Evening Star Newspaper, December 9, 1928, Page 106

For the_first time in_the history of the New York Police Department the coveted Medal of Homor has been twice to the same man. n Cordes. attached to S one of Rontir New' York police annals. ~Detective Cordes tells the story in the following account | | 1 STEPPED into the telephone booth | to call police headquarters. My I bell gave its usual—ping. Outside on Fourteenth street trucks, motor | cars and pedestrians streamed by. On | the sidewalk I could see my three com- | panions warming themselves in bright | sunlight of early May—my partner Walsh and two other detectives we had picked up on our round “Your brother is O. K."” T heard a man's voice say in a booth next to mine. “Get the money over as I told you” tone of guarded expression “Number, please.” The This in a familiar metallic singsong came through the re- | ceiver at my ear. Instinctively 1 suppressed the tell- tale Spring 3100 which was on my lips. shington Heights 2756.” I substi- tuted an imaginary call “You know you can raise the money,” #he voice from the other booth asserted with something likey menace. “Your brother has a lot of property in Chi- cago, and you can get the dough. You've got to.” “Hello!” a husky my_receiver. “That you, Mabel?" been a husband phoning his wife. “I've got your brother's Elks card” the voice from the other booth went on precisely. “I'm tearing it in two and mailing one-half you. The you're to hand o e money to will have the other half. “No, this is not Mabel,” indignation through my receiver The talk in the adjoining booth wa: done passing the door of my booth. After a discreet moment I stepped out. My man was standing at the cigar counter, a hulking big fellow. He had a volum inous black mustache, and one of his eyes was malformed and askew. Some infection seemed to have burned and twisted it. A villainous eye set in a villainous face. He was adressing an envelope. Then he took from his pocket a card, fore it in two and in- closed one-half. He left the store, went to a mail box on the corner, and dropped the envelope in it. “This guy’s up to some kind of crooked graft.” I was talking to my gang. “Let's look into the racket and see what's on his_mind.” We agreed that Walsh and I should tail him, while the other two detectives got the envelope from the mail box and inves- tigated at the address it gave. The man with the twisted eye walked west on Fourteenth street and turned into one of those-peep shows combined with a shpoting gallery. I sauntered in after hith. He picked up one of the small rifles and began to shoot as fast as he 1d pump. 1 watched fascinat- ed. A Metective is always interested in v and_turn it| baritone through 1 might have | man | T caught the flash of a figure [ () THE SUNDAY STAR. WASHINGTON., D: €. DECEMBER 9, 1928—PART T. Detective Jol‘m Cordes of the New York Police Department Stumbles Onto Spectacular Kidnaping Plot, Saves the Life of Two Who Are Doomed to Die, and Wins the Medal of Honor for the Second Time. nickel went rattling down, and the | MARCUS MADE THE ROUND OF A DRUG STORE. USING THE I THE TWO CIGAR STORES TELEPHONE IN EACH CASE. twisted eye knocked down | ut of 50 shots. | alll 1 to myself, and Walsh | sald, “Hell's bells,” - when later on I | told him, | KininE VER to Brooklyn, to a house on Westminster road. There our man lived. We could learn little about him [in the neighborhood, save that his | name was Joseph Marcus. In the rec- | ords at headquarters I found pictures of. [the ugly face with the diseased eye. | Circulars were out for Marcus. He was | the leader of 2 gang of kidnapers that had been operating in Western citics, a formidable villainous crew. Chicago had Marcus chalked up With the mur- | der of a peliceman. The envelope with the half of an Elks card 'in it had been recovered from the mail box. It bore the name of Scharlin and an address on River- side drive. There it was disclosed that the case was one of kidnaping and a fabulous ransom demanded. We had stumbled on one of the most ambitious and carefully planned and cunningly covered blackmail plots on record. Two nights previously James Taylor, in real estate and wealthy, had stepped out of his house on New York avenue in Brooklyn. A coming forward of two figures, the menace of automatics, and Taylor docilely entered a nearby automobile. A few minutes of riding. the marksmanship of crooks. The man and the captive, under the persuasion of the automatics, made a {clephone call. He spoke to his friend and partner, Abe Scharlin, who, if Taylor was wealthy, was far wealthier. Two fair girls, two lovely darlings, Taylor said he had them in tow. Wouldn't Schar- lin join him up for a glamorous eve- ning? He would. An appointment was made for a corner on Riverside drive. At the meeting place Scharlin stood waiting. A car drove up. A gun poked into Scharlin’s side and a second captive joined the first. was thrown over the head of each. The car went speeding for several hours. Then, with the pillowcases still over their heads, Scharlin and Taylor were led into a house. There they were kept continually hooded, like half-uni- formed Ku Kluxers. They had no idea where they were, save from the fact thai ‘they had ridden so long. During the night they heard dogs bark and in the morning chickens cackled. They surmised they were in the co=ntry. Scharlin: was made to write a letter to his family. in which he stated that he was held for $400,000 and Taylor for $70.000. If the $470,000 were not forth- coming the men would be killed, and if any complaint were made to the police their deaths would' be sealed at once, this latter in phrases of poignant warn- ing and entreaty. The Scharlin family set about trying to raise the money. They were wealthy, but $470,000 is a lot to get together in | had come from it to meet Marcus. That | A pillowease | negotiable form. They were afraid to call in the police. and terrorized. | napers, threats of dark against the lives of the prisoner: was specified how the money was to be paid. A certain well known under- world character, a big gambler and manager of prize fights, was to receive it. The matching of the halves of menace identification. It was this the .telephone communications that I had chanced to overhear. The plan of getting the money to the kidnapers was neat and well covered. With the underworld chieftain as a kind of third party we would have no evidence that would stand in court against him. If | we arrested him he would not talk, and | the prisoners would probably be taken | ogt to some secluded place and knocked off. 2 | * Kk ok ¢’THEY'RE slick,” I said to Waish, “but we hold the ace of trump: ‘The ace was the man with the twist- ed eye. We had no thought of arrest- ing him right there. Probably he would not talk, and the gang would kill the prisoners. But by keeping him under surveillance we could catch him con- tacting with his pals, follow the trail to the lair where Scharlin and Taylor were held, jump in, rescue them and grab the mob. Marcus might have been the most staid of stodgy ecitizens. Regular as clockwork he went out in the morning, | returned home before dark, and passed his evenings at home alone. Duri: the day he wandered around New York — with Walsh and I after him-—and patronized the telephone booths. He called only the Scharlin family, talked with them half a dozen times a day, frightening them with savage menaces against the captives. I contrived again and again to be in an adjoining booth, where I could hear what he said. He was full of misgivings and used every dodge to find out whether he was be- ing followed. We had to exert our ex- pert best to avoid exciting suspicion in him — shadowing is a subtle art. He mat nobody and, save for telephoning the Scharlins, was perfectly solitary. It was clear that he had arranged not to contact with his mob until some set time, which I guessed would be a critical time, He wanted to take no chance that any one perhaps tailing him might pick up'the trail to the kidnapers' lair. After four days of this the unexpect- ed happened. Marcus left his house after dark, at about 9 o'clock. He made a long trip to Fifty-fifth street and Fourteenth avenue, Brooklyn, and there on the corner a tall, powerful man was waiting, whose name we later learmed was Dave Burman. The man with the twisted eye had finally made a meet. We had no doubt that Bur- | man was a member of the gang. T place of the encounter, in a remote part of Brooklyn, was singular. I had | & suspicion that the lair was some- | where in this district and that Burman They were baffled | | ‘They got a succession of telephone | calls_from one of the gang of kid-| It | Scharlin’s Elks card would vouch for | part of | SCHARLIN AND TAYLOR, THE TWO KIDNAPED MEN, HOODED IN THEIR PILLOWCAS GLUM AND I =z Wy uu.q‘ looked good. Either or both, we were sure, would lead the way to the haunt. The two men talked for a few min- utes and then started off together. They went to Marcus' house and both re- mained in for the rest of the night. In the morning Marcus emerged alone, He had his heavy, black mus- tache shaved off. “There’ll be. something doing” I said to Walsh in vague anticipation. The shaving off of the mustache seemed a measure of disguisé, as if the man wanted to change his semblance at a time of crisis. Walsh and I tailed Mar- back he would not, be at one telephone long enough to bé caught. The elab- oration of precaution measured the im- portance of the message transmitted. | The burden was that this was the final day of grace. If the $470,000 were not | delivered by 6 o'clock the prisoners would be taken for a ride. ‘Then Marcus headed uptown. On Central Park West he doubled back in his tracks several times, trying to pick out anybody who might be following him. At Sixty-seventh_street a figure was waiting. It was Burman. Down the street was Daly tailing his man. cus and left another man, Daly by| The two crooks went into Central Park name, to pick up Burman when he came out. Marcus went over to New York anf at the corner of Twenty-third street and Sixth avenue executed a single maneuver. There you will find two cigar stores and a drug store, each on a corner. . Marcus made the round of the three, using the telephone in each case. The calls were to the Scharlin family. He had his say in piecemeal. His idea was that if a call were traced | and sat on the grass and talked. * dok Ok T was mid-afternoon. The hour for the deaths was drawing near. We were afraid that neither Marcus nor Burman would go to the lair, but would give orders over the telephone for the slaughter of the prisoners. In this emer- gent situation we needed instructions. Daly went to phone Inspector Coughlin. He was scarcely gone when Marcus and Burman started out of the park. Stories, Sports and OUT OF THE FOG A Story of Adventure in the Air BY W. BOY! Stan Mullen, assistant cashier of the Se- f which his father ship. e bank in Halesburg, the suffers an alarming run by depositors who want their money. Accompanied by Johnny, Stan flies to a city b counter bad_fos. y are over Halesburg. but cannot locate their fiving field, the only safe landing place in help Stan’ make a landing. piane inte the fog With his parachute. INSTALLMENT V. As the ’'chute carried him gently IT PASSED OVER THE BLAZING HANGAR, A\I.O., : ITS WINGS. CE MORGAN these, then threw the rest on the wall above it. He could still hear the roar of the plane’s motor as a match was touched to the soaked shavings. They splutter- ed and burst into a blaze. Hungry tongues of flame licked at the fluid on the walls of the hangar. In a few mo- ments it was a seething mass of fire, sending out light and dissipating the fog in the flood of hot air which it sent upward. Johnny, still gasping for breath, glued his eyes on the gray mist above the field. It seemed thinner than it had seemed from above. It was full daylight now, but it was a gray day. He gasped with alarm. He no longer SCORCHING downward, Johnny could hear the roar of the plane’s motor as it circled above him, but the fog kept him from seeing it. If he could only get to the hangar and light a fire before Stan ran out of gas! There was safety in his slow descent, but_he couldn’t help wishing that he would fall more rapidly. It seemed to be taking him hours to reach the earth and every second was burning up Stan's supply of gas. Then suddenly the mist thinned and he saw the ground close below him. Anxiously he peered about to get his bearings. Ah, there was the road to town, and he could see his home a few hundred yards away! There had been little wind and he had not drifted ar. He was fumbling at the harness of his ‘chute while he was still many feet from the carth a field and the big circle of white silk fluttered and collapsed. Jerking him- self loose he vaulted a fence to the road and ran as fast as his legs, stiff- | ened by hours in the plane, would carry him He could still hear Stan’s motor. He was evidently coming lower, waiting for his first opportunity to pierce the fog banks and land. Johnny, running at top speed, reached the gate to the Decker farm and rushed past the house. An automcbile was standing there and he saw Mr. Mullen. The banker uttered a cry of alarm when he saw the boy. “Stan’s up there!” cried Johnny, racing toward the little. flying field. “Fog—can't get down. I took *chute. He's almost out of gas. to light & beacon for him!” Mr, Mullen evidently grasped the sit- uation. and he raced after Johnny. Reaching the shed where the plane was kept Johnny picked up a can of gaso- line and hurried along the smooth stretch of pasture toward the half-com- pleted hangar. In one corner of it lay 8 pile of shavings and small wood. JHe deshed part of the can of gasoline on Got At last he landed in | the | heard the motor. Could Stan be out of gas, or had he, unable to see the beacon, taken the plane outside of town to crash? Then the motor roared | again—very close now, and Johnny mo- | tioned Mr. Mullen and a man with him to stand far back from the smooth | stretch of field. | Suddenly the plane appeared, gliding | slowly out of the fog, very low. It | | passed oversthe blazing hangar, almost | scorching its wings, The rubber tires lof its little wheels gently found the ‘dlm. and Stan brought it to a bounding stop. i “Yay!” yelled Johnny as he ran { toward the plane, the others after him. i Stan climbed from the pit and pulled { his goggles from a tired, strained face. “Great work, Johnny,” he said. ‘You | didn’t do it a minute too soon. I don't think there’s a quart of gas left in the ! tank.” Mr. Mullen was wringing his son’s | {hand. “When I could hear your motor and knew you couldn't land, I thought it was all over!” he cried. | " “It might have been, if it had not | been for Johnny,” Stan grinned. He | reached into the rear pit and lifted out the two little chests. “And here’s your | money. Are we in time?” “You are,” said Mr. Mullen. “We | | can_just about make the bank by 9.” | “And I can just about make school | }1f I run for it,” cried Johnny. “What?” gasped Stan. “You aren't | going to try to go to school after a night like this?” answered Johnny. “Ihave | " snapped Stan. “I'll see Mr. Hartley and fix it up. What you | want now is breakfast, and then sleep. And so do it. I think I can sleep for a month straight.” At that moment Mrs. Decker ap- matter of breakfast was taken care of immediately. As they entered the kitchen Johnny saw his father and two EARLY SHOPPING IN PUNKINVILLE. EMMET MISHLER'S SWOE PARLOUR PAULIE MOUNTD YooY BRUSHES _~ (= fasi R L ( ¢ SCOTY HARRODS IMPERIAL &ROCERY A A HABERD other men trying to extinguish the fire in the half-built hangar. “I surely hated to burn up our hangar, but it had to be,” said Johnny. “Yes,” said Stan. “And I have an idea that Dad and his bank will see that we get a new one, and one that you won't have to build yoursalf!” Stan was right about that. The cash which Johnny and Stan had obtained on their all-night fiight saved the day for the financial institution. When its doors opcned that morning a ecrcwd of worried depositors was clamoring for funds. But when they received them at the tellers’ windows without delay or question the panic soon wore: itself out. By noon they were return- ing and sheepishly redeposiiing the money that they had been so eager to get that morning and the day before. And the bank was properly grateful. ‘The little flying field has a real hangar now and & beacon all its own. And, as Johnny had predicted, and still insists, peared from the farmhouse and the | it's “just about the classiest little air- port in any town of this size, any- wherel” ‘ Bhe End. If you have ever been in the country for any length of time during the first warm spell of Spring weather you have probably heard the frogs “singing,” and possibly you have seen a rather slow and sluggish snake crawling about where the sun could reach him, or colled up and basking in some warm corner. And a week or so later you may have seen a turtle in a pond or river, perch- ed on a log in the sun or sprawled on !l]: mud at the edge of the water, where a few frantic scrambles would allow him to submerge and paddle away. Did you ever wonder where these creatures pass the Winter? All three of them hibernate all Winter and come out of their ‘sleep carly in the Spring, apparently none the worse for the six months’ lack of food, air and water. They all use food in the Summer. and, like everything that lives, they must have their share of air and water. Yet in the Fall the COMANCHO’S STORIES snakes find a hole in the ground and work themselves down through cracks and crevices until they are below the frost line, where they coil up and go to sleep until Spring, without eating or drinking and with only an occasional heart beat to prove that they are alive. The turtles sometimes crawl out on the bank in the Fall and “dig them- selves in” for the Winter, choosing a place where the soil is sandy or loose enough for them to dig in it with their claws. Then by a queer rotary-paddling combination of scratching and body motion they manage to cut the diri out from under themselves and work it up over their backs. In this manner they sink straight down into the earth to a point below the reach of frost and there they stay until warm Spring weather brings them up again, normal and ready to carry on as usual until the next Autumn, th Just as often, sturtles burrow themselves in by digg! straight down in the bottém of a pond or stream, for they hibernate in mud just as easily as in sand, and they do not breathe, eat or drink from the time they dig in until they dig out in the Spring. Yet they seem to be bothered not at all by the iack of food, air and water, although they need plenty of all these when they are awake during the Summer. The frogs dig down into the mud be- neath water so deep that it does not freeze, and come out in the Spring very soon after the frost is gone All of ‘these reptiles, and the alligators, lizards, toads and the rest of the family go through this hibernation each year, and man does not yet know how it is possible for them to live during this period. See if you can figure this mystery out! B Move On. Mr. Jones—Good night! Out of gas right here in the middle of traffic! that now; here comes a cop. Mrs. Jones—Well, you can't stop for | th You've got to use dodges in this shad- owing business. You've got to outguess them. We figured that the two crooks were on their way to a telephone. Daly was at one nearby station, where he would keep his eyes open if they | appeared. Walsh hit out for another to wait for them there. I stayed with Mar- cus and Burman, giving them a long tail. They did go to a telephone, but not to either of those we had surmised. The upshot was that both Daly and Walsh lost the trail and T was left alone shadowing two men. ‘The telephone call was to the Schar- lins. I heard part of it. Marcus said they wouldn't hear from him again— last call for dinner. Two hours were left in which to deliver the $470,000— then they might as well make arrange- ments with the undertaker. | _With Burman he walked up Central | Park West. Then on a corner they stood talking earnestly. When men stop like that it means they are going to separate. I could follow only one of them and would have to let the Down the street was a motor cycle cop. I went to him. “I'm going to pinch those two guys,” I told him. “One of them is a crack shot—1 know that. And I guess the other one is, too. Keep in touch, and it I give you a hail you come gallop- ing up.” I planted myself on a stoop a little way from Where the two criminals stood talking. They came on a few steps. They almost brushed me. “Put 'em up!” I called abruptly. Burman turned with an incredible swiftness and drew his automatic. With an instinctive gesture I snatched the weapon from his hand and stuck it in Marcus' stomach. The man with the twisted eye was fumbling for his gun. “Put_'em up!” And Marcus’ hands went slowly up. I yelled for the motor cy}:le mg. b n a flash my last moment seem at hand. Burman grabbed my vls!:idl hand. We clinched. Marcus yanked his gun out to kill me. I swung Bur- man around, using him as a shield. Marcus could not fire. I saw his face over Burman's shoulder. It was com- ing nearer. The hideous, diseased eye glared at me like something ghoulish and unearthly. Marcus reached his automatic over Burman's shoulder to shoot me, A SHOT crashed. The man with the twisted eye crumpled, shot dead. The motor cycle policeman, pistol in hand, had come running at' my shout. He was just behind Marcus as Marcus was about to kill me. The muzzle of his revolver a foot or two from Mar- cus’ back, he blazed away. I wrenched free from Burman and slugged him :‘ri,;h“ the“hhegl‘(l,}("dlutoml!ic, He went n wi s ol Sy streaming from his The man with the twisted eye w: dead and Burman a prisoner. Byurm:xsl refused to talk. And still we did not know where the lair was and could do nothing to rescue Scharlin and Taylor. Our only hope was that the mob would see the news spread in the evening papers, become afraid that Burman would squeal, and let the two men go. Scharlin and Taylor, hooded in their pillowcases, sat glum and despondent. The front door banged open—a yell: “Marcus is bumped off and Burman is pinched—here it is in the paper.” A babel of frightened talk and then an authoritative pronouncement. “We've got to get rid of these guys.” Scharlin and Taylor resigned them- selves to death. At the command cf their captors they held their heads down and gazed fixedly at the floor. The pillowcases were removed. Still with bent heads they were led out of the house and to a-car. Gazing at the floor of the -ear, Scharlin and Taylor were ridden on and on. It was dark when the car stopped. They were ordered out. Thev stood at the roadside .like penitents upon whom some sin weighs so heavily that they dare not meet the eyes of other men. As they studied the ground they heard the motor purr, and the car drbve away, leaving them alone. The mob had acted out of fear of a squeal, but there was no squeal. Bur-~ man kept his peace. He was wanted for crimes in various parts of the country, but there was not enough evidence to convict him in the kidnaping case. Just to make sure, he was given 12 years for assaulting an officer—his attempt * k% ok other go. That was the break. to kill me. Games--Boys and Girls Page--New Ways to Show Skill THE PUZZLE COLUMN ‘There are enough words in this puz- zle .to keep you out of mischief for a while! 1 Cross-Word Puzzle. g au a3 aJg PR PP as we can the money,’ said uncle,” v The definitions are: Horizontal. 1. Noise of mirth. 3. Southern State (Abb.). 5. Like. 7. The Blue Grass State (Abb.). 9. Joint of the arm. 11. Yours. 13. Latin (Abb.). 14. Girl's name. 15. A large artery. 17. Perhaps. 19. Point of the compass. 20. More ancient. 22. Street (Abb.). 23. Covering for a pan. 24. L 26. Fragrant wood. 28. Sailor’s cry. 30. A mixture of metals. 32. A sweetheart. 34, Father. 35. A fatty liquid. 36. One who revolts. 38. Division of a stable. 40. In the Year of the Reign (Abb.). 41. Therefore. 42. Yes. 43. Exclamation. Vertical. Him. . Permit. . A parlor game. . Exclamation. Near. . To cut wool. . Grasps abrutly. . You. . A piece of metal. . A climbing plant. . Indefinite article. . Narrow thoroughfare. . Metal badge of merit. . Eastern time (Abb.). . Performed. . Mother. . Older. . Secret languages. z klke a root. . A word of greeting. . Either. . South America (Abb.). Left hand (Abb.). 2. Now try these word chains, one deal- ing with a stubborn animal and the other with a stubborn problem—passing your examinations in school Change MULE to BALK in three moves, Change TEST to PASS in three moves, 3. Here’s a tricky sentence! There are three missing words, and they are all pronounced alike, although they have different meanings. Can you guess em? “We will the house as soon 3. Raze, raise, 4. The words in the square are Hose, over, seer and errs. ‘This week I'll tell you about some- thing to dflnk‘lnsuld of something to or making your choco- mifk K-iu. at home. The sirup described also makes a fine dip for using on ice cream, either hot or cold. Have you sent me your favorite recipe yet? I'll be glad to print it with your name if it's unusually . Write to Aunt Helen, Room 940. 440 South Dearborn street, Chicago, Ill. CHOCOLATE MILK SHAKE. To make the sirup, stir over direct heat one-half cup cocoa and one cup cold water until smooth. Stir in two cups sugar_and a dash of salt unmtil 2\ sealed in ice chest. For two milk shakes put two to three tablespoons of the sirup, cracked Jice and one and three-fourths cups of milk in a shaker. Shake well serve at once. A quart jar may be used as & shaker. Riddles. You'll have to mgemr wits about you if you expect to be successful with this week’s crop of riddles. And don't peek at the answers! 1. What is it everybody wishes for and then tries to get rid of? 2. What has four X and one foot? 3. Which side of a has the most hair on it? 4. 1t's no‘t‘ my b;x;:e;‘ it's not my sister, yet it's a cl my . mother and father. Who is it? 5. A man marrisd scven wives, and yet was not merried. How come? Anawers. 1. A good appetite. 2. A bed. 3. The outside. 4. of course. 5. He was a preacher. #