to the police?" he asked,

anxiously.

"Why, of course I won't," she replied. "I never yet went back on any one

who did the fair thing by me; and I know you will do that, won't you?"

"Oh! certainly I will; I will make you a nice present to-morrow."

"I don't want a present to-morrow," she said, sullenly; "I want my share

now."

"But I shall have to cash these bonds first," he said. "They would be of

no use to you in their present shape."

"I can get them cashed as well as you can," she replied. "Come, hand

over; I don't want half, but I want my share now."

"What is your hurry?" he demanded. "Can't you wait until to-morrow?"

"No, I can't; I want my share, and if you are going to be mean, I will

be mean too. You can't keep those bonds unless I say so, and if I choose

to report you, I can have them all taken from you, besides sending you

to Joliet."

"Oh! if that's the way you talk," replied Ingham, "I shall know what to

do. If you can't trust me until to-morrow, I can't trust you at all. You

can't scare me by threats, and if you want to get any of this money, you

must deal fairly with me; I'm not afraid of being arrested."

"All right, then," she answered, with a wicked look in her eye; "we'll

see whether you will 'come down' or not. If you want to keep it all, I

shall take care that you don't keep any of it. I'm going to the police

station at once."

She was, evidently, just ugly enough to do as she said; and, as Ingham

had the bonds in his possession, he did not fancy the idea of letting

her go for the officers just then; so he replied:

"You can go right along, if you want to, but, in that case, I shall go

somewhere else."

He then quickly brought his hat and overcoat into the sitting-room; and,

seeing that she was still making preparations to go out, he took a

hurried departure, taking a room at a small hotel for the night.

In the Chicago _Tribune_ of January 14, 1872, the following item

appeared:

"HIGHWAY ROBBERY.

"At about twelve o'clock last night, an officer of Pinkerton's

Preventive Police stumbled over the body of a man near the corner

of State and Washington streets. Stooping down, he discovered that

the man was half drunk, half insensible, bruised and bleeding. On

being restored to his senses, he gave his name as Robert Adamson,

stating that he had come from Troy, New York, having with him

several hundred dollars in currency and bonds. The time between

drinks was very short yesterday afternoon, and he has no clear idea

of what happened after dark, up to the time the officer found him

minus his money and valuables. He remembers drinking frequently

with a stranger, who made himself very agreeable, but cannot state

the time when they parted company. He describes the stranger as a

tall slender man, with black side-whiskers, giving a sufficiently

minute description of him to afford the police a valuable clue, and

it is likely that the highwayman will soon be overhauled."

About noon of the day that the above was published, Ingham went to call

upon Mrs. Sanford, and she received him very coolly.

"How do you feel this morning?" he asked. "Does your head ache?"

"No, I feel all right," she replied. "Have you seen that fellow that was

here last night?"

"No, I have not seen him," he replied. "Why do you ask? Has he been here

looking for me?"

"Yes, he came here this morning, and asked me all kinds of questions

about you; and now, if you are arrested, it will be your own fault. I

would have shielded you, if you had done the fair thing by me; but now

you must look out for yourself."

"You are very unreasonable, Mrs. Sanford," he replied; "it would have

been very dangerous to have left any of those bonds with you, for if the

man had brought the police here, they would have searched the house, and

would have found the bonds. Then you would have been arrested, and you

would have been obliged to tell where you got the bonds. Now, as soon as

I get the bonds cashed, I will treat you handsomely, but I do not intend

to run any risks."

"There would have been no danger of their finding the bonds, if you had

left them with me; and, even if they had found them, I never would have

told where I got them. You might have been fair enough to give me one

hundred dollars at least."

"He did not have any money besides what I won from him, except the

bonds; and, as I said before, I did not dare to leave those in the

house."

"I am sorry I ever let you into my house," she said, presently. "I

thought a great deal of you, and I expected to assist you when I

received my money; but now I have lost confidence in you. I suppose, if

you got a chance at my money, you would take that too. I begin to think

I know where my watch went; the detective wanted to search you for it

two or three times, but I wouldn't let him, and this is the way you

reward my confidence."

"Mrs. Sanford, you are talking wild," he answered, angrily. "I have

always treated you well, and when I made a raise the other day, I gave

you a part of it. I intended to do the same this time, but you acted so

suspiciously that I thought best to wait awhile. Now, as soon as I get

these bonds cashed, I will give you some more money, but not till then."

"You can keep your old money," she retorted; "I don't want any of it.

You think you were very smart, yesterday, but you don't know what danger

you are in. I could have you arrested this very day if I chose."

"I know you could; but what good would it do you? I should be punished,

to be sure, but you would not get a cent; while, if you keep quiet, I

will make you a fine present."

"I don't want your present, nor you either," she replied. "I don't want

you in my house any longer." Then, as Ingham started toward his room,

she said: "Keep out of there; you can't go into that room, for I've let

it to a young couple, who are in there now."

"All right, then," replied Ingham; "I will call again to-morrow."

"You needn't take things so mighty cool," she replied, perfectly white

with anger. "You may find yourself in jail before you know it."

"I know it," he answered, carelessly; "but it's my nature to take things

cool, and so, if you want to put me in jail, you can; but you can't

scare me a bit, and you may as well understand it first as last."

The following morning, I received from Mr. Trafton, who was then in

Philadelphia, the numbers of the bonds which were missing. They were

five-twenty bonds of the issue of 1865, numbers 57,109 and 87,656,

series A, and number 37,515, series B. Information of the robbery had

been sent to the Treasury Department at Washington, and to all the

sub-treasurers in the United States, in order that, in case any of the

interest coupons should be presented for payment, they might be traced

back, possibly, to the hands of the thief.

In _The Tribune_ of Monday appeared the following item:

"BEATEN AND ROBBED.

"A MAN TAKES A WALK WITH A COMPARATIVE STRANGER, AND IS KNOCKED DOWN

AND ROBBED OF NEARLY $1,000 IN GREENBACKS.

"Mention was made in yesterday's TRIBUNE of the finding of a man,

named Robert Adamson, on the corner of State and Washington

streets, he having been beaten and robbed of several hundred

dollars in greenbacks. The police were looking for him yesterday,

but failed to find him. It was ascertained that he had been

boarding at No. 92 West Madison street, and that, on Saturday

night, he indulged in several games of euchre with a man who also

boarded at the place. While the game was in progress, and Adamson

was under the influence of liquor, he displayed an express

company's envelope full of money. At the conclusion of the game,

the two men went out to 'take a walk.' Yesterday morning, Adamson's

companion returned to the house, and, it is said, offered the

landlady $500 if she would say nothing about his having played

cards with Adamson. She refused, and would not allow the fellow to

take his trunk away, which he wanted to do very badly. The landlady

sent her little daughter to police headquarters for an officer, and

one was sent over to arrest the man; but he had left previous to

the officer's arrival. It is not known how much money Adamson had,

but it must have been in the neighborhood of $1,000, or the man who

took it would not have made such a munificent offer to have the

fact of the theft kept secret."

In accordance with my instructions, Ingham went to Mrs. Sanford's house

about noon on Monday. He told her that he had read in the paper that she

had reported him to the police as being the assailant of Robert Adamson.

She denied ever having done so, and offered to swear that she had never

betrayed him. He replied that he felt sure there must be a mistake, as

he could not believe it possible that she would betray him. He felt

perfect confidence in her, and had no fears that she would try to have

him arrested.

"Besides," he continued, "I don't care now whether they arrest me or

not. I'm not afraid of being held, for I am generally shrewd enough to

cover my tracks pretty thoroughly, if I have a start of two or three

days."

"You can't prove that you didn't rob that man," she replied.

"I don't need to; all the proof must come from the other side, and they

haven't any witnesses who can swear that I did the robbery."

"I could prove it, if I choose to go against you," she said.

"No, you couldn't," he replied. "You didn't see me; and, while your

testimony would, perhaps, be circumstantial evidence, your oath would be

no better than mine, as you have no one to swear to the same thing."

"Oh! I have great credit up at the station," she said, in a boasting

manner. "They recollect the finding of eighteen thousand dollars under

the pillow of the young man who died here, and they have all confidence

in me, for they know I might have easily stolen all he had. But I think

it is best never to do anything wrong, and then there is no fear of

getting into trouble."

"That's all right, if you can do it," he replied; "but I must have a

living, and if I can't get it one way, I will another."

Just then some one knocked at the door, and presently Charlie Stokes,

the policeman, walked in. They talked together a few minutes, and then

Stokes said:

"Step this way a moment, Mr. Ingham, I wish to speak to you alone."

They walked to the head of the stairs, and Ingham then asked what he

wished to talk about.

"Well, there seems to be some kind of a misunderstanding at the police

station," said Stokes, keeping his eyes on the ground, "and they have

sent me to ask you to walk around to the office."

"A misunderstanding about what?" asked Ingham. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know all about it," continued Stokes, in the same mysterious

way.

"I beg your pardon; I don't know what you have reference to; please

explain."

"Oh! you know well enough. You are wanted on account of that man you

robbed last Saturday night."

"I did not rob any man Saturday night, and I am surprised that you

should make such a charge against me, knowing me as well as you do,"

said Ingham, in an injured tone.

"I have nothing to do with it," replied Stokes. "I am simply obeying the

captain's order, and I have no personal feeling against you whatever;

but I have been sent to take you down to the station, and I must obey

orders."

"Then you arrest me?" inquired Ingham.

"Well, you must go to the station with me to see the captain."

"Not unless you arrest me," replied Ingham. "I want to know whether I am

to consider myself under arrest."

"Yes, you can consider yourself arrested, if you want to," replied

Stokes, who did not seem to like to take the responsibility of making

the arrest under the circumstances.

"I don't want to, and I shan't, unless you say so," persisted Ingham.

"Well, then, I _do_ say so, and we will go now. We can walk along

together like two friends, however, and no one need know that you are my

prisoner."

"I don't care who knows it," said Ingham; "but I think there is

something strange in the way of arresting me."

"Well, I hope you will come out all right," Stokes replied, adding

significantly, "and perhaps you will, if certain folks don't appear

against you."

"I'm not afraid," replied Ingham; "there is no one who can say anything

against me."

On arriving at the station, the same consideration was shown to him, and

the station-keeper asked him to make himself comfortable in the main

sitting-room.

"Am I under arrest?" he asked again.

"No, not exactly; you can take it easy for a time, and you will have an

examination soon."

"If I am not under arrest," Ingham replied, "I shall not stay here."

"Why not?" asked the station-keeper.

"Because I have no business here unless I am a prisoner," was Ingham's

reply.

"We can lock you up in a cell, if we want to," said the station-keeper;

"but we thought you would prefer to be comfortable up here."

"Then I _am_ a prisoner?" again inquired Ingham, who seemed anxious to

have his status satisfactorily explained.

"Yes, confound it; if you are determined to have it so, you are."

About five o'clock the sergeant of police came in, and asked Ingham his

name.

"Ingham," was the reply.

"Jack Ingham?"

"No; John Ingham."

"What is your business?" asked the sergeant.

"I'm not employed at all, just now."

"Have you ever had any work to do in this city?" again queried the

sergeant.

"No; not yet."

"Who was that man you were playing cards with the other night?"

"What night?" asked Ingham.

"Well, Saturday night."

"Whereabouts?"

"At your boarding place."

"Oh! I play cards with a great many fellows," Ingham replied. "I don't

know which one you mean."

"Well, we know who he was," said the sergeant.

"Then what are you asking me for?" said Ingham. "Am I under arrest?"

"I guess you will have to stay here awhile," was the sergeant's reply.

Presently a number of persons came into the room, and Ingham thought he

saw among them one of the bindery girls who had formerly lodged with

Mrs. Sanford. She looked at him very hard, and then went out into the

hall, where he could hear her talking with the station-keeper and

Stokes. He also heard the sergeant call a policeman and give him some

instructions, in which Ingham caught the words, "Pinkerton's office."

The man then put on his coat and went out. Presently the sergeant

approached him again, and, looking at him significantly, said:

"Now we know all about your playing cards with that man, and afterward

robbing him."

"I don't know what you mean," Ingham replied; "I don't know what man you

are talking about."

"Didn't you see that piece in the paper yesterday?" asked the sergeant.

"I saw a number of pieces in the paper yesterday, but I can't tell which

one you are referring to."

The sergeant then showed him the item headed "Highway Robbery," and

said:

"Now, we can prove that you came back to your landlady with a large

package of money, and offered her five hundred dollars to keep quiet

about the fact of your having played cards with this young fellow, and

then having followed him out."

"Well, if you can prove that, you had better do it," said Ingham; then,

changing his tone, and looking straight in the sergeant's face, he

added: "Now, look here, sergeant, if you have any charges against me,

just state them."

The sergeant muttered something about locking him up, and started to go

out.

"If you lock me up," replied Ingham, coolly, "I hope you are prepared to

take the consequences."

"Who the devil are you, anyhow?" asked the sergeant.

"No relation of yours, I assure you," was the reply, and the sergeant

went away.

At this time, a tall, dignified man came in and asked the station-keeper

a question. The policeman replied that there was no such man there.

"I know better than that," said the stranger, "and I must see him."

The station-keeper declared positively that they had no such man, and

the stranger then went upstairs. In a few minutes the sergeant came in

and told Ingham to follow him. As they were going upstairs, they met the

tall stranger coming down. Ingham felt confident that this man was

looking for him, and, in passing, he pinched the stranger's leg. The

pinch was returned, and the tall man stopped; but Ingham and the

sergeant went up to the captain's room. After asking Ingham his name,

the captain said:

"Where were you last Saturday night?"

"That is none of your business," said Ingham.

"Come, now, you needn't put on any airs," said the captain; "I want to

know all about this."

"Captain," Ingham replied, "if you have any charges against me, I should

like to hear them. I don't put on any airs, but I want to know what I am

under arrest for."

Turning to the sergeant, the captain said:

"How long would it take you to bring that man on here, sergeant?"

"Three or four days, at least," was the answer.

Just then the tall stranger entered, and the captain took him into a

private room, where they remained some time. When they came out, the

sergeant joined the captain for a few minutes, while the tall gentleman

introduced himself to Ingham as Judge B----, and said that the captain

would let him go. This proved true, for the captain very soon came out,

and told Ingham that he was at liberty.

CHAPTER IV.

_Connecting Links.--Mrs. Sanford's Ability as an Imitator of

Actors.--One Detective tears himself away from her, and

another takes his Place.--Mrs. Sanford's mind frequently

burdened with the Subject of Murder.--New Evidence

appearing.--A Peep at the stolen Bonds.--The Shrewdness of the

Murderess._

Ingham did not return to Mrs. Sanford's until late in the evening of the

day of his arrest. On arriving there, he was admitted by Charlie Stokes,

the policeman, who seemed very much surprised to see him. Mrs. Sanford

was also quite astonished, and turned very pale on seeing him. However,

they soon began talking in a very friendly way, expressing their regret

at his arrest and their pleasure at his release. Charlie did not remain

long, and after he was gone Mrs. Sanford made all kinds of inquiries as

to the manner of his escape.

"Why, Mrs. Sanford," he replied, "I told you they couldn't hold me.

There was absolutely no evidence against me, and they were afraid to

even lock me up. I have been ten years in this business, in New Orleans

and elsewhere, and I have never been caught yet. The only thing which

puzzles me, is to account for my being arrested at all!"

"You don't suspect that I had any hand in it, I hope?" asked Mrs.

Sanford.

"Oh, no indeed! I trust you perfectly; but I think that one of those

bindery girls may have seen me with Adamson on the street. One of them

came into the station while I was there, and looked at me very hard, as

if trying to identify me. Still, I don't see how she could have

suspected anything, unless some one put her up to it."

"Perhaps some bartender may have seen you drinking with him during the

afternoon," she suggested, "and he may have described you to the

police."

"Well, I should like to know who it was," he said, savagely, "for I

would shoot him like a dog."

As Mrs. Sanford had rented Ingham's room, there was no place for him to

stay, and he went away about midnight, telling her that he would return

next day. He did not go there, however, until after dark, as he felt

confident that the police would try to "shadow" him. He found Mrs.

Sanford quite uneasy about him, as she thought he had been arrested

again. He invited her to go to the theatre, and, on their way home, they

stopped at a restaurant to get a late supper. As there were no

accommodations for him, he was obliged to go to a hotel for the night,

but Mrs. Sanford promised to have a bed put into the unfurnished room

for him the next day. The next afternoon he called again, and Mrs.

Sanford said that Charlie had been there, and had told her all about

their visit to the theatre the night before. She said that he knew

exactly where they had been, what they had had for supper, and what

they had paid. Ingham was thus made aware that he was being watched, and

his position, therefore, became very embarrassing.

"Oh! by the way," she exclaimed, suddenly, "did I tell you that I got

back my watch?"

"No; how did you recover it?" he asked.

"Well, that man Graves had it, and I had to pay one hundred dollars to

get it back."

"That was a great shame," said Ingham, sympathetically, as if he fully

believed her.

"Yes, I got my watch and several other trinkets, which I had all

together in one box. See, here they are," she said, producing a box.

Ingham looked at them with great interest, and, among the old

sleeve-buttons, odd earrings, and other broken pieces of jewelry, he saw

two gold shirt studs, one diamond-shaped, and the other star-shaped.

This was a small matter, but it was one of the connecting links,

nevertheless, in the chain of evidence against her; for, from the

description, I felt sure that these were young Trafton's missing studs.

Ingham spent the evening with her, and she was very friendly indeed,

seeming anxious to remove any suspicion he might have that she was

responsible for his arrest. She had made no arrangements for him to

sleep there, however, and so he went to a small hotel for the night.

When he reported at my office the following day, I gave him four hundred

dollars in money, and told him to show it to Mrs. Sanford as the

proceeds of the sale of the stolen bonds. Accordingly, when he went

there in the afternoon, he counted over a large pile of bills before her

astonished eyes, and asked her if he didn't know how to make things pay

well.

"Why, where did you get all that money?" she asked.

"I sold those bonds which I showed you the other night," he replied. "I

tell you, it isn't every man who knows how to dispose of property when

it falls into his hands."

"Now you will be flush for a long time, won't you?" she said, in her

most amiable manner. "What are you going to do with all that?"

"Oh! I shall have to divide with my partner first," he replied.

"Did you have a partner in this affair?" she asked. "You did not tell me

about him."

"Oh! yes; I had the same partner as in the other case," Ingham replied.

"He held Adamson, and I struck him with a brick. However, here is a

present before I go, May," he continued, tossing two ten-dollar notes

into her lap. "I will give you some more in a day or two."

Mrs. Sanford was very much gratified, and said that she cared more for

him than for any one else, and he could depend upon her for anything.

Ingham then left her, and came to my office to return the money. In the

evening he took Mrs. Sanford and Miss Ida Musgrove to the theatre, and

the latter, evidently having heard of his improved fortunes, treated him

with great cordiality. They returned to the rooms of Miss Ida after the

theatre was out, and Mrs. Sanford gave some fine imitations of different

actors and actresses, in a way which showed great powers of mimicry, as

well as considerable dramatic force. It was very late when Ingham and

Mrs. Sanford got home, and they immediately went to bed.

The next day, Ingham went away as usual, and stayed until nearly dark.

When he saw Mrs. Sanford, he professed to be in a very sulky mood, and

said that he had been gambling all day.

"At first I won right along, and I was nearly two thousand dollars ahead

at one time; but the cursed luck changed, and I began to lose every bet;

so that, when I left, I had only ten dollars in my pocket out of all

that money I got for the bonds."

Ingham could not control his feelings as he thought of his loss, and he

swore and raved like a crazy man. Mrs. Sanford was very much

disappointed, also, but she did not say much, except that he ought to

have known better than to gamble. There were two or three new lodgers

coming in and out while he was there, so that he did not have much time

to talk to her, and he went away early in the evening.

Owing to the arrest of Ingham, and his quarrel with Mrs. Sanford, I had

decided to relieve him from this operation, and to put another man in

his place. His story about gambling was a part of my plan; and the next

day, when he called upon her, he was under instructions to announce his

intended departure from the city. Accordingly, he did so, giving as a

reason the fact that he had lost all his money, and that the police were

watching him so closely that he was afraid to attempt another robbery in

Chicago. He told her that he was going to St. Louis, and that he should

come to see her immediately, if he ever should return.

She appeared very much distressed at the thought of losing him, and told

him that when she got her money, she would let him have as much as he

wanted. She made him promise to write to her, and when he went away, she

cried with seemingly genuine sorrow.

Three days later Mrs. Sanford received a visit from a gentleman who said

he wished to rent a furnished room. Mrs. Sanford seemed to like his

appearance, and she offered him the small back room at a low rent.

Having decided to take it, he told her that his name was Henry C.

Morton, recently from England.

"Oh! I am so glad you are from the old country," said Mrs. Sanford, "as

I am from Edinboro' myself, and my father is Lord Chief Justice of the

courts there. He is very rich, and has treated me very liberally since I

left my husband; why, only last week, he sent me three thousand

dollars."

Just then a Mr. Bruce, the owner of the furniture store below, came in,

looking rather tipsy. Mrs. Sanford introduced the two men, and Mr. Bruce

said something about being an Irishman.

"Why, what a strange coincidence," said Mr. Morton. "Here are three

persons, each representing one of the three kingdoms of Great Britain.

If I had some one to send for some ale, we would drink a toast to

Britannia, God bless her!"

After talking together for some time, Mrs. Sanford and Mr. Morton went

into the sitting-room, and Mr. Bruce went down to his store. Then Morton

said that he had left his valise at the Stock Yards, and that he would

go for it at once. On his return, he found two rough-looking men at the

door trying to get in, but the bell would not ring, and so Morton went

away for half an hour, leaving the men knocking and kicking on the door.

About eight o'clock, he came back and found the door open. He went

upstairs and entered the sitting-room. Mrs. Sanford was full of

apologies for having locked him out, but she said that she had had

trouble with one of her boarders, and she had resolved to keep him out

of the house. While they were talking, the two men whom Morton had seen

at the door came in, and a quarrel immediately sprang up between Mrs.

Sanford and the younger of the two. In a short time, they both became

furiously angry, and they used the most bitterly opprobrious language

toward each other. Finally, Mrs. Sanford, who was ironing, rushed at the

young man with a flatiron in her hand, and she would undoubtedly have

seriously injured him if he had not escaped into his own room at the

head of the stairs. She then laid a heavy poker on the table beside her,

and said that she would mash his skull if he came near her again. In a

short time, he again reentered the room, when, seizing the poker, she

rushed at him like a fury. He succeeded in avoiding her until Morton and

the other man induced her to give up the poker; and both the strangers

then went away, saying that they should be back at eleven o'clock.

After their departure, Mrs. Sanford dropped into a chair and cried for a

time, saying that she never had acted so before in her life, as no one

had ever treated her so shamefully. Then she became loquacious and

confidential, telling Morton the old story of her father being Lord

Chief Justice of Scotland, and her husband a wealthy man in Buffalo. She

recited the reasons she had for leaving her husband, and said that her

father first sent her one hundred and fifty dollars after the

separation, but that she thought so small a sum was an insult, and so

she sent it back. She added that he had promised her three thousand

dollars very soon, and that she expected to receive it in a week or two.

From this subject, she drifted to the story of young Trafton's death,

which she told with great minuteness. She said that when she found he

was dead, she fainted away, and did not recover for nearly two hours.

While she was running on in her story, a loud noise was heard, and she

explained to Morton that Mr. Bruce had been drinking all day, until he

was afraid to go home, and that now he was quite drunk in her room. She

said that he had been very kind to her in letting her have furniture on

credit, and so she wanted to make him comfortable until he was sobered

off. During the evening she recited a number of selections from Byron,

Scott, and Longfellow, and even gave several parts from Shakespeare's

plays with great force and beauty of elocution. She also talked a great

deal about Jack Ingham, a former lodger in her rooms, and she seemed to

have a very high opinion of him. She said that he was obliged to leave

town because the police were after him about something he had done,

adding, that she didn't care for that, however, and she would never go

back on a friend, but would shield him for anything except murder. It

was after two o'clock in the morning before they retired, and as she had

not fitted up Morton's room properly, she made a bed for him on the

lounge in the sitting-room. As Mr. Bruce was lying dead-drunk on her

bed, she was obliged to sleep on the floor of her room.

About four o'clock Morton was awakened by Mrs. Sanford, who said that

she could not sleep in her room, as Bruce snored so loudly, just as

Stanley Trafton did the night he died.

"Oh! it is horrible to think of," she said, shuddering. "I shall go

crazy if I stay in there any longer."

She then lay down on the table and covered herself with a bedspread she

had brought from her own room. About six o'clock they were awakened by

a loud noise at the outer door, and Mrs. Sanford said that those drunken

loafers had come back again. She immediately got up, took a revolver

from her room, and went down to the door, where she told the men to go

away, as she would not admit them at that time of night. While she was

talking Bruce began moving around, and he found his way into the hall.

Then Morton heard a great crash, as if some one had fallen downstairs,

followed by a call from Mrs. Sanford, in tragic tones, for him to come

and help her. Morton went out and found that Bruce had fallen from the

top to the foot of the stairs, and on going down he discovered the

unfortunate representative of the Emerald Isle lying in a heap against

the front door. The two men outside had evidently been scared away by

the noise, and they did not return until eight o'clock. Bruce was not

hurt, except a cut on his hand, which Morton bound up, and then quiet

reigned again until after daylight. About nine o'clock Morton went in to

see Bruce, whom he found sitting up in bed. Bruce said that his money

was gone, and that Mrs. Sanford had drugged him the night before to

enable her to steal it. Morton called Mrs. Sanford, and asked where

Bruce's money was. She said she had put it away for safe keeping, and,

lifting the mattress, she took out two pocket-books and a box containing

her watch, trinkets, etc. Having given Bruce his pocket-book, she went

out, and he then counted his money. He said he ought to have eighty-one

dollars, but that she had helped herself to ten dollars; it was not

worth while making a fuss about it, but he said that he knew she had

drugged him.

After awhile, Mr. Graves came in, and had a private interview with Mrs.

Sanford. She seemed afraid of him, while he acted as if he had some hold

upon her. When they came into the sitting-room, where Bruce and Morton

were talking together, Mrs. Sanford asked Graves to lend her a dollar,

but he refused.

"Pshaw! I don't want it," she replied. "I only asked to see whether

you'd lend it, as I have quite enough of my own;" and, so saying, she

took out her pocket-book.

Morton saw her count out nine ten-dollar bills and nine one-dollar

bills. From the fact that she showed just ninety-nine dollars,

it was probable that she had only recently changed one of the

one-hundred-dollar bills taken from young Trafton. She then opened

another compartment, and took out two pieces of folded paper, of a

creamy tint, apparently about the size of two sheets of foolscap. They

were folded several times, and were crammed in pretty tight.

"Do you know what those are?" she asked.

"No, I do not," he replied; "what are they?"

She merely laughed, and closed the pocket-book, whispering that she

didn't want Graves and Bruce to see her money. She said she did not wish

to be left alone with Graves, for fear he should rob her; so Morton

asked him to go out and play a game of billiards. Bruce was in a great

state of anxiety, lest his wife should have come down to the store to

see where he had spent the night, and he remained with Mrs. Sanford.

Morton did not return to Mrs. Sanford's until late in the evening, and

he found her dressing to go to a ball. She insisted that he should go,

offering to pay all the expenses. He pretended to be very much hurt at

her suggestion, saying that he never would permit any lady to pay

anything when he took her out. She was dressed very tastefully, and

presented a very stylish appearance, so that she attracted a good deal

of attention at the ball. Before going, she sent Morton to a drug store

for a drachm of morphine, saying that she must have it, as she used it

constantly.

The next morning, they did not get up until a late hour, and Mrs.

Sanford said that she did not feel very well. While talking together,

they drifted into a discussion about money. Morton, like a genuine John

Bull, maintaining there was no safety except in gold, or Bank of England

notes.

"But we don't have either in this country," said Mrs. Sanford; "and now,

suppose you had a large sum of money, what would you do with it?"

"That's just what I would like to know," he replied. "I expect to

receive one hundred pounds from England very soon, and I don't know

where to keep it."

"Well, I shall put my three thousand dollars into bonds," she said.

"They can be registered, so that no one can use them except the rightful

owner, and the interest is payable in gold."

"I don't know anything about bonds," said Morton, "especially these

American bonds, which sometimes depreciate very fast."

"Oh! the bonds of the United States are good anywhere," she replied,

"and they will sell for their face in England or Canada just as well as

here. They are the best securities there are. I have some now, and I

intend to get some more."

While talking, Morton picked up a card which was in her work-basket, and

saw that it was an advertisement of a gift concert or lottery. She

noticed it, and said that it had been left there by a man named Druen,

who used to come to see her. She said that he had stolen a

five-hundred-dollar bond from her, however, and he had never been there

since. Soon afterward she went to sleep again, and did not awake until

evening, as she was very tired from the effects of the ball. Morton

remained in the house all day; and, when she woke up, he got supper for

her. She seemed very much pleased at his thoughtfulness, and said that

she never had had any one so kind to her since she left her husband.

"I want you to go to the bank with me some day," she said, "as I want to

draw the interest on some of my coupons, and then you will see what good

securities American bonds are."

"I shall be very glad to go with you," said Morton; "for, if they are

really good securities, I will invest some money in them."

"Oh! there is nothing better," she replied, "and I will show you mine."

She then took out the pocket-book she had shown him before, and unfolded

one of the pieces of paper. Morton saw that it was a five-hundred-dollar

bond, of the issue of 1865, payable in 1885, with about twenty or thirty

coupons attached. He was so surprised and excited at seeing the bond,

that he could hardly tell what to do, and so he failed to notice the

most important point--the number. By the time she had opened the other

bond, however, he had his wits a little more under command, and he was

able to remember that the figures of the number were five, seven, one,

zero, and some other figure; but he could not recollect positively the

order in which they came.

"You can go to the bank to-morrow and get the coupons cashed for me,

can't you?" she asked, after putting away the bonds.

"Oh! certainly, if you wish me to do so," he replied.

Then she laughed, and said:

"You would be arrested if you should take these bonds to the bank."

"How so?" he asked, apparently in great surprise. "Why should I be

arrested?"

"Because the bonds belong to me, and you would have to give an account

of the way in which you obtained them."

"Oh! well," he replied, "you could give me an order, and that would make

it all right."

"Yes, I suppose so," she said, carelessly.

Her object, evidently, was to make Morton believe that it would not do

for him to attempt to steal the bonds; for, though she trusted him to

the extent of showing him her money and valuables, she was eternally

suspicious and careful.

Of course, on receiving Morton's report, I felt quite confident that the

two bonds he had seen were a part of those taken from young Trafton.

Still, I had no positive proof of their identity, and, in accordance

with my invariable custom, I took no hasty step, being confident that my

detective would soon elicit all the facts. I wrote to Mr. Richard S.

Trafton, however, suggesting that he have himself appointed

administrator of his son's estate, so that he could begin proceedings

instantly, the moment I was ready.

Several days passed, during which Morton gained Mrs. Sanford's

confidence more and more. She was anxious one evening that he should rob

Mr. Bruce, who came in half drunk; but Morton told her that he never

worked that way.

"Why, Jack Ingham would have killed a man to get money out of him," said

Mrs. Sanford. "Jack wasn't afraid to do anything for money."

"Well, that isn't my style," said Morton, contemptuously. "Do you

suppose I am going to have a scuffle and struggle, ending perhaps in

murder, when I can make ten times as much by a little skillful work

with my pen? I don't want the police to be snuffing 'round my heels on

account of highway robbery and such small game; when _I_ do anything to

set them after me, it will be for a big stake, and even if they catch

me, they will be mighty glad to compromise. Oh! no; not any little jobs

for me; it is only the big rascals who can work safely."

Morton succeeded in inducing her to leave Bruce alone, though she had

evidently meant to drug him, for she took a glass of beer, which she had

poured out for him, and threw it into the sink. They all drank

considerable beer, however, during the evening, and Mrs. Sanford, having

taken also a large dose of morphine, became nearly insensible. On seeing

her condition, Morton and another lodger thought they had better put her

to bed; but as Bruce was in a drunken stupor in her room, Morton

determined to try the effect of putting her into the room where young

Trafton had died. No sooner had they laid her on the bed, however,

before she sprang up, gazed around an instant, and then rushed shrieking

from the room, saying that she dare not lie there, and that she had seen

"him" lying beside her. She was then placed on the lounge in the

sitting-room, where she became quite hysterical. Morton sat beside her,

and soothed her until she became quiet, and about midnight she fell

asleep.

Morton said to me, on making one of his reports, that she would often

determine to give up morphine and liquor, and live more respectably.

Then she would become excited from the craving for the drug, and would

take a dose, which would soothe her, make her amiable, and give her

energy enough to do anything; gradually she would become wild again, and

would be almost unbearable, while the maddening effect lasted,

especially if she took any liquor to add to her temper; finally, the

influence would pass off, leaving her weak, despondent, and stupidly

affectionate. I saw that she was not likely to confess anything to any

one, and I therefore decided to bring the affair to a crisis without

delay.

CHAPTER V.

_A moneyed young Texan becomes one of Mrs. Sanford's Lodgers.--The

Bonds are seen, and their Numbers taken by the

Detectives.--Mrs. Sanford Arrested.--Sudden and Shrewd Defense

by the Prisoner.--She is found guilty of "Involuntary

Manslaughter" and sentenced to the Illinois Penitentiary for

five years.--Misdirected Philanthropy, and its Reward.--Mr.

Pinkerton's Theory of the Manner in which Trafton was

Murdered._

Having discussed my plan with my superintendent, Mr. F. Warner, I sent

for one of my youngest men, named Thomas Barlow, and gave him explicit

instructions as to the course which he was to pursue in connection with

Mrs. Sanford.

On the first day of February, therefore, a young fellow called at Mrs.

Sanford's about five o'clock in the afternoon, and asked if she had any

rooms to rent. She was very civil to him, and offered him the room at

the head of the stairs, for three dollars a week. While she was showing

him the rooms, she asked him a number of questions about himself; and as

he was a smooth-faced, innocent-looking young man, he told her all about

his affairs. He said that his name was Thomas Barlow, from Texas, where

his father was a great cattle-raiser; he had brought several hundred

head of cattle to the city, and had sold them at a high price; he

intended staying in Chicago for a short time, and then he should go up

the Red River of the North, in the early spring, to do some fur trading,

as he believed there was a good deal of money to be made up there, by

any one with sufficient capital; he intended to have a good time in

Chicago first, however.

As soon as Mrs. Sanford learned that he had money with him, she became

very affectionate indeed, telling him that she would make him more

comfortable than he could be anywhere else, and that she would treat him

like a prince. She introduced Morton as her brother, and said that they

would all go to the theatre together. At first, Barlow refused, but she

insisted so urgently, that he finally consented to go. He went away for

an hour to get his valise, and when he returned, Mrs. Sanford was

dressed in her most stylish clothes, as if determined to make the best

possible impression upon him. He was very good-natured and boyish,

apparently believing all she told him, and laughing at all her attempts

to be funny. After leaving the theatre, she learned that one of her old

acquaintances was to have a "grand opening" in a new saloon, and she was

obstinately determined to find the place. After walking about for an

hour, she called a hackman, and offered him five dollars to find this

new saloon, where she was anxious to take a drink, as she said, "for

good luck and old acquaintance' sake." After driving about until

midnight, she learned that the opening was postponed, and they then went

to a restaurant near her house to get supper. It was two o'clock before

they went to bed, but before going, Mrs. Sanford learned that Barlow was

to receive his pay for the cattle in a check for over four thousand

dollars. She talked with him about the risk of carrying money around on

the person, and told him that he ought to buy bonds, as then they would

not be lost even if they should be stolen. He agreed with her, and said

that he would try to buy some bonds when he got his check cashed.

The next morning they took breakfast with Mrs. Sanford, as she seemed

anxious to keep Barlow with her as much as possible. It was noticeable

that she did not, as she had usually done in all previous instances,

tell him anything about young Trafton, who had died in her house, "with

eighteen thousand dollars in bonds in his boots." She told Barlow that

she had some bonds, and he would do well to get the same kind.

"I don't know much about them," he replied, "but if _you_ think they are

good, I guess they are good enough for me. What are they like? I never

saw any."

"I will show you mine," said Mrs. Sanford. "I am going to sell one of

them soon, as my lease is up at the end of the month, and I want to buy

a house."

She then went into her bedroom, closed the door, and remained several

minutes. When she came out, she had a fat pocket-book in her hand, and

she took from it the two pieces of folded paper which she had shown to

Morton. On opening them, she spread them out, and both Barlow and Morton

saw the numbers plainly, as they looked over her shoulder.

"There, these little tickets are coupons," she explained to Barlow; "and

every six months I can get fifteen dollars in gold by cutting off one

from each bond."

"Did you say you wanted to sell one?" asked Morton. "If you do, perhaps

you might sell it to Mr. Barlow, as a sample of the kind he wants to

get."

"Yes, that would be a good idea," said Barlow; "then they can't fool me

with any other kind, when I go to buy."

"Well, I guess I will do it," said Mrs. Sanford; "at any rate, you can

see me about it before you go to buy yours."

She then put the bonds into the pocket-book again and went into her

bedroom. On her return, Barlow told her that he must go down town to

get paid for his cattle, and he asked Morton to go with him.

Accordingly, the two men went out about noon, but Mrs. Sanford called

Morton back a moment to tell him to stay with Barlow all day.

"Don't you lose sight of him for a minute," she said; "and bring him

back here with all his money."

They did not return until after four o'clock, and Barlow told her that

he had been obliged to go to the stockyards to get paid. He then went to

his room for a few minutes, and Mrs. Sanford asked Morton whether Barlow

had his money with him.

"Yes, they gave him a check for the amount, but it was too late to get

it cashed, and he will have to wait until to-morrow."

"Couldn't we get it away from him and forge his name to it?" she asked.

"We could get it cashed the first thing in the morning."

"It would be too risky," he replied, "as they probably know him at the

bank, and we should be arrested at once. But you can offer to go with

him to the bank in the morning, and he is so soft that you will not have

much trouble in getting a large sum out of him."

During the evening, Mrs. Sanford was very affectionate toward Barlow,

and she learned all about him. He told his story in such a way, that she

believed him to be an innocent country boy from Texas, whose most

dangerous experiences had hitherto consisted of hairbreath 'scapes from

steer and bull. He showed her a check on the First National Bank for

about four thousand dollars, and told her that when he got it cashed in

the morning, he would give her a nice present. It was then agreed that

she should go to the bank with him next day. The evening was spent in

reading aloud and singing, and they all retired much earlier than usual.

When Morton and Barlow left Mrs. Sanford at noon, they had, of course,

come to my office to report their discovery of the stolen bonds. There

was now no possibility of a mistake, as they had seen the two bonds of

the series A, numbered 57,109 and 87,656. I therefore instructed Mr.

Warner to obtain a warrant for her arrest, and a search warrant for her

house, both to be served the next morning before the hour appointed for

going to the bank with Barlow. Everything was prepared in advance, a

trustworthy constable was obtained to make the arrest, and a telegram

was sent to Mr. R. S. Trafton in Cleveland, asking him to come to

Chicago immediately. A reply was received the next morning, stating that

he had left by the evening train.

About eleven o'clock on Saturday, February 3, Mr. Warner and the

constable arrived at Mrs. Sanford's rooms. On knocking at the door of

the sitting-room, they were admitted by Morton, who asked what they

wanted.

"I would like to engage rooms, if there are any to rent," said Mr.

Warner.

"I will speak to the landlady," said Morton, going to the door of her

room.

"Tell the gentleman to call again," said Mrs. Sanford; "I am not

dressed, and can't see him."

"I only wish to see her a few minutes," Mr. Warner replied, addressing

Morton in a tone loud enough to be heard by Mrs. Sanford, whose door was

slightly ajar.

"Well, I can't see the gentleman until this afternoon," she replied.

"I have some important business, and I must attend to it now," answered

Mr. Warner, putting his foot in the opening and pushing the door in with

his shoulder; then he continued, addressing the constable, "This is Mrs.

Sanford, and you can arrest her now."

The constable immediately took charge of her, and she was allowed to

complete her toilet, though Mr. Warner first searched her dress, before

letting her put it on. He then made a careful search of the bedroom,

during the progress of which Mrs. Sanford was very noisy and

troublesome, crying, and pretending to go into hysterics several times.

Once, when Mr. Warner was looking very carefully through her trunk, she

said to him, in very tragic tones:

"By the way you act, one would think you were looking for a murdered

man."

"Well, perhaps if we had come a little sooner, we might have found one,"

he replied, quickly, giving her a sharp glance.

As nothing had been said to her or to any one else about any charge

except that of larceny, this remark was highly significant; and, on her

trial, it undoubtedly had great weight with the jury.

Mr. Warner soon found the pocket-book containing the bonds under the

mattress of her bed, and after examining them sufficiently to identify

them, he gave them to the constable. Mrs. Sanford was then taken to my

office, and, as Mr. Trafton had arrived from Cleveland, we tried to have

an interview with her relative to young Trafton's death. She was too

crafty, however, and she pretended to go into hysterics whenever we

began to question her.

Meantime, Morton and Barlow had accompanied her, and Morton offered to

get her a lawyer to advise her. She was very grateful to him, and said

he was her only friend. He soon brought in a lawyer well versed in

defending criminals, and the whole party then went to the justice's

courtroom. At the close of the examination, she was held to await the

action of the Grand Jury, and, in default of two thousand dollars bail,

she was sent to the county jail. She told Morton that her lawyer could

not half lie, and that she should not pay him a cent. She stood up, when

the justice's decision was announced, and made quite a speech; and the

native cunning of the woman was never more clearly shown than in this

plea, which was undoubtedly invented on the spur of the moment. She

claimed that young Trafton had given her the bonds to support her child,

whose father he was, and she spoke with so much vigor and cunning that

many persons believed her statement to be true. Thus, without

consultation or legal advice, she invented in a moment the strongest

possible defense against the charge of larceny,--the charge of murder

had not then been brought.

When she was removed to the jail, she gave Morton the keys to her rooms,

telling him to take charge of everything there, and to find a purchaser

for her furniture. He therefore informed two young men who were lodging

there that Mrs. Sanford had been arrested, and that they must find other

rooms, as he intended to sell out the furniture. After they had gone he

cleaned up the house, packed Mrs. Sanford's trunks, and made everything

look as well as possible. While she was awaiting trial, he visited her

every day and gave her various delicacies to improve the prison fare.

One day he pretended to have pawned his overcoat for five dollars, in

order to get her some lemons, tea, and sugar. She was very much touched,

and she gave him five dollars to get back his coat; but this action was

due to a momentary impulse. She had plenty of money, and was able to get

anything she wanted; but her desire to hold fast to her money was

greater than her wish for good food. Indeed, she came near jeopardizing

her cause by refusing to pay the lawyer she had engaged, but finally she

gave him a retaining fee of fifty dollars.

She was very anxious to learn who were the detectives employed in

working up the case, and she said that she believed Barlow had had

something to do with her arrest. Morton agreed with her, and, as the

papers had said that there were three engaged in the case, he suggested

that perhaps the two men whom she had turned out of doors were also

detectives. She never suspected either Ingham or Morton for a moment;

and when Ingham called upon her in jail, she was delighted to see him.

She tried to get bail from the two brothers, named Pratt, who had

occupied one of her rooms, as one of them had been very intimate with

her; but they were afraid of getting mixed up in her difficulties, and

so refused to help her obtain bail. She also asked Ingham to swear to a

number of falsehoods about her intimacy with Trafton, and when he

refused to do so, for fear of being tried for perjury, she said that she

could get "her Billy" to swear to anything. This "Billy" proved to be

one William Simpson, a barkeeper, and her former paramour. He was

tracked for some time by my detectives, but he suddenly disappeared, and

was not seen again until her trial for larceny, when, just as she said,

he was willing to swear to anything. He then disappeared again, but I

did not take much interest in following him up, as I knew that he would

not dare to repeat his perjury when the murder trial should take place.

His testimony was to the effect that he had overheard a conversation

between Mrs. Sanford and young Trafton, in which the latter acknowledged

that he was the father of Mrs. Sanford's child, having been intimate

with her in Buffalo about eighteen months before. The question of a

support for the child was discussed between them, and Trafton said that

he would give her fifteen hundred or two thousand dollars in bonds, to

enable her to bring up his child in comfort. The witness also testified

that Trafton and Mrs. Sanford were very intimate with each other, often

occupying the same room together; that Mrs. Sanford often spoke of her

former intimacy with him; and that he inferred from their conversation

that Trafton had been the cause of her separation from her husband. This

testimony was very skillfully manufactured and artistically developed,

so as to make Trafton appear in the light of a libertine and profligate,

and Mrs. Sanford as a confiding wife, led astray by the wiles of a

treacherous man. In spite of the bad character and appearance of this

fellow Simpson, his testimony had enough weight with some of the jury to

cause a disagreement, and Mrs. Sanford was remanded to jail.

Mr. Robert S. Trafton was anxious to bring her to punishment, as he felt

confident that she had caused the death of his son. The circumstances of

the case caused considerable delay, and it was not until January 27,

1873, nearly a year after her arrest, that the trial on the charge of

murder took place.

The testimony in this trial was highly interesting on many accounts. The

County Physician, who had made the first post-mortem examination of the

remains, and who had given congestion of the lungs as the cause of

death, stated that he found the deceased lying dead in Mrs. Sanford's

rooms, and that he took charge of the property found in his possession.

He stated that he should have made a closer examination if he had not

found the bonds and money; but he did not suspect foul play, and

therefore made only a hasty investigation.

By the testimony of two or three witnesses it was shown that on the

night of Trafton's death Mrs. Sanford went into two saloons about

midnight, asking for "her Billy," meaning the man Simpson, by whose

testimony she escaped conviction on the larceny charge, he being then

living on her bounty. While looking for him she was very wild and

excited, her clothes being disordered, and her watch-chain broken. To

one witness she said that she wished Billy to come to her house to look

at the "prettiest corpse she ever saw." One witness testified that she

returned to his saloon about five or six o'clock in the morning, and

induced him to go up to her rooms to look at the body; he did so, and

found the body of a man lying in bed, partly covered up. She had a large

roll of money and papers in her pocket-book.

A surgeon of the highest reputation in Cleveland was called, and gave

his testimony in the most direct and convincing manner, like a man who

knew perfectly well what he was talking about, and who was not guessing

at any of the facts as stated by him. He declared that death resulted

from the blow on the right side, aided by the violence on the throat and

neck. There was very slight congestion of the brain and of the lungs,

but he was positive that death was not the result of either of these;

indeed, leaving out of consideration the marks of external violence, he

said that he should not have been able to account for Mr. Trafton's

death. At the conclusion of his re-direct examination he said that death

could be caused by a heavy blow of the fist, followed by choking, and he

would swear positively that Trafton's death was produced by violence.

The testimony of this witness was corroborated by that of several other

surgeons of high reputation, and then a sensation was created by the

calling of John Ingham for the prosecution.

As Mrs. Sanford saw her well-beloved friend, Jack, take the stand and

acknowledge himself to be one of Pinkerton's dreaded detectives, she

broke down and cried bitterly. Ingham related the history of his

connection with the affair, stating the different stories which Mrs.

Sanford had told about Trafton's death, and also her fear of going in

the room where he died. He then gave the inside history of his arrest

for the alleged robbery of Adamson, showing that it had been planned in

advance by me to induce Mrs. Sanford to give him her confidence. After

her arrest for larceny, he had visited her in jail, and she had tried to

get him to swear that he had heard Trafton promise to give her the bonds

to support her child. When he objected, on the ground that he might be

arrested for perjury, she had told him that "her Billy," meaning William

Simpson, would swear to it anyhow.

The testimony of Mr. Warner relative to finding the bonds in Mrs.

Sanford's possession was corroborated by that of the constable; they

also repeated Mrs. Sanford's remark made during the search, before any

charge of murder had even been suggested: "By the way you act, I should

think you were looking for a murdered man."

When the testimony for the prosecution was all in, the defense had a

turn, and they produced as many medical experts to prove that Trafton

did not die of violence, as the other side had to prove that he did not

die a natural death; indeed, from the medical testimony given, there

might have been grave doubts raised as to whether he had any business to

die at all, for, according to both sides, no adequate cause of death had

been discovered. Several witnesses testified that they believed him to

have been on a long spree just before his death, but these were soon

rebutted by equally trustworthy witnesses for the prosecution.

In summing up, the counsel for the people presented a highly plausible

theory of the manner in which the murder was committed, and asked a

verdict on the following grounds:

Young Trafton, as shown by the testimony of his father and others,

visited Chicago to buy grain, and he was, therefore, under the necessity

of carrying with him a large amount of money. Being unable to get a

room at any hotel convenient to business, he probably entered the first

place where he saw the sign, "Rooms to Rent," and engaged a

sleeping-room, taking his meals at a hotel near by. While lodging with

Mrs. Sanford, he was trying to buy grain at a paying figure, and he was

daily in consultation with Captain Dalton, who commanded one of his

father's schooners. Finding that he could not buy to any advantage in

the existing condition of the grain market, he sent the schooner back to

Cleveland on the last day of November, in order that she should not be

caught in the ice in the straits at the close of navigation. He was then

ready to return himself, and, doubtless, on going to his lodgings, he so

informed Mrs. Sanford. As he had made no secret of his reason for

visiting Chicago, she was, probably, well aware of his object, and also

of the fact that he had a large amount of money with him. Seeing his

careless ways, the idea occurred to her to rob him, and, having his

expected departure in view, she knew that she would have only one more

opportunity to carry out her scheme.

On his return that evening, therefore, having just parted from Captain

Dalton in perfect health and sobriety, he was invited to eat supper with

her. Suspecting no harm, he sat down and ate a hearty supper. In some

way, either in his food or drink, a dose of morphine was given to him,

and he soon fell fast asleep. The woman's opportunity was before her,

and all the natural thirst for money which characterized her came upon

her with full force, urging her on and inciting her to any lengths

necessary to accomplish her object. Having laid him on his bed, she

began to search his pockets with the stealthy touch of a practiced hand.

Finding nothing at first to reward her search, she pulled off one of his

boots and discovered the United States bonds, which he had concealed

there. But the violence necessary to remove the boot caused him to

partly waken from his drugged sleep, and he became vaguely aware that

some one was trying to rob him. Still in a drowsy, confused state,

however, he was unable to do more than to sit up and clutch wildly at

his assailant; having caught one of the bonds, he clung to it until it

was torn in two pieces, the fragments plainly showing how they had been

wrenched asunder in the clasp of two determined hands--those of the

murderess and her victim. But she soon found that he was gaining his

senses too rapidly, and that she would be foiled in her attempted

robbery; hence, with every blinding passion aroused, her greed and her

fear equally inciting her to action, she struck him a heavy blow on the

thigh and another more powerful one on the side. Partly stunned by the

concussion, he fell back, and she then seized him by the throat. Her

round, plump hands, though powerful enough to strangle him, left only

slight marks of abrasion on the skin, and in a few minutes all was over.

His property was at her mercy, and she gave no thought to the body of

her victim until she had seized every piece of valuable paper in his

possession.

But her position was a dangerous one, and, on cooling off somewhat, she

saw that something must be done to remove any appearance of foul play.

How could it be done most effectually? Manifestly by giving no apparent

ground for suspecting that she had any object in his death; and no

course would be more effectual than to leave such an amount of property

in his possession as to make strangers believe that none of it had been

taken. It may well be imagined that this was her hardest task; for to

give up money was probably a greater hardship for her than for some

people to give up life. Still, it would never do to run the risk of

being accused of murder; so, reluctantly, she placed one bond in his

pocket, and, by accident, included with it one-half of the torn bond,

the other half being placed under his head, in the boot from which it

was taken. She then undressed the body, placed it naturally in bed, and

went out to look for "her Billy," her paramour and panderer in vice.

This was the history of the crime, as pictured by the prosecution; and

all her actions since that fatal night had been in harmony with such a

theory. Her allegations of intimacy with young Trafton were unsupported,

save by the testimony of this William Simpson, her paramour. It was

noticeable that, while this man had testified in the trial for larceny

that he had overheard Mr. Trafton's acknowledgment of being the father

of Mrs. Sanford's child, in the murder trial he was not asked to give

any such testimony, nor was the existence of such a child even hinted at

by the defense. The counsel for Mrs. Sanford were well aware that she

had never had a child, and that this fact could be proven if necessary.

On discovering, too, that Jack Ingham was a Pinkerton detective, instead

of Mrs. Sanford's best friend, they saw other reasons why it would not

be advisable to cause Mr. William Simpson to perjure himself again.

The defense contented themselves with claiming that there was no

sufficient evidence to prove that Mr. Trafton had died a violent death

at all, and that there was no evidence whatever to show that, even if

foul play had occurred, Mrs. Sanford had been the guilty person. This

plea was ably presented by the counsel, and the judge then briefly

charged the jury as to the law, and the form of their verdict. During

the early part of the trial, Mrs. Sanford behaved very badly, often

contradicting witnesses aloud, and making many audible remarks to the

jury and the Court; after the testimony for the defense began, however,

she paid very little attention to the proceedings, often dozing and

sleeping in her chair. This habit was, undoubtedly, due to the use of

morphine, of which she consumed large quantities.

The jury retired at three o'clock, and, on the first ballot, they stood

nine for conviction and three for acquittal. After discussing the

testimony for more than four hours, a compromise was reached, and the

judge having been informed that the jury had agreed upon a verdict, the

prisoner was brought in to hear the finding.

All being in readiness, the clerk read the verdict as follows:

"We, the jury, find the defendant guilty of involuntary manslaughter,

and fix her time of imprisonment at five years in the penitentiary."

At the word "guilty," Mrs. Sanford gave a violent start; but, as the

remainder of the finding was read, she seemed to feel agreeably

surprised. She asked for a glass of water in a low tone, turned very

white, and then fainted away before the water could be handed to her.

She was then removed to the jail to await the argument on a motion for a

new trial. While there, she gave one of the most effectual evidences of

her ruling passion--greed. She was the object of considerable sympathy

among a certain class of sentimentalists, and the amount of compassion

wasted upon her was remarkable to those who knew her real character and

habits; but there is no accounting for tastes, and so Mrs. Sanford was

treated with great consideration by a number of well-meaning but

unsophisticated people. Among the Good Samaritans who took the most

interest in her was a lady named Mrs. Jones, and this lady visited her

quite frequently in her cell, bringing her books and papers.

One morning, Mrs. Jones complained of feeling unwell, and Mrs. Sanford

immediately gave her a glass of water. Soon after drinking it, Mrs.

Jones became very sleepy, and in a few minutes, she was in a sound

slumber. This effect had been produced, of course, by a dose of morphine

in the water, and Mrs. Sanford then proceeded to rob Mrs. Jones of all

her valuables. Mrs. Jones was in moderate circumstances, and her purse

was not sufficiently well filled to satisfy Mrs. Sanford's avaricious

demon; hence, she made a thorough search for other plunder. It happened

that Mrs. Jones, having lost all of her upper teeth, had supplied their

place by an artificial set, mounted on a plate of solid gold. Not

content, therefore, with plundering her benefactress in other respects,

Mrs. Sanford actually took the set of teeth from Mrs. Jones's mouth, and

hid them in her own trunk.

Of course, on awakening, Mrs. Jones missed her teeth and charged Mrs.

Sanford with having taken them. The latter denied having done so, railed

and swore at Mrs. Jones, and tried to prevent the officers from

searching the cell. The teeth and other articles stolen from Mrs. Jones

were found at the bottom of Mrs. Sanford's trunk, and Mrs. Jones retired

from the jail strongly impressed with the conviction that philanthropy

had its hardships as well as rewards.

The motion for a new trial being overruled, sentence was pronounced in

accordance with the verdict of the jury, and Mrs. Sanford was consigned

to the Illinois State Penitentiary at Joliet.

In regard to the manner in which young Trafton was murdered, I have

always had a theory of my own; and, while of course I do not pretend to

any surgical learning, I give it for what it is worth, prefacing it,

however, with the remark that several eminent physicians concur in my

opinion, or, at least, admit its strong probability.

It will be remembered that Mrs. Sanford used morphine continually, and

that she boasted of her ability to administer it in just the proper

proportion to cause her victims to fall into a heavy sleep. In all

probability, as suggested by the State's Attorney, she gave young

Trafton a dose at supper; but it is also possible the effect was not

sufficient, and that when she tried to rob him, he slightly revived,

struggled, and, seizing one of the bonds in a convulsive grasp, tore it

in two.

So far, the theories are identical, but I failed to see a sufficient

cause of death in the slight blow and mild choking, especially as the

lungs did not present the conditions which would have appeared had death

resulted from strangulation or asphyxia. On searching Mrs. Sanford's

rooms, Mr. Warner found two or three small syringes, intended for making

hypodermic injections, and these led me to believe she caused Trafton's

death by morphine alone. My idea was as follows:

When she found that Trafton was not sufficiently drugged to enable her

to rob him in safety, she probably let him alone, and the drug again

took effect to the extent of putting him to sleep. She then resorted to

a subcutaneous injection of morphine, knowing that the soporific

influence of the drug would thus be made more rapid and powerful. This

operation was performed on the side, and then near the large veins of

the leg, and thus were caused the apparent bruises filled with

extravasated blood. Now, the effect of morphine varies largely,

according to the constitution, temperament, and habits of the persons to

whom it is given; but the combined result of internal and external doses

almost invariably is death.

It seems altogether probable to me, therefore, that Trafton came to his

death in that manner, and that the traces of morphine in the wounds, as

in the stomach, had wholly evaporated before the Cleveland surgeons made

their examination, twelve days after death.

Whatever may have been the means, however, there can be no doubt that

murder most foul was committed, and that Mrs. Sanford richly deserved a

greater punishment than was awarded to her. Whether she had any

accomplice will never be known, but it is probable that she had some one

in the house who was aware of the murder after it had been committed, if

not before. This would account for the absence of the fifth bond, which

was never recovered, but which was afterward traced back from the

Treasury Department, when it was presented there, to some unknown woman,

who had sold it in Milwaukee. This woman was evidently not Mrs. Sanford,

but her identity could not be discovered, and, therefore, all trace was

lost.

THE END.

Transcriber's Notes:

Missing hyphenation at line breaks has been assumed, e.g. "necessary"

not "neces sary" on page 81. Hyphenation has been standardized, e.g.,

"bookkeeper", "cornfield", and "housewarming". Nonstandard spellings

have been maintained, e.g. "intrusted", "dryest", "smouldering",

"patroled", "tragical", "unnegotiable", "quartette", "gayety",

"indorsed", "reentered". Missing periods have been added at ends of

sentences. Other printers errors have been corrected as follows:

Page v - "unvail" replaced with "unveil" for internal consistency

Page 80 - "cousins" replaced with "Cousins"

Page 92 - "Harrington" replaced with "Farrington"

Page 104 - "insant" replaced with "instant"

Page 156 - "pleasantly" replaced with "pleasantry"

Page 160 - "to k" replaced with "took"

Page 202 - "out door" replaced with "outdoor"

Figure caption after page 166 - "Judges'" replaced with "Judge's"

Figure caption after page 203 - "Fete Champetre" replaced with "Fete

Champetre" for consistency

Page 212 - "Don Pedo" replaced with "Don Pedro"

Page 321 - "bfore" replaced with "before"

Page 361 - "hairbreath" replaced with "hairbreadth"