Transcribers note: The articles on the Tompkyns/Tonkin murder, change the spelling of names, without notice, for the first two days, Tonkin was spelt Tompkyns in the Post-Dispatch and 1 day in the Globe-Democrat, and then changed to Tonkin with no explanation, several other names are treated the same way. If at any point I have put a word description, or comment, it will be in these sort of parentheses { }. All spellings of words are how they were in the paper. Karen King - kleeking@mindspring.com

 

St. Louis Daily Globe – Democrat December 23, 1881 page 3

 

SCHARLOT’S ALIBI.

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The Prisoner’s Defense Weakened by the Inquest, but Strengthened by His Friends.

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Kitty Mulcahy’s Suspicious Anxiety to Shield Him – The Statement of the Girl Who Went to Warn – John Buckley Recollects the Meeting Near Memorial Hall – How the Prisoner’s Father and Mother

Recollect the Hour.

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The evidence taken before the Coroner yesterday establishes quite clearly that Kitty Mulcahy, otherwise known as Lamont, is the woman who was at the church at time of the Lucas place shooting. There is still some questions as to who the man was who was with her at that time. The police are quite confident that they have him in custody and that he is none other than Billy Scharlot, who says he was somewhere else at that time. One witness, a boy, was quite positive at the time that Scharlot was there and that he did the shooting, but when he came to testify under oath he was much more cautious in his statements. He would not swear that the man who did the shooting was Scharlot, but he had seen the latter in the vicinity that same evening, and his description of the man who fired, though general and indefinite, might and might not apply to Scharlot. Of course, in this connection, all bearing on the alibi advanced as Scharlot’s defense becomes important. In trying to prove his absence from the scene of the tragedy, Scharlot testifies that when he returned from that part of the city it was a couple of hours before the shooting had taken place; that when he had the oysters in the restaurant it was only a few minutes after 10 o’clock, and the fact that he was there on that night he recalls to the mind of the restaurant people by stating he circumstances of changing a $10 bill. The restaurant-keeper sent out for change, and they had to wait several minutes. This is the circumstances which, as the matter stands, has weakened the alibi. The proprietor of the restaurant states that the $10 bill was changed after midnight, and the same statements is corroborated, as shown in the testimony below, by the saloon-keeper who changed the bill and the waiter who took it to him. The saloon-keeper is very positive as to the time, because, he is accustomed to close his saloon at 12 o’clock at night. He was then just making ready to close and had looked up to see if it was not then high time to do so. He saw by the clock that it was 12:20. At that time Scharlot swears he was at home in bed and sound asleep. But he admits that he was in the restaurant that night, only once, however, and that at that time the girl paid for the oysters with a $10 bill. She says she was there twice; that the first time she, Campher, and Scharlot were together, and that she paid the amount due with a $10 bill; but that she was there again later in the night, between 12 and 1 o’clock, with two strangers one of whom she had met the second time; she went out to the vicinity of the Second Presbyterian Church; she says she had gone there to see if "Billy" had not returned to meet Mollie Maloney; and not finding him she came back to the restaurant with the other two men, one of whom she met on the way down. So it will be seen that, as shown by the evidence, thus far, the truth or falsity of the alibi hinges upon the changing of the $10 bill. All the witnesses examined in relation to it (three in number) are positive that it was changed a few minutes after midnight, and the prisoner admits himself that he was there when it was changed. If he was one of that party of three who were in the restaurant at this time, the statement of the girl as to where they came from is to be taken into consideration. She declares that she does not know the names of the men she was with at this time – that is at 12:20 o’clock – and that this was not the time she paid for the meals. Her statement stands against three disinterested witnesses, however, and the odds are against her. The restaurant people did not notice the men of the party, although they are certain as to the girl, who wore a red hood and black cloak. These witnesses remember that the girl was not there more than once that night.

Scharlot has made the statement in a private interview that he went out and got a bottle of beer after the bill was changed. If this be true, perhaps another witness as to the time he was there may be found in the person of the bar-keeper from whom he bought it.

As will be seen from interviews which follow the inquest, the alibi in Scharlot’s behalf is being greatly strengthened by the statements of the family and acquaintances of the prisoner.

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The Inquest.

The first witness called yesterday was John Powers, the private watchman on Lucas place. He testified to hearing a shot fired and some one cry out. He found Tonkin in a crouched position on the terrace of the church on the Lucas place front. He told Tonkin if he had taken his advice he would not be there. Tonkin replied, "I see it." The first time he met Tonkin was about four months ago, when the latter was in company with a woman whom he claimed to be arresting for improper conduct. Witness warned him that he would get hurt if went on meddling with people. Witness was going to arrest Tonkin that time, but the woman refused to prosecute him and let him go. He met the man several times after the occurrence, the last time about a week ago, when he again advised him not to meddle in other people’s affairs. The horse-clipper took a large rock out of his coat pocket and said he was prepared. Powers saw no one running or acting suspiciously either before or after the shooting. The last persons he saw or spoke to before the shooting were three colored men, one of whom went into Mrs. Maffitt’s residence, and the other two went west on Lucas place.

WASH TRIMBLE,

the janitor of the Manual Training School, who lives in the rear of the Smith Academy, repeated the statement made to a reporter of the GLOBE – DEMOCRAT on Monday. At about 9:30 p.m. Sunday evening, when he came out to look at a fire in the northern part of the city, he saw a man and woman turn the corner of Nineteenth and walk east on St. Charles street. When they first approached the woman was on the outside, so that she would have had to pass the witness. Before reaching him, however, she change her position as regarded her escort, taking the inside and ducking down her head as she passed, as if she wanted to conceal her face. When the party reached the corner of Eighteenth street they separated, the woman standing at the corner and the man coming back and again passing the witness. When the man reached the corner of Nineteenth and St. Charles streets he met Tonkin, who was just turning the corner to come down St. Charles street. When the first man met Tonkin he turned deliberately around and came back, going up to the woman, who still stood on the corner. They had a few words and he gave her something. Again they separated, he going south on Eighteenth street and she north, to Washington avenue. The witness followed her and saw her turn east on Washington avenue. While the witness was standing at the corner of Eighteenth and Washington avenue Tonkin rushed past and said, "Where is she?" Witness replied, "There she goes." Tonkin ran after the woman and caught up with her; they walked together to Seventeenth street and turned south. This was the last the witness saw of the whole party.

The man who Trimble claims to have seen with the woman, he describes as a person of middle age, with black mutton chop side whiskers, wearing a soft, wide felt hat and a black overcoat reaching below the knees. His dress-coat was buttoned up; he wore gloves and was neatly dressed. Witness thinks he was quite tall and slender.

IDENTIFIED ALONG THE ROUTE.

C.E. Bryarly, of the Globe Restaurant, testified in substance: I recognize Campher and the girl Kitty, but not Scharlot, for he had his back turned to me. The three came into the restaurant after 12 o’clock and ordered oysters, one of the party giving the waiter a $10 bill, and I had to send out for change. The parties staid about twenty minutes and left. Kitty had on a red cap.

B.L. Bocigalupo, a saloon-keeper at Seventh and Chestnut, said that he had changed a $10 bill for a boy who had on an apron on Sunday night just before he closed; was in the habit of closing at 12 o’clock; it was then 12:20.

Dennis Nicholson, the waiter who got the change, said it all took place about 12 o’clock. He remembered the girl who had on a red hood, but could not describe or recognize the men who were with her.

Officer Almond Worcester, night clerk in the Chief’s office, testified that on Tuesday night a boy came with a note from Lou Allen, stating that she wanted an officer at her house, 20 South Eighth street. Witness went down, found Officer O’Malley, and the two went there together. Lou made a statement that implicated Kitty in the shooting, and the officers arrested her. Kitty said that she was within half a block of the place and heard the shot. She said that there was a man with her at the time, and that another man had offered her a fur cap. She declared that she was too drunk to remember who the man was who was with her.

THE BOY WHO SAW IT.

Jacob Marks, a lad of 16, living at 1205 Linden street, testified that having followed the circus out there, he was in the neighborhood and had seen the shooting. When the woman and a man started into the church-yard, Tonkin followed them. Words passed between the two men. The woman and man came back to the sidewalk. The woman handed a pistol to the man, with which he shot the other. The couple then crossed the street, passed the boy and went around the corner upon which the Turner mansion stands.

The boy said the man who did the shooting was a small man, with a little short coat and a round black hat. He did not see his face and could not describe it. He was quite sure that Kitty Mulcahy was the girl.

Detective Severn Eggs testified that he was present when Scharlot was arrested at 2024 Biddle street. This took place at half past 3 o’clock Tuesday morning. "The statement when he made here," the witness said, "is about the same he made to me, excepting that he said he was working for a man named Bryan, and that the reason he had not worked on Monday was that one of the horses belonging to a team he drove was lame."

Officer O’Malley testified to the circumstances of the girl’s arrest.

Officer Russell Palmer said he was in the Dispensary when news of the shooting reached there. He hurried out and found the wounded man near a large rock which lay on the grass in front of the church. There was a lawn mower in the churchyard, and the boot prints around it showed there had been a scuffle there.

Officer Samuel Sullens testified that he was at Fifteenth and Chestnut streets when he heard the shot fired; that it was then about 11:45 p.m.; that he rapped and started in the direction from which the sound came. On the way, he met a citizen who told him a woman had shot a man. The witness remained with the body until Officer Hogan came with the ambulance.

THE WOMAN’S STATEMENT.

The following is the statement made by Kitty Lamont, alias Mulcahy; "I live at 20 South Eighth street, and know Wm. Scharlot, Thomas Campher and Mollie Maloney. Scharlot and I were out walking together Sunday afternoon. At about 7 o’clock we met Campher near Eighteenth street and Biddle. The three of us then walked together, and about 9 p.m. we passed the Art Gallery on Lucas place. Going east I saw a girl and a fellow sitting on the front steps of the Art Gallery. We passed on and about half a block east of there a man spoke to Scharlot, whom he seemed to know, and who appeared to be watching the couple. He said, ‘I’m going to take that dame away from him.’ I am not certain that the man was the deceased. Scharlot told me then, while walking down, ‘that is one of the worst fellows in town.’ We then walked straight down Locust street, got some beer at Fred Lark’s, on Tenth and Morgan streets, and went from there to the Globe restaurant, where we had oysters. We came out and waited at Eighth and Chestnut streets, Scharlot and Campher went north and I went south, turned the block and went out Pine street through the park and out Lucas place; in the middle of the block between Seventeenth and Eighteenth streets, beyond the church, while walking along, a man, whom I recognized to be the deceased, came out from behind a fence or out of a lot and spoke to me; he said, ‘good evening, it’s pretty lonesome;’ he asked me where I was going and I said it was none of his business where I was going. He then produced a fur cap out of his pocket, and offered it and $2 to me if I would go with him to his room, on Nineteenth and St. Charles streets. I told him to go to h--l with it, that I did not have to take a man’s old trash to go with him to his room. He walked with me near the Art Gallery, pretty near {whole in microfilm} block from where I met him. This conversation was had while walking west, and ended with his saying to me, ‘Go to h--l , you -------- ---------- ----------!’ He then went on to the corner of Nineteenth street, and crossed over to the south side of Lucas place and walked east. We separated in sight of the couple that were sitting on the steps of the Art Gallery. As soon as the man now dead had left me, another man came to me and spoke to me, saying, ‘Good evening,’ and asked permission to see me home. Nothing was said between us about the other man, who had insulted me. We walked down Lucas place and turned the corner of the church towards Washington avenue. We had just turned the corner on a leisurely walk when I heard the report of a shot. This came from right by the church. I said to my escort, ‘somebody is shooting,’ and he said, ‘it was a policeman scaring the boys off the steps.’ When we turned the corner of St. Charles street to go to Washington avenue, I saw an old man running north towards the church and cracking his club on the sidewalk as he ran. When the man, now dead, left me and went across the street, I looked over there but once, and he was then a little piece east of the crossing; I paid no attention to him any more until we got to the church and turned, when I looked back, but could see no one. I had neither seen him cross the street to the sidewalk nor do I know where he was at the time of the shooting, which took place about 12 o’clock last Sunday night. My escort and I walked down Washington avenue, south on Robbin’s lane, down Lucas place and through the park, where we met another man. He and my escort called one another ‘pards.’ The three of us walked down Olive street and went to the Globe Restaurant, had oysters, and then he took me home. He wore an overcoat, soft felt hat, gloves, diamond-pin and ring, and watch and chain. He was nicely dressed, and I remember that the hat was soft, because I sat on it and did not hurt it. He wore a dark mustache and side-whiskers. At the restaurant my escort’s partner gave me a $2 bill, and I paid for the oysters. When I was there with Campher and Scharlot I paid for the oysters with a $10 bill that was my own, and the man went out for change. When Scharlot and Campher with me I paid for the oysters. It was about 9 or 10 o’clock p.m. While I was promenading with Scharlot and Campher, after dark, we did not go on St. Charles street. After parting with Scharlot on Eighth and Chestnut streets, I went back to the Art Gallery to see if he had gone back there to meet Mollie Maloney, for the first man that I met there told Scharlot that it was Mollie. No one tried to take me away from Scharlot. The escort that I met and who took me home, after I was insulted, had no pistol that I saw, and I did not see him fire a shot. He was with me all the time from the time I met him until he left the house. He and I did not go into the church-yard nor on the terrace in front of the church. I wore these same clothes last Sunday – this black cloak and red hood."

In answer to a question, the witness said she could not explain how the deceased could go from near the southeast corner of Nineteenth street and Lucas place, where she last saw him, to the church-yard, be there fully five minutes before she heard the shot fired, when she had turned the corner of the church. She signed her name in jagged but plain letters, "Kitty Lamont."

WILLIAM HENRY SCHARLOT

testified: I live at 2024 Biddle street, and am a carpenter by trade, I was 18 years of age last August; at about 1:30 last Sunday afternoon I went to Kitty Lamont’s house, No. 20 South Eighth street, and about 3 p.m. she and I left there and went to Tenth and Morgan streets to Fred Lark’s saloon. She staid there while I went to several livery stables to get a buggy, but I returned without being able to get one. We then went together down to Fourth and Christy avenue and tried again to get one, but failing we went out Broadway to Cass avenue; going west we reached the corner of Eighteenth and Division streets, where we met Campher. He then went with us to Lark’s saloon, where we had more drinks. We went from there to Eleventh, over Eleventh to Washington avenue and to Thirteenth street, through the park and then out Lucas place to Nineteenth street, over Nineteenth to Olive, down Olive to Eighteenth, back to Lucas place, down Lucas place, through the park to Thirteenth and Olive, thence to Chestnut, down Chestnut to the restaurant. After having oysters we came out and stood on the corner of Eighth and Chestnut for about five minutes, when Kitty said she was going home and told me I had better go home. She started south, and I and Campher went north. On Eleventh and Franklin avenue we took a drink. It was then about 10:30 p.m. We went to Eighteenth and Biddle streets, where we separated, he going north and I west, going home. I went to bed and heard the 11 o’clock bells strike. I did not get up again until about 7:30 the next morning. On Lucas place, between Sixteenth and Seventeenth, there was a young man going east, and he said, ‘Hello, Scharlot.’ That is all that passed between him and me. No one spoke to me, Kitty, or Campher. When we passed the gallery, after 9 o’clock, I did not look up to see if anybody was on the steps, but I heard a voice speaking in a low tone. I did not see Kitty after I parted with her on Eighth and Chestnut streets about 10:15 p.m. until Monday afternoon, at the saloon at the corner of Eighth and Market streets, where she came out of her hiding place in a closet. Kitty paid for the oysters with a $10 bill, and I remember the clerk had to go out and get change." The witness wrote his name "Sharlow."

THOMAS CAMPHER,

or Camper, testified that he lived at 1812 O’Fallon street. "At about 7 o’clock last Sunday night Scharlot and Kitty came up and found me in a grocery store on Eighteenth and Biddle streets. We went down to Eighth and Cass avenue, and on Eighth and Biddle Scharlot left us, saying he was going home. Kitty and I staid together, and met Scharlot again on Tenth and Morgan. From there we went, by the way of the park, up Lucas place and out to about twenty-first street, where we turned back down Lucas place and went indirectly to the Globe restaurant. Kitty paid for the oysters, and I noticed that somebody went out to get change. While going out Lucas place I saw a row of boys sitting on the stone coping in front of the church. One of them said, ‘Hello!’ Coming back, while we were between the Art Gallery and the church, a young man, about 23 years of age, asked Scharlot for a chew of tobacco. His name is John Buckley. Scharlot stopped to give him the tobacco, while Kitty and I walked on until he caught up with us."

MOLLIE MALONEY

said: "I live at 2112 Cass avenue; at 7 p.m. last Sunday I left home in company with Ed McGavhey, and went to my brother’s, at 2313 Division street; staid there till 9 p.m. I was then escorted directly from and went to bed. I was not on the steps of the Art Hall that evening, and never was on them in my life."

The post-mortem examination showed that death was caused by internal hemorrhage.

At this juncture an adjournment was taken until this morning, subpoenas being issued for John Buckley, Lou Allen and others.

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Later Developments.

In the evidence before the jury yesterday it was stated that, while going out Lucas place with Kitty Mulcahy, Scharlot met a friend of his, John Buckley, who stopped him and asked for a chew of tobacco. The prisoners seemed to lay some stress on this fact as aiding in establishing the alibi for Scharlot. To ascertain how true the statement was a GLOBE – DEMOCRAT reporter called at Buckley’s house last night. A heavy knock brought a comely young lady to the door, who, in response to the inquiry as to whether Mr. Buckley was at home, said she would see, and invited the reporter in. The room was a comfortably furnished one, used both as a parlor and bedchamber. Requesting the visitor to be seated, and excusing herself, the young lady who opened the door went into and adjoining room and after a moment’s absence returned. Saying that Mr. Buckley would be in presently. Besides the young lady referred to, there was another one of perhaps the same age and appearance, and a young man. The latter was evidently a caller, an both girls appeared to be entertaining him. For a while there was not a word uttered by any one, and as Mr. Buckley was slow in making his appearance the young man broke the embarrassing silence by addressing himself to the news-hunter and inquiring as to the state of the weather. As the subject is always fruitful of discussion, a semi-conversation sprung up and did not flag until Buckley entered the room. Buckley is a young man about 28 years old, tall, somewhat above the medium height, of powerful physique, rather prepossessing in appearance, having a smooth face covered with three or four days growth of reddish fuzz, the hair on his head being of the same color, short and rather inclined to be curly. He was coatless and shoeless, and wore dark pantaloons and a reddish striped shirt. After saying good evening, he looked inquiringly at the scribe.

THE INTERVIEW WITH BUCKLEY.

"Mr. Buckley," said the reporter, coming to business at once, "Do you know Billy Scharlot?"

"Yes, sir; I know him well."

"Did you see him at any time last Sunday?"

"I saw him last Sunday night."

"Where?"

"On Lucas place."

"Near the church?"

"No, on the northeast corner of Nineteenth street and Lucas place."

"Did you have any conversation with him?"

"Yes, I stopped him and asked him for a chew of tobacco."

"Anything else transpire between you?"

"No, after I got the tobacco I resumed my way home."

"Was Scharlot alone?"

"No, there was a woman with him."

"Anybody else?"

"A young man."

"Who was the woman?"
"I don’t know; never saw her before."

"Can you describe her?"

"No, I didn’t take particular notice of her."

"Who was the young man?"
"I don’t know."

"Do you know whether it was Tom Campher?"
"I couldn’t say; I don’t know the young man."

Campher lives almost within a stone’s throw of Buckley’s house, and he Buckley and Scharlot, according to the second last named, "run" together.

"Do you remember what time it was when you met Scharlot and the parties with him?"

"It was about 8:30 o’clock, or rather between 8:30 and 9 o’clock."

"Was Scharlot drunk or sober at the time?"

"I can’t say; I don’t remember."

ANOTHER WITNESS.

"Oh, he was perfectly sober," broke in the young ladies man.

"How do you know?" asked the reporter, in surprise, turning to the young man.

"Well, I know that he was sober when he came home."

"Did you see him?"

"Of course I did. I know him slightly," with considerable emphasis on the last word.

"How does it happen that you saw him when he came home?"

"Because I live in the same house with him."

"Oh! Pray, what’s your name?"

"Herbert is my name, but they’ve got it Weber in the papers and that I’m a cousin of Scharlot."

The young man’s presents in Buckley’s house, and the apparent fact that he was on friendly terms with the latter’s family, taken in connection with Scharlot’s reference to his meeting with Buckley, and the young man’s assertion as to the time the suspected man returned home last Sunday night, all important elements in the attempt to prove an alibi, opened up a new train of thoughts in the reporter’s mind. In fact a new light broke upon him, and for a moment he supposed he was on the eve of making an important discovery.

The intimacy between these two witnesses appeared singular. A series of questions was put to Herbert, or Weber, with a view of drawing out something having direct bearing of the case, but the result was unsatisfactory. The young man professed to know nothing regarding Scharlot’s movements, "I only know that Billy came home at 10:45 o’clock Sunday night, and that he was perfectly sober."

Buckley left the room while the conversation between the reporter and Herbert was in progress. Nothing else could be elicited and the reporter withdrew.

KITTY RYAN,

an inmate of Lou Allen’s place, who was intimately associated with Kitty Mulcahy, was interviewed by a GLOBE – DEMOCRAT reporter last evening in regard to the behavior and statements of the latter. Being told what was wanted she began and went through her story, without much prompting, about as follows:

"Well, I’ll tell you. Tuesday Lou Allen was reading about the murder down at her house and Kitty used to keep saying; ‘Well, that’s a fact. It all comes back to me now.’ Miss Lou told her she had better tell what she knew about it to the police, she seemed to know so much. In fact, Miss Lou used to try and make Kitty believe that Billy was in the murder. Kitty then told us she was within half a block of the church when the shot was fired. One of the papers published a piece about a man and woman who were walking out that way – they were being followed, and they separated. Well that was Kitty and Billy. Kitty told me so. Kitty says Billy left her on Eighteenth street near St. Charles street or Washington avenue and went home. She was walking down Washington avenue when Tonkin came up and spoke to her. He offered her a fur cap and some money to go with him, she says, and that she told him to go to ----. Tonkin left her and she picked up with another fellow. She was walking with him when the shot was fired. Kitty asked what it was all about, but the fellow she had picked up, whoever he is, told her not to go near it. They went down to Lou Allen’s and staid there all night. Oh, I don’t think it was Billy that shot Tonkin. And, say, do you know who that man is that was with Kitty when the shot was fired?"

The reporter said he couldn’t tell her, and asked her if she knew anything else.

"Well, Tuesday Miss Lou told Kitty she had better tell the police on Billy, and clear herself. Kitty said, ‘Well, even if he did do it, do you think I’d give my Billy away?’ And then again, when the two detectives came in the house and began to search it, Kitty said, ‘Oh, I feel so queer. I don’t know what makes me feel so funny. I never felt that way before. ‘I don’t know what should make you feel funny, either,’ said Tucker, ‘How do you feel anyway?’ ‘Oh, I feel kind of guilty.’"

"Where were you and Kitty going to Tuesday night?"

"Well, after Miss Lou had been reading the paper, Kitty said to me; ‘Come on, I’m going to find my Billy and tell him he had better leave town.’ She said that Billy didn’t have anything to do with it, but that on account of her being near the church that night Billy might be arrested and given trouble. Kitty did make that remark that Sergeant MrGrew said he heard. Billy said to me one night the he would ‘shake’ Kitty, as she was always getting him into trouble. I never knew about this murder then, and I supposed that he was referring to the cutting scrape Kitty got him into. You know his trial for that came about the 1st. I don’t believe Billy was referring to the murder. He never spoke to me about the murder. Kitty said that Billy had caused her so much trouble and made her a wreck, but I told her it was just the other way. It was she that made a wreck of Billy, and it’s so too; because Billy was a nice boy before he had anything to do with her."

The Family and the Alibi.

The home of Peter Scharlot, the father of "Billy," the prisoner, located at No. 2024 Biddle street, was visited last night. Mr. Scharlot and his wife were found at home, and ready and willing to answer all question. Their dwelling betokens the thrift of the occupants. Everything about the place is neat and clean. Mr. Scharlot looks one right in the face, as he speaks and looks like a man who would not lie even to save a son. Mrs. Scharlot is frank and open in her manner. Their son had, in giving in his testimony during the day, stated that he had reached his home before 11 o’clock on Sunday night. Tonkin received his death wound at a few minutes before midnight, a time when, according to the evidence given in by "Billy," he was at home and asleep in his bed. The time he reached home cuts an important figure in the case as it now stands, and for that reason Mr. and Mrs. Scharlot were again questioned upon that subject in view of the developments at the inquest.

"Billy was in bed," said Mr. Scharlot, "before 11 o’clock on Sunday night. I am positive of that. My wife, too, is positive as to the time."

"What have you to guide you in fixing the hour?" the reporter asked.

"We leave the lamp burning in our room all night," said Mr. Scharlot. "You saw it burning as you came up stairs, didn’t you? Well, we were in bed then. The detectives came here at 4 o’clock on Tuesday morning. They found the lamp burning. When Billy came home on Sunday night the lamp was burning. I knew it was late, and when he got home he woke me up. I got out of bed and went into his room and scolded him. Then I went back to my bed, and as I went into my room, looked at the clock an saw that it was nearly 11 o’clock. As I got into bed the clock struck 11, and my wife looking over, noticed the hour. I said, ‘here, it’s 11 o’clock, and you’ve just got home.’ I said this for Billy to hear."

"Who else can say that ‘Billy’ was at home at 11 o’clock?" the reporter asked.

"Johnny Webb, his room-mate, can also prove that he was home at 11 o’clock. He heard me scolding Billy, and heard the clock strike."

"Can anyone else testify that he was here before 11 o’clock?"

"Well, no; I don’t know of anyone else. We three and Billy were the only ones in the house."

"How about the people down stairs?"

"They had company down stairs on Sunday night, and the company left after Billy had got home. They left at about 11 o’clock."

"How do you know that they left after he got home?"

"For the reason that they heard him coming in and scolding him."

"They say that Billy has been a bad boy and caused you a great deal of trouble?" the reporter said.

"Well, he isn’t a bad boy," said Billy’s father, "and what hurts me more than this arrest is the name the police give him. The lives at home with me. He works every day. Now can they justly call a person that does that a ----------?"

"He’s been arrested twice hasn’t he?" asked the reporter.

"Yes," said Mr. Scharlot, "and I’ll tell you what for, too. The first time it was for carrying a pistol. He had been out to Creve Coeur Lake fishing, and , while out there, he and his friends were chased by some older boys. He said then that the next time he went to the lake he would buy a pistol. When he got ready to go he bought a pistol and they had just about started when he was arrested and prosecuted for carrying concealed weapons. His second arrest was for cutting the boy Dunn in Carr Park. Dunn and Campher were with Billy that evening. Dunn borrowed a quarter from Campher as they walked along. They had had three or four glasses of beer apiece, and Campher and paid for them. When they got to Carr Park Campher asked Dunn to treat with the quarter he had loaned him. Dunn wouldn’t treat and this made Campher mad and he called Dunn a mean fellow. At this Dunn got up, knocked Campher down and was kicking him when Billy interfered. Then Dunn knocked him down. Billy got up, and then Dunn knocked him down again. At this "Billy" drew his knife and cut Dunn. The latter knew that he was in fault, and if it wasn’t for his father I believe he’d refuse to prosecute this case."

At this point Mrs. Scharlot put in a word. "I can’t believe," she said, "that Billy had anything to do with the shooting of Tonkin. I’ll tell you why. The detectives came to this house to arrest Billy on last Tuesday morning at 4 o’clock. When we admitted them to the house they entered Billy’s bedroom, and one of them, I think his name was Eggs, sat on the end of the bed while Billy was putting his clothes on. Billy was as cool as he could be. He was not the least excited. Eggs said, looking at me, ‘I’m taking him on a dead man.’ I had been reading the evening before about Tonkins being shot, and I said, ‘Do you mean the man shot at the church?’ Eggs said, ‘yes,’ and then, looking at my son, I said: ‘Will, you didn’t have anything to do with that shooting, did you?’ ‘No, ma,’ he said, without changing color or appearing a bit afraid of worried about his arrest. Now, if he had been guilty. I know he would have been more excited than he was. I’ll tell you why I know. The night he cut Dunn he came straight home from the park. He ran up the stairs and into the house. His face was as white as a sheet. He was in his shirt sleeves. He looked around for his coat, got it and then darted out of the house like lightning. This was on Friday night. He did not come home again that night. The next night he also ran away. On the Sunday following he was seen running to a fire and arrested on the charge of cutting Dunn. Three days later we heard of his arrest. His actions then don’t compare very well with his actions now, do they? He came home Sunday night a little late, but he was not at all excited an acted quite natural. In the morning when he got up he joked and laughed as usual. I noticed nothing strange about his conduct during either that day or night. I tell you, sir, if he was guilty that he wouldn’t be taking things so easy."

"Now," said the father of Billy, coming to the front again, "what evidence have they got that Billy fired that shot? The only witness that says he saw a man firing a shot is the boy Marks. Mr. Turner says that he saw a woman shoot. He ran across the road, and he asked Tonkin who fired the shot, and Tonkin said a man. Mr. Turner said, ‘You lie, it was a woman;’ and then Tonkin said, ‘Yes, it was a woman.’ Now isn’t Mr. Turner’s word enough to prove that it was a woman? Isn’t his testimony worth that of twenty boys like Marks? Why, Marks lies. He never saw the shooting. They say the little rascal makes regular business of telling big stories. I heard to-day that in a case in Illinois, where a man was found drowned, Marks came to the front and swore he saw a man holding the other’s head in under the water and trying to drown him. Afterwards this statement was proven false. Why, just read Marks’ statement and you’ll see it’s a fiction throughout."

"Who tells the story about Marks and the Illinois case of drowning?"

"Some one told it to Webb to-day, and he told us."

"How do you account for the discrepancy in the statements made by the girl, Kitty Mulcahy, and the two boys as to the time they were at this point and the other and of what they did?"

"I’m afraid that they did not tell the whole truth when they were arrested. If they had stuck to the truth their stories would have tallied, the facts would have borne them out, and by this time their innocence would have been proven."