West Virginia, multiple executions, 1938-1958, Undated

nem ca ae Ass:

a re

Savagely beaten, and bleeding profusely, the 80-year-old kidnap

we * Ty:

a possible emergency. I will hold on while you look.”

Deane hastened back to the porch. Back at the phone
again, he reported, “There is no key there.”

“Then something surely is wrong. Spare keys to all
Dr. Seder’s properties are at the office. I will get them. I
will be right over.”

Within 30 minutes the young woman joined the waiting
neighbor at the house. After a half-dozen tries she found
the proper key on the heavily-loaded brass ring. The bolt
slid, the door swung open and they burst into the swelter-
ing apartment. The secretary called Dr. Seder’s name.
There was no response.

She hurried, Deane at her heels, into Dr. Seder’s study.
There nothing appeared amiss. She started back through
the wide doorway, then turned and paused in thought.

“What’s wrong?” Deane asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, “but something bothers me in
this room—I caught it when we came in—yes, there it is!”

She hurried across the thick Oriental rug to the wooden
rack beside the huge desk. “These canes—” she said. “The
doctor is bound to _be somewhere in this house._He had_
only these three white canes. He would never, under any
circumstances, go outside the house without one of his
canes.”

“That’s right. I never saw him outdoors without a cane,”
Deane agreed. “Are you sure he had only three?”

“IT am positive.”

Leaving the room, the two searched quickly and franti-
cally as they progressed toward the doctor’s bedroom. At
this door they stopped. Lights blazed. Gas tongues licked
at iron logs. The bed had been stripped of its blankets and
its pillow, leaving only the mattress sheet, which was
ripped as if from a violent, unsuccessful jerk to snatch it
from the bed.

The secretary gasped, “Something dreadful has happened
to Dr. Seder! Mr. Deane, please call the police. Please—
please hurry!” ‘

Deane’s excited call brought quick response at police
headquarters. Detectives Roy Hagley and Harry Farris
were dispatched to the residence, where they found the
missing doctor’s secretary almost hysterical with fear. She
cried, “Dr. Seder has been murdered!”

“Now,” Detective Hagley said, “let’s not jump to any
conclusions.”

“Look at the bed! His white canes are here. The heat’s
going full blast. And the lights. No one has seen him since
Monday afternoon. Now it’s Tuesday night. And Dr. Seder
is nearly 80 years old.”

“Have you searched the entire premises?” Farris asked.

“Only this far. But that bed tells the story.”

The detectives examined the living quarters, finding
nothing out of order except in the bedroom. Hagley stepped
to the rear door that led out from the kitchen. Under his
fingers the knob turned and the door opened.

victim was left in a deep shaft of an abandoned coal mine

“Was this door unlocked?” Detective Hagley asked.

“We didn’t try it,” Deane said.

Next, opening a door in the kitchen, the two detectives
descended a flight of wooden steps, after flicking a wall
switch that cast a dim yellow glow into the dark cellar.
They turned on their flashlights and began to probe among
the large wooden crates containing papers and books. The
officers moved cautiously among the containers. If any
box had been disturbed or anything else in the basement
recently moved, the officers saw no evidence of it. A foot-
by-foot exploration of the floor revealed no spot recently
dug. They returned to the first floor.

Detective Hagley said, “We have found nothing in the
house that gives us a clue.”

“The canes are a clue,” the doctor’s secretary declared.
“Dr. Seder’s vision was extremely poor. He wore very thick
glasses. He would never go abroad without one of his canes.
He had only three of them. Those three white canes are
in his study. Dr. Seder did not leave this place voluntarily.”

“Dr. Seder is a large man,” Hagley said. “Anyone who
would want to do him harm would have a problem. Can
either you or Mr. Deane tell us anything more?” .

The neighbor explained what he had noticed. The secre-
tary told of Dr. Seder’s scheduled appointment with the
painting contractor. She did not know if he had kept it.
She gave the detective the contractor’s name and address.

The detective went to the doctor’s study, consulted the
telephone directory and presently was in conversation
with the contractor.

“No,” the man said, “Dr. Seder did not keep his appoint-
ment with me this morning. It was for nine o’clock at one
of his apartment houses on Park Avenue. I waited two
hours in front of the place. Then I phoned his home. No
one answered. He never did show up. I figured business
at his office had tied him up and that I would hear from
him later.”

“Had the doctor broken appointments with you before?”

“Never. He was always punctual.”

Detective Hagley hung up, said to Detective Farris,
“What do you make of it?”

“Well, if it were not for the missing bedclothes, I'd say

Farmer Albert Ronk heard a faint ery, and followed the sound to Dr. Seder in the mine. William Dixon helped get him to a hospital

he just took off on a trip. His secretary could be mistaken
about the number of white canes he owns. He could have
had another she didn’t know about.”

“She is very positive about the canes. And, she’s his
private secretary. Maybe we'd better call Swann.”

Detective Lieutenant L. J. Swann, after talking with the
secretary and the upstairs tenant and after joining his aides
in another inspection of the premises, arrived at no con-
clusion concerning the doctor’s curious absence. The miss-
ing bedclothes and the canes seemed important.

“Knowing the doctor’s dignity,” Lieutenant Swann ob-
served, “I am sure he would not carry his own blankets
and pillow on a trip. There is no blood anywhere in the
apartment. No signs of a struggle. However, the stripped
bed suggests violence—a body wrapped in blankets. And
it’s possible for murder to have been done and no blood left
here to indicate it.” He turned to the secretary. “Could
the doctor have taken a sudden notion to visit some rela-
tive?”

The alarmed young woman said she did not think so.
Lieutenant Swann called the doctor’s son in Minneapolis,
whom the doctor’s wife was visiting. The son said he
knew of no plan of his father to visit them.

A call to the second son, in Pittsburgh, brought a similar
answer. The Pittsburgh man phoned his sister in New
York. After that the two sons advised the lieutenant that
they would arrive in Huntington the next day.

Lieutenant Swann did not wait for their arrival. At
dawn he and his detectives were still working on the
mysterious disappearance. A neighbor who lived directly
across the street told the officers, “I talked with Dr. Seder
on Monday morning, here on the sidewalk. He seemed
unusually nervous.”

“In what way?”

“Well, he asked me, ‘Did you ever have a tough money
problem to solve?’ Before I could answer, he said, ‘I’ve
got one and I don’t know what to do about it.’ I was

* surprised. Everybody knows Dr. Seder is wealthy and

certainly had no money problems. After he said that he
walked away, his expression very troubled.”
“Did he have a cane?”


Eis Whig ge

REY enterica oesetRA Nah hE

“Oh, yes. He had one of his white canes. He never is
without a white cane. You see, his vision is very poor.”

Then the neighbor had more to contribute. “Now I
recall that I noticed a car with Iowa license plates on it
parked in front of the doctor’s house near dusk Monday
afternoon. I was on my way back from the delicatessen
store. I don’t know if that means anything.”

Continued questioning in the neighborhood contributed
nothing further until a physician volunteered, “A little
before dusk Monday I made a call four houses beyond
Dr. Seder’s residence. When I got out of my car I noticed

a blond man, about 21 years old, loitering on the curb. ,

He asked me if I knew which was Dr. Seder’s home. I
pointed to the house and he moved away in that direction.”

“Can you tell us anything else about this man?”

“Well, no—except that I’d say he spoke with a Northern
or Western accent.”

City police were instructed to search for an automobile
bearing an Iowa license plate, Lieutenant Swann conferred
with his staff. “Unless his sons can throw some light on
this, we’re working in the dark. One of them will arrive
here early this afternoon. Perhaps he can help us.”

Around three o’clock the steel company executive ar-
rived from Pittsburgh. The officers accompanied him to
his father’s home, where they made another complete
search, including the son’s perusal of various personal
papers in the study. The younger Seder expressed grave
concern, but could offer no explanation for his father’s
absence.

A psychiatrist friend of the family suggested, “I think
we are needlessly alarming ourselves by assuming harm
has come to the doctor. He may have been suffering from
a psychosis incident to old age. Certain things suggest
amnesia—the worry about money, for instance. My opinion
is that his mind played him a tragic trick and he simply
walked off. We will find him wandering aimlessly some-
where.”

But both of the missing man’s sons—the second now
also had arrived—scoffed at that theory.

“Lieutenant,” the Pittsburgher said forcefully, “I respect
the psychiatrist’s sincerity. But I can’t accept the theory
of amnesia. My father’s mind was too orderly. Either he
was waylaid by someone who had a fanatical grudge
against him—or he has been kidnaped. I can’t believe
either theory is possible—he was loved by everyone.”

“All right,” Lieutenant Swann said. “We will work on
both theories. But, if it was kidnaping, we should have
heard from his abductor by this time. If this is a kid-
naping for ransom, there’s not much we can do but wait
for a contact. I don’t intend to wait.”

Swann promptly conferred with Jim D. Reynolds, FBI
agent-in-charge in Huntington.

“You know the law, Lieutenant,” the federal man said.
“Unless there’s definite proof that a federal violation has
been committed, we are prohibited from entering a sus-
pected kidnaping until the passage of a week. As of now
you have only a theory.”

“A week is a long time, when an old man’s life may be
at stake.” ‘

“I know,” Agent Reynolds agreed. “I merely stated the
provisions of the law. I didn’t say I intended to wait.”

Agent Reynolds took no chances. Despite the enactment
of the federal “Lindbergh Law” and “Little Lindbergh”
laws on the books of several states, kidnaping for ransom
continued, but less frequently. Reynolds said he did not
agree with the opinion of the psychiatrist. There had been
no notes left behind, no member of the family or any of
Seder’s associates had received a message. But now, in
secrecy, ten FBI agents, skilled in kidnap strategy, con-
verged upon Huntington and went to work.

At the same time Lieutenant Swann called upon the
Boy Scouts and by the end of day more than 600 young-
sters eagerly pursued a search plan that spoked out from
the city. The terrain itself posed a threat to the doctor’s
welfare, for there were the great Ohio River and the lesser

John Travis claimed he was forced into the crime

Orville Adkins was ca

ptured at Canada

Guyandot, while to the southwest and northeast were
wilderness pockets in the hills, desolate and rugged. In
these areas were numerous coal mines, including aban-
doned shafts.

By noon the next day, after questioning hundreds of
persons along the streets, the busy waterfront, the neigh-
borhood, and finding nothing helpful, the community began
to feel a keen awareness of possible tragedy. Dr. Seder
was greatly beloved in Huntington.

Shortly after the lunch hour, police headquarters re-
ceived a phone call from Murphysville, a small river town
60 miles up the Ohio River in Jackson County. Officials
there had located an amnesia victim who, they declared,
answered the description of the missing Dr. Seder. Local
radio broadcast the news, lifting the burden of tension from
Huntington’s shoulders. Lieutenant Swann drove fast to
the small town, entered the modest police station, but as
his eyes took in the bedraggled figure of the amnesia
victim he felt a shock of disappointment.

He picked up the telephone and informed Huntington,
“This is a sad mistake. The man is not Dr. Seder.”

The next day, Friday the 5th, brought two develop-
ments. A clerk in a hotel at Wayne, the county seat of
Wayne County which adjoined Huntington’s Cabell County

Arnett Booth not only bungled the kidnap
—even his hanging was a mess. When trap-
door dropped the platform collapsed. The
second time. Booth was hanged efficiently

on the south, approached Deputy U. S. Marshal M. E.
Ketchum. “Marshal,” he said hesitantly, “May not be
anything to this. But do you know Arnett Booth?”

“Somewhat. Why?”

“Well, he spent last night in our hotel. It’s unusual for
him to stay in a hotel. He checked out this morning. But
before he left, he bought twelve sandwiches. Had them
wrapped to go.”

“What's odd about that?”

“Well, I’ve known Booth a long time. He used to mine
coal in one of the workings up on Gragston Creek. He’s
been in a lot of trouble. Served a term in the pen for
attempted rape. I happen to know he never bought
sandwiches. He’s been in our restaurant many times over
the years. Always had some crack about people who ate
sandwiches. ‘Nobody but suckers buy sandwiches,’ he
always said.”

The marshal, a former sheriff of Wayne County, con-
sidered this as information from a man trying to help the
police, as well as on the premise of prejudice against the
former miner and ex-con. As he walked away from the
cafe the marshal thought about the 46-year-old Arnett
Booth, but he was unable to reconcile the man’s meager
intelligence with the plotting of a kidnapping.

He directed his car out into the county until he reached
Gragston Creek. Then he took to the tortuous rutted road
that followed its twisting bank. The country here was
extremely rugged, dotted occasionally by abandoned shan-
ties, once the homes of miners. Here and there a gloomy
cleft in the mountainside marked the yawning mouth of
a played-out coal mine. Every 50 yards or so the marshal
stopped his car, got out and listened intently. But he
neither heard nor saw anything that invited further in-
vestigation and after some four or five hours gave it up.

Returning to Wayne, Marshal Ketchum telephoned Lieu-
tenant Swann at Huntington about the sandwiches. Swann
relayed the information to Agent Reynolds, who pounced
on the possible lead. Within an hour he learned that
Arnett Booth was one of Dr. Seder’s tenants. He also
learned that, on the day following the old gentleman’s
disappearance, Booth had visited Dr. Seder’s office, asking
to see his landlord “on a matter of business.”

On being questioned, Booth appeared to be in the clear.
He admitted buying the sandwiches, declaring he had gone
rabbit hunting that day and that his reported dislike for
sandwiches was merely a jest, aimed at miners whose
wives did not think enough of their menfolks to fill their
dinner pails with a he-man’s meal.

The officers investigated each occupant of the doctor’s
rental apartments and houses during the next two days,
but only one ray of hope emerged. This developed when
Detectives Hagley and Farris and FBI Agent Roger Glea-
son were talking with a woman who lived on Park Avenue,
next door to one of the doctor’s properties. Detective Hag-
ley realized that her home was next door to the address
at which the doctor had made the appointment with the
painting contractor. Asked if she knew of any reason why
any tenant of Seder’s might want to do him harm, she
appeared uneasy.

“You seem upset,” Agent Gleason observed. “If you
have any information that might help us and fail to let
us have it, you could possibly be endangering your own
safety.”

The woman sighed. She glanced about as if to make
certain they were not overheard. “It’s my son, John Travis.
He got married only a week ago. I overheard him talking
to his wife. He said something about a man had threat-
ened to kill him so he’d be sure not to say anything.”

“Anything about what?”

“That’s all I heard. But, it’s worried me. My son’s wife
is worried, too.”

Agent Gleason left the concerned woman, after noting
her son’s place of employment, and drove directly to FBI
headquarters on Seventh Street. He stepped into the office
to find that the news everyone (Continued on page 67)


68

On the morning of the Lith a cryptic
message appeared in the personal
column: “Peg: Anxious to see you but
haven’t enough money to make the
trip. Write and advise. Am waiting call.
Sally.”

The officials and the Seder brothers
pondered the message. It had reached
the newpaper through the mails, with
two $1 bills attached to cover publica-
tion cost. It was proved to have been
prepared by the same hand that had
written the ransom note. But it provided
no clue.

“Apparently,” FBI agent Vetterli said,
“a message previous to this one has
been sent.”

“We've received nothing—other than
the ransom note in the mail,” the Seder
brothers told him.

“Well,” Agent Reynolds decided. “All
we can do is continue the search and
wait for the kidnaper’s message. Of
course it is possible the ransom note
was the work of a crank. It also is
possible that your father has been mur-
dered—from a motive known only to his
slayer.”

That same morning, 30 miles away
beyond Wayne, Albert Ronk went about
his barn duties in a disturbed frame of
mind. The sounds he had thought he
heard far up on Gragston Creek kept
haunting him until, around 9 o’clock, he
called his nephew from his corn shelling.
“Edgar, let’s walk back up the creek.
I’m_ worried.”

The two men struck out. An hour’s
walk placed them where they had
terminated their search for the calf the
previous afternoon. Here they paused.

“From right here, Edgar, I heard
those sounds. Seemed to come from up
on the side of the mountain.” Albert
pointed. Then he shouted.

“Be quiet,” his nephew cautioned. “I
hear something.”

“Maybe an echo?”

“No. It’s something else .. . A moaning
sound.”

Both men listened tautly. Faintly, from
far above, a low moan drifted down.

“That’s not a calf!” Edgar whispered.

“No, that’s a human being—a human
being badly hurt!”

The men climbed up the mountainside,
pausing occasionally to orient the sound
that came and went. By the time they
had climbed some 50 yards the sound
had ceased completely.

“I’m certain that was a human moan,”
Albert Ronk insisted, panting for breath.

“Whatever it was, it’s stopped now,”
Edgar said.

“Let’s wait here,” his uncle urged.

Then, faintly, the moan came again.
It sounded nearby. The two farmers
crashed eastward along the steep slope,
Albert Ronk calling out “We’re coming!
We’re coming!”

Near the mouth of an abandoned coal
mine they stopped and stared, horrified.
Before them, sprawled on the ground,
lay a man. His body was propped up
on an elbow, the other arm outstretched
in supplication. His face was a mask of
encrusted blood, the white hair black-
ened by gore. The old man moaned again.
Then his head dropped against the
stones. With an almost inaudible groan,
he lay still, his fingers clawing into the
sharp stones.

“It’s Dr. Seder! Edgar, hurry down to
the creek and wring out something in
the water—your shirt, your pants—
anything,” his uncle cried.

After working over the injured doctor
for many minutes, the two men suc-
ceeded in reviving him. His eyes rolled
uncertainly, seeing only a fog; his lips
struggled to form words. Finally, piti-
fully he murmured, “Thank God! You—

can’t know—what I have suffered!”

“You're all right now, Dr. Seder.
You're all right. Who did this to you?”

The stricken man succumbed again to
unconsciousness. Frantically his rescuers
worked over him. At last, his eyes slowly
ee He murmured faintly, “Thank

od—”

“Dr. Seder—we are your friends. Who
did this to you?” Ronk asked.

“Booth—Arnett Booth,” the
voice answered.

While Albert Ronk kept vigil, Edgar
made his way into Wayne, reaching
there around noon. The news was
phoned to Huntington. A rescue party,
including Dr. Glenn Johnston, rushed to
the abandoned mine and the desperately
injured Dr. Seder was hurried to a
hospital in the county seat.

During the afternoon the injured man
responded remarkably to treatment and,
after a few hours, he was able to
relate his harrowing experience. It had
endured for eleven days, although the
victim had lost track of the time during
the ordeal. In addition to naming the
man, Arnett Booth—one of his own
tenants—as the man who had lured him
from his apartment and later left him
for dead after a murderous assault in
the mine, Dr. Seder also was able to

faint

June issue of

Now on sale
at all newsstands

name the other two men—25-year-old
Orville Adkins and John Travis. Travis
it developed, was the young newlywed
whose mother had reported that his life
had been threatened.

The following afternoon Arnett Dil-
lon Booth and John Travis were tracked
down in Huntington and placed under
arrest. Brought to FBI headquarters,
where both men confessed to the crime,
Travis declared that Arnett Booth had
threatened to kill him because he feared
Travis would break under the tension.

After Travis had signed his confession,
he leaped for a window, bent upon
suicide, but Agent Gleason caught him
before he could succeed.

Booth admitted that, after having sent
the ransom note, he had lost courage
to follow it through. In a weak attempt
to begin anew, he had sent the message
to appear in the personal column of the
Huntington newspaper.

Orville Adkins, the third member of
the kidnaping trio, was captured the
following day in Canada, Kentucky, and
returned to Huntington, where all three
were charged with kidnaping Dr. Seder.
Thanks to the efforts of the farmer,
haunted by moans he had heard, the
aged man was rescued. But had the
victim not managed to drag himself out
of the abandoned mine into the light,
he might never have been found and
his disappearance remained forever a
mystery.

However, the aged doctor was not able

to survive his hideous ordeal. His right
eardrum had been ruptured. A blood
clot on the brain had produced paraly-
sis, affecting all of his left side. His
nose had been broken. His body was
covered with cuts and bruises. His feet
were fearfully swollen, and long ex-
posure had seriously affected him. How
he had managed to crawl from the mine
after suffering such a frightening ex-
perience was a miracle. Now pneumonia
had set in.

On November 15th, two weeks after he
vs been abducted, Dr. James L. Seder
died.

A check of the records revealed that
all three of the retired minister’s abduc-
tors were convicts on parole. Arnett
Dillion Booth had been released from
Moundsville Penitentiary the previous
January after serving ten months of a
5-year term for attempted rape of a
74-year-old woman. Three weeks before
the kidnaping he had been in trouble
in Huntington, over passing a bad check
at a local store. And it appeared that Dr.
Seder had straightened out the matter,
making good the $30 loss to the store-
keeper. This possibly was the “money
problem” to which Dr. Seder had
referred, in talking with a neighbor.

John Travis was paroled on July Ist
from the Mansfield, Ohio, reformatory,
to which he had been sentenced in
January, 1936, to 1-to-20 years for
automobile theft. Paroled at the same
time as Travis was Orville Adkins, also
under a 1-to-20 year sentence for auto-
mobile theft.

All three signed statements admitting
their part in the crime and naming
Booth as their leader. Following this,
Prosecuting Attorney Ernest E. Winters
Jr. announced that he would ask for
the death penalty for them, under the
new state kidnap law. Common Pleas
Judge H. Clay Warth ordered a special
grand jury empaneled. And since feeling
against the trio was running so high—
Booth, Adkins and Travis were trans-
ferred to the Kanawha County Jail at
Charleston for safekeeping.

On December 4th, Arnett Dillon Booth
went on trial. The trial lasted eight
days. Then the jury, after deliberating 58
minutes, returned a verdict of guilty,
making death by hanging mandatory.

On December 13th, John Travis and
Orville Adkins, pleading not guilty, went
on trial. Four days later the jury, after
42 minutes’ deliberation, decreed the
same fate for this pair.

On March 21, 1938, the trio went to
the gallows in the state penitentiary
at Moundsville. Booth was the first to
die, but fate had singled him out for a
double dose of justice. The platform
collapsed. The executioners had to repeat
their grim task. In effect, Arnett Dillon
Booth was hanged twice.

Following him through the trapdoor
beneath the gibbet were his companions
in the dastardly crime who, it was re-
vealed during the trial, had joined Booth
in setting up an elaborate scheme to kid-
nap for ransom a number of prominent
Huntington citizens and bury them in
abandoned coal mines. These prospective
victims escaped the fate of Dr. Seder
solely because Arnett Booth, ex-con, lost
his nerve, and the incredible courage
and determination of his first victim de-
feated him. oeo¢

Epitor’s Note '

The name, Graham Deane, as used
in the foregoing story, is not the
real name of the person concerned.
This person has been given a ficti-
tious name to protect his identity.

Fatal Sideshow
at Cape Canaveral

(Continued from page 17)

to force their way to a first-hand look
at the bloody spectacle on the floor.

Walker immediately assigned Patrol-
man R. L. McDonald and two other offi-
cers who had followed him to the
Starlite Motel when the alarm was
broadcast, to clear the room of all except
those who had witnessed the murder.
These latter he told to remain quietly in
their seats until they could be ques-
tioned.

Within a short time Sheriff James
Dunn, of Brevard County, accompanied
by Special Investigator Willard Winnett,
arrived at the motel.

Examination of the dead woman’s
body showed she had been hit by six
small caliber slugs. The medical exam-
iner said she had died instantly.

Among the first of the witnesses to be
questioned by Chief Walker was the
waitress with whom the victim had been
talking just prior to her death.

“Do you know who the man who shot
her was?” he asked.

The girl hesitated, then nodded. “I
think he was her former husband, but
I’m not certain,” she replied.

“Did you overhear anything that was
said between them?”

“Well, I heard the fellow ask her if
she was going to claim exemption on her
income tax for the kids and she said she
was.”

“The kids?” Walker queried. “What
kids?”

The girl said she supposed the man
meant Betty’s two sons.

‘Do you know her husband’s name?”

“Yes,” she replied, “it is Leonard
Folds.”

“Were they divorced or just sepa-
rated?”

The young woman replied that Betty
had obtained a divorce not long ago. And
further questioning brought out the in-
formation the man had threatened her
with a gun on at least two occasions and
that Betty had gone to court and forced
Folds to provide a peace bond requiring
him to stay away and leave her alone.

“Had he been around here before to-
night?” Walker asked.

“I never saw him before in this place.”

With the information obtained from
the waitress, it didn’t take long for
Walker to learn a great deal concerning
Leonard Folds and his divorced wife,
Betty. Even before questioning of the
other witnesses was completed, and long
before daylight, investigators had visited
the victim’s home and talked with
friends of Folds.

A sign painter by trade, the 32-year-
old ex-husband had been unemployed a
good deal of the time. Relatives and
friends of the couple knew of their dis-
agreements, violent quarrels, their es-
trangement and eventually the divorce.

Betty Folds, an attractive and shapely
brunette, was well known in the com-
munity. An early marriage had produced
two boys, now eight and seven years
old. For awhile when they were infants,
their father had worked at his trade and
supported the family to the best of his
ability. But as the years passed, he be-
came less attentive, spending much of
his time in bars.

Betty always had helped, going to
work as soon after the second child was
born as possible. With no training for

No. 11

Here is the first book
ever to chronicle the
exciting life story of
Roger Maris, the
most fabulous home-
run hero since Babe
Ruth. What was life
like for Roger as he
roared in pursuit of

BOOKS FREE!

Regularly 12 Books for °6-%°

Now a 20% Savings

SPECIAL OFFER 12 for $5.

BOB
COUSY
No. 12

Wherever basketball
is played, people
marvel at the mag-
nificent skills of Bob
Cousy. He is the man
who influenced the
sport more than any-
one else and who
pulled pro basketball

BOB COUSY

Ruth’s great home-
run record?

WILLIE wie MICKEY
MAYS MAYS MANTLE
No. 6 ae apa alngs mo No. 5

All the thrills of a
great player's first
decade in baseball!
That's the Willie Mays

to respected, big-
league status.

The candid, hard-hit-
ting story of The In-
dispensable Yankee.
. . . His success, his

story, from his birth [f° payee Focal a emo-

to the crashing Pres- Fee ape c- “ ls an

ent. The Say-Hey Kid [wesw is greatest moments

is sparking the San on the field.

Francisco Giants to fe

a possible pennant. “~~ FLOYD ri ;

BASEBALL’S [- ; FLOYD “=.
BEST Managers PATTERSON PATTERSON

MANAGER No. 7 -
No. 4 S The first book ever

In this package ac-
tion-packed stories on
Charlie Dressen, Leo
Durocher, Danny Mur-
taugh, Paul Richards
and Al Lopez.

Also available:

published about the
controversial up-and-
down career of heavy-
weight champion,
Floyd Patterson. it
covers all the facets
of his exciting life in-
cluding his off-stage
battles with his man-
ager Cus D'Amato.

No. 1 Johnny Unitas
No. 2 Stan Musial
No.3 Ted Williams

ONLY 50¢ EACH

No. 8 Best From Sport

No. 9 Warren Spahn

No. 10 Football’s Great-
est Quarterbacks

Please send me the
No. 1 Johnny Unitas

No. 2 Stan Musial ......

No. 3 Ted Williams .

following Sport Magazine Library Books:
No. 7 Floyd Patterson ............ —

No. 8 Best From Sport . :

No. 9 Warren Spahn

No. 4 Baseball's Best No. 10 Football’s Greatest
Managers .................. Quarterbacks ............ capeoaes

No. 5 Mickey Mantle ................ No. 11 Roger Maris ................ cco

No. 6 Willie Mays ....000.0000...... No. 12 Bob Cousy .................. a

T enclose 50¢ for each book plus 10¢ for postage and handling.
Send me the SPECIAL—all 12 books for $5 (enclose 50c for postage
and handling). a_s-\[V~

BARTHOLOMEW HOUSE,

INC., 205 E. 42nd St., New York 17, N. Y. MG-662


a ac penton

(Continued from page 64)
an absorbing hobby you’d searcely ex-
pect from a man in his profession.

He collects dolls.

He’s married, lives in a middle-class
part of Paris, and every time he hits
the street his right hand is gripping
a pistol in his coat pocket. And he’s
a crack shot.

“l’m always armed,” he has said.
“In the house, in my car and on the
street. There are too many people
who would like to see me disappear.”

His neighborhood is not a healthy
one in which to loiter. But several
months ago two brave—and persistent
—journalists finally ferreted out his
residence and waylaid him on the street
one Sunday morning. Obrecht, they
said, showed surprise, but no alarm.
He simply stopped and let them ap-
proach him—his hand never leaving
his gun pocket.

They were careful to make no funny
moves, and after some polite and dis-
creet conversation, they mentioned the
fact that recently there has been talk
in some quarters of doing away with
the guillotine. Obrecht agreed that
there was talk.

“The Machine,” he declared (his
name for the guillotine), “is the best
safeguard society has. Those who clam-
or for its suppression today, may be the
first to demand that it be brought back
tomorrow—if some horrible crimes oc-
cur. On several occasions The Machine
has not been used, and influential peo-
ple may have it banned in the future.
But I’m convinced it will not be rele-
gated to a museum.”

The executioner (called le bourreau
in France) doesn’t have his name on
his door. And most inhabitants of the
neighborhood don’t know who he is or
what he does. But the few in the know
look the other way when they see him
coming out in the morning to go to
work. The job he holds, besides his offi-
cial function as master of the guillotine,
is in a factory on the outskirts of Paris.
He is a precision mechanic.

Obrecht is no casual executioner, and
he didn’t get where he is by accident or
civil service examination. He worked
his way up through the ranks of the
dynasty of “men with red hands.” Be-
ginning 40 years ago, when he was
named assistant executioner, he
worked and waited 17 years, until
1939, to attain full rank—with only one
man, Henri Desfourneaux—between
him and the top of the heap.

During these 17 years he assisted at
362 executions!

There was only one break in his
service—from 1943 to 1945. He resigned
rather than execute persons he consid-
ered patriots. These were people con-
demned for Resistance work during the
German occupation. But at the end of
the war Obrecht took his job back. and
soon became chief executioner when
Desfourneaux died several years ago

: at the age of 74.

66

Obrecht never knows when he will
get an urgent message from the Min-
ister of Justice, telling him that there
is imminent work for The Widow, al-
though by keeping up with all the big
murder cases, he usually has an idea
when the death penalty is pretty sure
to be given. But even when he has a
head to chop off, he doesn’t miss a day’s
work at the factory.

On an execution day, while the city
is sleeping, he gets up early and arrives
at the prison gate an hour before dawn.
He is not a member of the prison staff,
so he has to knock, show his credentials
and wait for the gate to be opened for
him. His assistants are already there,
waiting for him. But once _ inside,
Obrecht is in charge.

There is no delay. Things go fast as
dawn breaks on a day like this. While
the doomed man is being given the last
rites by a priest, followed by a ciga-
rette and a glass of rum from the hands
of the chief jailer, Obrecht is setting up
the guillotine. It’s a delicate machine.

Then the prisoner is brought to the
execution chamber, and after his hands
have been tied behind his _ back,
Obrecht’s assistants pick up the doomed
man and place his body upon the plank
beneath the razor-sharp blade.

There is no count-down. Once the
body is in position, Obrecht is ready to
do his stuff without wasting any time.
He checks everything, hits the trigger,
and the blade slices down. The stroke
is exact and deadly. The head jumps
free of the body and drops into a basket
lined with sawdust to absorb the blood.
The assistants grab the body and drop
it into another long straw basket, then
immediately begin to wash up the blood
that’s on the floor.

Obrecht himself cleans The Widow—
swiftly but thoroughly, piece by piece
as he dismantles it; and when it is once
again spotless and gleaming, he care-
fully places the parts back in a special
corner. A curtain is drawn and the
deadly machine stays put until the next
time it’s needed.

Obrecht washes his hands meticu-
lously. Then he goes to the prison office
and signs a prepared statement saying
that the “execution has been carried
out as ordered.” A few minutes later he
is outside in the fresh air.

He gets into his car and drives back
across town; and at the corner of his
street he stops at a bakery for fresh
bread and croissants. These he takes
inside his apartment, where his wife is
making coffee. She knows from experi-
ence how long he will be away, and is
ready when he returns.

They sit down and have a quiet
breakfast.

Obrecht’s most celebrated victim was
the notorious Dr. Petiot, a mass-mur-
derer who slaughtered and dismem-
bered, it is said, some 26 persons during
the war. The execution took place on
May 25, 1946. The head chopping that
aroused the biggest storm of protest in

ix

Last Sept. 27th, Madame Andree Pebeyre
was sentenced to guillotine for torture-
murder of her three-year-old daughter.
If sentence is carried out, she will be
first woman to be beheaded since 1943

France in recent years was that of
Jacques Fesch, the ‘“cop-killer” who
was beheaded October 1, 1957. Women
wept and wrote hundreds of letters in
an effort to save his life—but the police
demanded his head as an example to
others.

Although women are rarely be-
headed these days, a couple of hundred
years ago there was no nonsense about
sex where the guillotine was concerned.
And some famous women have been
caressed by The Widow!

Marie Antoinette was a Queen—and
no matter what else may be said about
her, she at least died with the dignity
befitting a Queen. Of her it is written:
“On reaching the Place de la Revolu-
tion (Place de la Concorde), her face
at that moment gave signs of lively in-
terest. She ascended the scaffold with
courage enough; and at a quarter past
twelve her head fell. The executioner
showed it to the people amid universal,
long-continued cries of ‘Vive la Re-
publique!’ ”

The last time a woman was beheaded
in France was in 1943. She was con-
victed of criminal abortion. But now,
unless the French High Tribunal com-
mutes her sentence, The Widow will
have Mrs. Andree Pebeyre as its first
victim in almost 20 years. She was
convicted for the torture-murder of her
3-year-old daughter, Francoise, on Sep-
tember 27, 1961, and sentenced to death
in Cahors, France.

Andre Obrecht is ready. So is The
Widow. ry ys

West Virginia's
Bungling Kidnapers
Continued from page 61)

had feared had arrived.

During that morning in St. Paul, Min-
nesota, a postman dropped an innocent-
appearing envelope, bearing a Hunting-
ton cancellation dated November 6th,
into the mailbox at the home of Dr.
Seder’s son. It was addressed, in crude,
penciled printing, to the railroad official.

When the postman delivered the letter
to the son’s wife, she noticed the Hunt-
ington postmark. There was no return
address and, since her husband was now
in Huntington, where the letter had
been mailed, she went to the phone im-
mediately and placed a call to him.

“The letter is addressed to you, and
was mailed in Huntington since you ar-
rived there. I thought I’d better call,”
his wife explained.

A premonition that his instincts had
been correct assailed the younger Seder.
“Open it,” he said. “Read it to me.”

He heard over the phone the sound
of paper tearing as she opened the en-
velope. Then a moan from his wife came
over the wire. “It's—a ransom note!
Somebody wants $40,000 for the return
of your father!”

At this point FBI Agent Reynolds took
over. The note was rushed to Hunting-
ton, but no publicity was given to the
development. Reynolds advised Agent
R. E. Vetterli of the New York FBI office,
one of the brilliant minds in handling
kidnap cases. He hurried at once to
Huntington.

The crudely hand-printed note stated
that Dr. Seder was safe, was being held
and well cared for, and would be given

his freedom upon the payment of $40,000 |

in cash. The Seder family was to watch
the personal columns of the Huntington
morning paper for further instructions.

Authorities did not question the gen-
uineness of the note. Eight days had
passed, long enough for hoaxers to have
been heard from, but that had not
happened. The only two suspects, both
considered decidedly
Booth and the newly-wed John Travis—
were shadowed diligently. Agents were
posted at the newspaper's office, ready
to intercept and question anyone who
brought in an advertisement designed

weak—Arnett |

for the personal columns.

By the ninth day, with the disappear- |
ance headlined throughout the country, |

Huntington officers had cleared reports

of missing persons discovered in various |

cities of the nation. The matter of the
Iowa license plate was revived on the
afternoon of the 9th, when Chief of
Detectives John Brophy of Des Moines

telephoned that he was holding an)
unidentified elderly man who said he ;
was from Huntington. The man was :

telling the truth—but he was not Dr.
James I. Seder.

In the late afternoon of November
10, 1937, two farmers, Albert Ronk and
his nephew, Edgar Ronk, went searching
for a stray calf on Gragston Creek. By

dusk they found themselves far up the |
ravine and as they turned to retrace |

their journey the elderly Ronk stopped,
his hands cupped to his ears. “Do you
hear that, Edgar?” he asked.

Edgar strained his ears. “I don’t hear
a thing. All I know is, I'm cold.”

“Thought I heard somebody calling,”
his uncle said. “But maybe it was just
the wind.”

KNOWLEDGE

THAT HAS
ENDURED WITH THE
PYRAMIDS

A SECRET METHOD FOR
THE MASTERY OF LIFE

HENCE came the knowledge that built the Pyramids and the
WY sssney Temples of the Pharaohs? Civilization began in the

Nile Valley centuries ago. Where did its first builders ac-
quire their astounding wisdom that started man on his upward
climb? Beginning with naught they overcame natures forces and
gave the world its first sciences and arts. Did their knowledge come
from a race now submerged beneath the sea, or were they touched
with Infinite inspiration? From what concealed source came the
wisdom that produced such characters as Amenhotep IV, Leonardo
da Vinci, Isaac Newton, and a host of others?
Today it is known that they discovered and learned to interpret
certain Secret Methods for the development of their inner power of
mind. They learned to command the inner forces within their own
beings, and to master life. This secret art of living has been pre-
served and handed down throughout the ages. Today it is extended
to those who dare to use its profound principles to meet and solve
the problems of life in these complex times.

This Sealed Book — FREE

Has life brought you that personal satisfaction, the sense of achievement and
happiness that you desire? If not, it is your duty to yourself to learn about
this rational method of applying natural laws for the mastery of life. To the
thoughtful person it is obvious that everyone cannot be entrusted with an
intimate knowledge of the mysteries of life, for everyone is not — of
roperly using it. But if you are one of those possessed of a true desire to
‘orge ahead and wish to make use of the subtle influences of life, the
Rosicrucians (not a religious organization) will send you a Sealed Book of
explanation without obligation. This Sealed Book tells how you, in the
privacy of your own home, without interference with your personal affairs
or manner of living, may receive these secret teachings. Not weitd or strange
practices, but a rational application of the basic laws of life. To obtain your
complimentary copy use the coupon below or address Scribe J.6.D.

She ROSICRUCIANS

SAN JOSE (AMORC) CALIFORNIA
aeeeneee es a a
Scribe: J.6.D. Use this
The Rosicrucians (AMORC) coupon for
San Jose, California :
Please send free corr of Seal:d Book, which : FREE
I shall read as directed. copy of book

Name AMENHOTEP IV
Address FOUNDER OF EGYPT'S

_ MYSTERY SCHOOLS
Ciry. :


vays took one

suffered from
zht of his own
itenant Swann
it was certain
» before dawn

nand for ran-
the investiga-

lived in Pitts-
escriptive pos-
within a 500-
the aged min-
| be seen and

2 man, six feet
erect carriage.
h heavy lenses.
overcoat, dark
ngs were miss-

in Wednesday
ious furor, for
West Virginia

in Indian mas-
hild was three
and later went
1 business and
to the ministry.
‘entral College,
pan as a mis-
years. Subse-
Viilwaukee and
Dr. Seder

n

’

ian 2 é
wets oo .

_ Alles es

ta

undoubtedly had made many enemies. Beginning in 1905,
he had served as state superintendent of the Anti-Saloon
League in New Mexico, Wisconsin, Massachusetts, coming to

West Virginia in that capacity in 1924.
On Wednesday, November 3rd, Willard Seder, the clergy-

man’s son, who was general superintendent of the Rankin

Works of the Bethlehem Steel Corporation, arrived in Hunt-
ington and requested the Federal Bureau of Investigation
at Washington to assign G-men to the case.

Although no attempt had been made to communicate with
the family, Willard Seder was convinced his father had been
kidnaped. ‘He agreed with Lieutenant Swann and J. D. Rey-
nolds, Special Agent in Charge of the FBI office at Hunting-
ton, that if his father were an amnesia victim it was unlikely
he would carry his bedclothing away with him.

So the son immediately summoned his brother, Arthur Ray-
mond Seder, from St. Paul, and his sister and her husband,
Allen T. Burns, from New York City. Burns was executive
vice-president. of the National Association of Community
Chests.

G-man Reynolds explained to Dr. Seder’s worried family
that the Federal kidnaping statute provides that there is
a violation when the United States mails are ‘used or when
the victim is transported across a state line. He pointed out,
however, that it is the policy of the FBI to investigate a kid-
naping case from its inception with the cooperation of the
local law enforcement officers in the belief that there may
develop a Federal angle. Reynolds supplied the family with
cellophane envelopes and these instructions:

“If a ransom demand is received, see that only one
person handles the letter. Place the envelope and each sheet
of the letter in a separate cellophane envelope, and bring
them at once to me for examination for fingerprints. Say
nothing about it to the press or to any one but the police,
with whom we work in close cooperation.”

Although the family waited, days passed without word.
On November 6th, a report that Dr. Seder had been seen
near Ravenswood proved unfounded, and next day an aged

Attracted by a feeble cry
for help, Albert Ronk
(right) hurried to the en-
trance of an abandoned
mine (above) and found
a dazed and trembling
man, crawling painfully
along on hands and knees


22 True Detective Mysteries

man who had been seen walking near Spring Valley likewise
proved not to be the missing man.

But on Monday, November 8th, a break came. Mrs.
Burns, who had been staying at a Huntington hotel with her
husband and brothers, went to her father’s home at eleven
o’clock in the morning. Looking in the mailbox she saw
several letters and, after carefully extracting them, took tem
into the house for closer examination.

One letter, crudely addressed in pencil to ‘“Ramond
Sedar,” attracted her attention. It was postmarked “Hunt-
ington, November 6th.”

Wonderingly, she opened it. In accordance with Special
Agent in Charge Reynolds’ advice, she held the sheets at
the corner between her thumb and forefinger, then read:

Ramond Sedar: Your father is being held for $30,000
ransom—now hold level head—call all law off—pretend you
found him in St. Paul. He wrote you. a letter here leat
Wed. Morn to 1375 of 1175 N. Cleveland street, St. Paul.
No, Ramond, its up to you when you see the old gent again
—you get this money all used bills no serial no’s taken
$15,000 in five dollar bills, $18,000 in ten dollar bills,
$17,000 twenty dollar bills. We hold old gent one week
after we get the money se we can erchange it. If one of
my companions get caught erchanging this money then dont
expect to see him alive again. Now we want axion now at
once. When you get the money. ready put this add in
Huntington Advertiser special notice colum (Peg—Am wait-
ing call. Sally) When the add appears then you will get
full instructions until then you can hear no more. He has
red cane 2 double blankets a comfort i dark blanket woll |
say he had it 40 years. Act at once and dont for get if you
dont follow instructions you will not see him alive again.

Two statements in the letter convinced Mrs. Burns that
the writer either had her father, or knew where he was. She
knew one of the missing bed coverings was forty years old,
having heard her mother tell how it was given to them by
the sewing circle in one of her father’s churches. A hasty
search of the house showed that Dr. Seder’s red cane was
missing, a. fact previously overlooked. ,

Mrs. Burns summoned her husband and brothers and read
the letter to them, this time through the cellophane. Then
the quartet took it to the FBI office on the seventh floor of
the West Virginia Building.. Special Agent in Charge Rey-
nolds summoned Lieutenant Swann.

“With this letter we can plan our future action,” he said.

In a few minutes, Reynolds was talking over the tele-
phone with his Chief, J. Edgar Hoover, in the national capi-
tal. Within the hour, eleven FBI agents were headed for
Huntington. R. E. Vetterli, of the New York office, a sea-
soned manhunter, veteran of many big criminal cases, was
ordered to take charge upon his arrival.

Reynolds’ trained eye noted several things in connection
with the ransom note. It was written on the stationery of
the size and ‘quality usually furnished by hotels to their
guests, with the name of the hostelry cut from each sheet.
A hotel envelope had not been employed. The envelope was
of the type sold by 5 and 10 cent stores. It was imperfect
in one fold on the flap, because the knife blade that cut it
was dull.

: 1 WU
|_f 1 WNW

LTRISTATE HOTEL vores

MW ya

ce miabailll

He also observed that although the ransom note started
out by demanding $30,000, the detailed specification of de-
nomination of bills totaled $50,000.

Quietly and without ostentation, G-men began to: con-
verge upon Huntington Tuesday morning.

Newspapermen did not know of their presence. They reg-
istered at three different hotels—young, well-dressed, polished
gentlemen who might belong to any profession or calling.
They did not report at the regional offices. They merely
checked in and reported their arrival to Special Agent in
Charge Reynolds.

Dr. Seder’s sons informed G-men that it would be very
difficult for them to pay ransom in the amount demanded.
They said the family was not wealthy in the sense that a
demand for $50,000 could be complied with immediately.

The Federal men, anxious that the kidnapers should not
harm Dr. Seder pending contact with them, decided to play
for time. So, taking the suggested “Peg—Am waiting call.
Sally” text, they rephrased it and inserted this advertisement
in the personal columns of both Huntington dailies on No-
vember 11th, which was Thursday:

PEG: Anxious to see you but haven’t enough money to
make the trip. Write and advise. Am waiting ‘call. SALLY.

A the same time, it was given out in the news columns
that the Seder brothers had returned to their respective
homes in St. Paul and Pittsburgh, and that Mrs. Burns had
moved from the hotel to her father’s home. The G-men’s
design behind this information was to induce the kidnapers
to think the boys had gone to raise the $50,000 ransom, and
that the daughter would be available to receive a telephonic
communication from them in a less public place than a hotel.

At 4:30 o’clock Thursday afternoon, Max Bunn, a resident
of Wayne, which is twenty-five miles from Huntington, tele-
phoned the Huntington Herald-Dispatch that a farmer had
come into town and reported the finding of an aged man
in the hills. Bunn said he believed the description was much
like that of the “missing Dr. Seder.”

At the request of the city editor, Bunn called Albert Ronk,
the farmer, to the telephone. He described the man and the
description coincided closely with that of the cleric. Ronk
had not inquired the man’s name.

“He told me he had been: bound and gagged and thrown
in an abandoned mine,” Ronk related. :

The farmer said he was leaving immediately with a rescue

(Above, left to right) Lieutenant Leslie
J. Swann, Huntington Police Department;
Special Agent R. E. Vetterli and J. D.’
Reynolds, Special Agent in Charge of the
Huntington, West Virginia, FBI office

wt

21peyy e
| j

‘(Left) At this hotel in Kenova, West
Virginia, detectives traced the purchase

-. of sandwiches made by the kidnapers

party to lo«
The editor
all available
What had
nesday, Albe
farm and fc
miles from \
man’s voice.
Coming a
frightened by)
tried to loca:
day morning
Edgar, to ac
Retracing
near an aba
nephew enter
they suddenl:
“Lord, son
Hurrying t
crawling on +
clearly. The
plus his weig!
ble for them
then gone tc
Deputy Unit:
Johnson, Wil!
Marshal K
recognized as
mine. That
rocks and tre
and between
old comforter
lying on the
The minist:
beating. His
tion on his he
battered and
When aske:
on the Mond
sandwiches. ]
weakened cor
the tight thon
“Someone |

_ Seder mumbl

abductors.

(Above
Seder’s
mysteric
cates th
headed

On a p
deserted
the first

24 True Detective Mysteries

(Above) Dejectedly a trio of kidnaping
suspects, securely manacled, face the cam-
era after ‘their arrest. (1) Orville Ad-
kins, (2) Arnett Booth, (3) John Travis

(Right) These two officers picked up the
bald-headed suspect while he was calmly
listening to the radio.. They are Detec-
tives Roy Hagley and Harry Farris (right)

Dr. Seder requested that some sugar be placed in the milk.
His wish was complied with. The Special Agent, giving him
but small sips at a time, held the glass while he drank until
all was consumed:

“T’m hungry,” the minister whispered weakly when the
milk was ‘gone. He was not given more food at that time
as it was felt that his physical condition made it unsafe.

Federal men took charge of the situation, refused to per-
mit any further questioning of the weakened cleric, and or-
dered him rushed to Memorial Hospital at Huntington, where
an FBI guard was stationed.

Members of the rescue party were questioned in an ante-
room of Dr. Johnson’s office, and agents were assigned to
various phases of the investigation. One group was sent to
the hillside mine, Albert Ronk accompanying them as a
guide.

Special Agents searched the mine for fingerprints, and con-
fiscated several pieces of bloodstained slag, a pillow, a crim-
son-splotched slip, a dark plaid blanket, another blanket, a
gray felt hat, an empty cigarette package of a cheap brand,
two pieces of letterhead writing paper of a Huntington hotel,
a handbill of the Miller Paint Manufacturing Company, some
fiber and burned pieces of paper.

T was apparent the aged victim had made a bed of sorts

on the damp floor of the mine, where he had suffered for
ten days in weather that was at all times below freezing.

As soon as Dr. Seder was made comfortable at Memorial
Hospital, Special Agents took charge of his black overcoat,
dark gray suit coat, bloodstained shirt, blood-stained de-
tachable linen collar, two handkerchiefs, a paper napkin, a
red and black checked negktie and a suit of underwear. The
napkin was in the overcoat pocket. One of the handkerchiefs
was knotted at each of the four corners.

The articles were turned over to subordinates for chemical
analysis of the bloodstains and possible fingerprints.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Swann was
busy checking the lead furnished by Dr.
Seder concerning the bald-headed man
who lived in his apartment. The officer
recalled that Arnett Allen Booth, a
small, bald, truck driver occupied a
suite in the cleric’s apartment house.
Three weeks previously, Booth had been
questioned concerning the passing of a
bad check at the C. M. Morrison and
Sons store in Huntington. Swann re-
called that Dr. Seder had straightened
out the affair by making good the loss.

Was this the matter to which the
kidnap victim had referred? Or was
it merely the incoherent rambling of
a dazed man? For Booth had been

uestioned again on November Sth, at
the very hour that the ransom note had
been received, had looked Seder’s sons
squarely in the eye and had emphati-
cally declared that he thought very
highly of their father and would not

think of harming even so much as a hair of his head.

Had he been lying?

Quickly Lieutenant Swann dispatched Detectives Farris
and Hagley to pick up Booth. Accompanied by two FBI
agents, they found the truck driver sitting in an easy chair
listening to a radio program. His eyes popped when the
detectives informed him that he was wanted at Head-
quarters. Mildly protesting, he was hustled out of the apart-
ment by Hagley. and Farris.

Special Agents remained behind to search Booth’s apart-
ment. They went over the rooms with a fine-tooth comb.
Their first discovery showed that a woman had been sharing
the apartment with the man, for make-up articles and un.
der garments were strewn about the place. Continuing their
search, they then uncovered a package of cheap, plain en-
velopes.

One of the men gave a low whistle. “Tl hustle these in
to the boss,” he said. “They look interesting.”

“Okay,” his companion agreed, “I’ll check the neighbors.”

As the first agent hurried to Headquarters, his partner

-began his rounds. Soon he learned that two men, both

younger than Booth, had been visiting him daily up until
the time of the kidnaping.

“They were up to see him morning, noon and night,” de-
clared Mrs. T. A. Keller who lived in the same building.
“They were always going in and out.”

Inasmuch as Dr. Seder had stated that he had been ab-
ducted by three men, that information sounded important.
Under questioning, Mrs. Keller then revealed that a girl had
been keeping house for Booth.

“She was pretty, petite and young. I’ve seen her about
town/ It runs in my mind that she used to be a waitress.”’

Further than this, however, the Special Agent could learn
nothing more about the visitors to the apartment.

Meanwhile, Booth had been removed to FBI Headquar-
ters in the West Virginia Building, and was being questioned

by Spec
They di
with the
was calli

He sei
several 1
inquisitic

“Jim,
as the
“They’re
reputatic
same ma

EYN(
bund
Booth’s ¢
“They
grinned.
Reynol
ones side
each.
“What
people rig
their hom
“Maybe
shoulders,
his nerve
“Tf you
the ransor
handwriti
“Sure J
Furnish:
agent dict
was waitir
than his }
Booth a

letters slop;

words “actic
“How do
quired Rey:
product.
“A-x-i-o-n
fidently.
“So did
that ranson
man. “The.
Booth bli;
reply.
“Handcuff
back to jail
ing to Lieute
him with the
That will me
“Wait a
Booth as Sy
“I might as
note.”
Swann and
“But: I di

om note started
‘eification of de-

began to con-

ence. They reg-
dressed, polished
‘ssion or calling.
s. They merely
Special Agent in

t would be very
1ount demanded.
the sense that a
immediately.
ipers should not
decided to play
Am waiting call.
lis advertisement
n daihes on No-

1ough money to
g call. SALLY.

he news columns
) their respective
Mrs. Burns had
. The G-men’s
ce the kidnapers
‘000 ransom, and
eive a telephonic
iace than a hotel.
Bunn, a resident
Huntington, tele-
iat a farmer had
of an aged man
‘iption was much

led Albert Ronk,
the man and the
he cleric. Ronk

zged and thrown

‘ly with a rescue

ant Leslie

2=partment;
and J. D.°
arge of the
FBI office

ova, West
2 purchase
kidnapers

SSS Maney so Be 2 allay:

Kidnap Torture! 23

party to locate the aged man and bring him to Wayne.

The editor notified Lieutenant Swann. Soon the latter and
all available G-men were hurrying to the small county seat.

What had happened was this: On the previous day, Wed-
nesday, Albert Ronk was walking down the road near his
farm and found himself on the desolate mountainside six
miles from Wayne. Suddenly he heard the feeble ery of a
man’s voice.

Coming as it did from the remote hillside, Ronk was
frightened by it. Not wishing to investigate by himself, he
tried to locate assistance, but was unsuccessful. On Thurs-
day morning, however, he was able to persuade his nephew,
Edgar, to accompany him.

Retracing his steps, Ronk located the origin of the sound
near an abandoned coal mine on his farm. As he and his
nephew entered a patch of woods, a half mile from the road,
they suddenly heard a voice.

“Lord, somebody come to me,” it moaned.

Hurrying to the mine entrance, they found an old man,
crawling on the slope. He was bruised and could not talk
clearly. The Ronks saw at once that his weakened condition,
plus his weight of nearly 200 pounds, would make it impossi-
ble for them to get him out without help. Albert Ronk had
then gone to Wayne, and had obtained the assistance of
Deputy United States Marshal M. E. Ketchum, Dr. Glenn
Johnson, William Dixon and Ira Rutherford.

Marshal Ketchum found the man, whom he immediately
recognized as Dr. Seder, twenty feet from the mouth of the
mine. That twenty feet was steep and covered with slag,
rocks and trees. A blanket was at the entrance to the mine,
and between the blanket and Dr. Seder was the forty-year-
old comforter.. Dr. Seder had one shoe on, and the other was
lying on the blanket.

The minister looked as though he had suffered a severe
beating. His eyes were blackened and there was a lacera-
tion on his head. His nose was badly bruised, his mouth was
battered and there was blood on his shirt.

When asked when he had eaten last, the cleric said “It was
on the Monday before,” when he had been given some dry
sandwiches. It seemed. miraculous that the aged man, in his
weakened condition, had been able to free himself from
the tight thongs that had bound him.

“Someone brought me here. I’ve been kidnaped,” Dr.
Seder mumbled. Ketchum inquired if he knew any of the
abductors.

(Above) Lower arrow points to Dr.
Seder’s apartment, from which he was
mysteriously snatched; upper arrow indi-
cates the quarters occupied by the bald-
headed man who figured in the case

On a pile of old rags in a closet of a
deserted shack (right) Dr. Seder spent
the first few hours of his imprisonment

“Yes, I know one of the three well,” he replied. “I can’t
recall his name, but he lives in one of my apartments. He
is bald-headed and he gave me a check. I didn’t think of
anything being wrong. He told me that he wanted me to
come to Wayne to see some of his people to get the money
to pay off the check.

“After we turned off the main road I got suspicious. When
they told me to get out of the car I refused and they threw
something over my face and head and they took me to some
old house where they kept me for some while. Later they
took me to the mine.”

After Dr. Seder had been lifted into the waiting automobile,
he said to his rescuers: “Gentlemen, to be with you, to hear
you talk, and to be taken out of here is like being in Heaven.”

At Wayne, Dr. Seder’s arrival produced high excitement.
Ketchum, driving the car, sped through the courthouse square
in the center of town without stopping and went directly to
the office of Dr. Johnson more than a block away. .

There, the FBI men, Lieutenant Swann and his detectives,
Willard Seder and newspapermen and photographers were
waiting.

Reaching the driveway in front of Dr. Johnson’s office,
Ketchum skidded to a stop and jumped from the automobile.

“Ts it Dr. Seder?” someone shouted from the crowd that
had followed.

“There is no doubt about it,” Ketchum replied. “It is
Dr. Seder.”

The crowd swarmed around the automobile.

“Stand back, everybody,” Ketchum shouted. “This old
gentleman is in bad shape.”

FBI agents and detectives formed a ring about the au-
tomobile. Dr. Seder began to cry out as though he were
suffering.

“You are all right, Doctor,” Dr. Johnson told him. “Don’t
worry.”

R. SEDER appeared helpless to assist himself during his

removal from the rear seat of the sedan and it was sev-
eral minutes before he was lifted outside in the arms of his
son and several others.

Willard Seder, his voice choked with emotion, whispered
“Father,” as he embraced him.

“Do you know me?” the son asked. Tears filled his eyes
as he regarded his father intently. The cleric looked into his
face and said:

“It’s Willard. It’s Willard.”

“Yes, it’s I, Father,” the son replied. “You are all right
now. Everything is all right. You are going to be just fine.”

Dr. Seder held tightly to his son’s hand.

“Arthur and all the family are in Huntington, Father,” the

son continued. “‘All will be so happy to see you.”

“Thank God,” the minister murmured, weakly. “Thank
God. It is like Heaven to be here, Willard. It is like Heaven.”

Dr. Seder expressed a desire for food. One of the FBI
men obtained a glass of milk. Dr. Seder drank a portion of
it eagerly. The G-man made him stop.

“Let’s take it a little easy, sir,” he admonished.


:, I became all the more determined
at it. -

vo weeks later I was Packing in
excitement, Daddy had given in.
's to go to school in New Jersey
live with some relatives of my

vas right. I was at School only a
4 before I went to my first night
in New York. How I loved it!

hin a few weeks I was trying to

glamorous and attractive. Men
bpeared to have stepped straight
1 movie screen,

ngely enough, I had had none

pe eee

hile Johnny Travis, right, passed
3 last hours in a death cell,-a
young bride Prayed...


aloose. I got a little place in mind for
him.” We woke him up and Booth
slugged him a couple of times and put
him to sleep again. We drove up in the
hills 10, or 15 miles and we carried the
old man up a big hill, to a sort of a cave.
Booth said it was an old mine and he had
worked there. He tied the old man inside
the mine and told us to leave him and
come outside. Then he picked up a big
piece of slate rock and threw it at Dr.
Seder. It hit him on the head. It made
me sick. Booth laughed again. He said
‘I’m not finished yet.’ He picked up
more rocks and kept throwing them.
Every one hit the old man. Finally I

couldn’t watch any more. I walked down .

the hill with Orville. After a while Booth
came down the hill. He said ‘I had to do
it, boys. The old doc knew me. He’s
dead now, or he will be pretty soon.’

police post at Arctic Red river, and
erupted in a torrent of complaint to Con-
stable A. W. King.

“My name eez Joseph Languerre. I
am trap’ on Rat river. You know me,
huh? Good! Well, up there ees craz’
white man. Hees pull our traps, hang
‘um in tree. Hees takum gun... say
beat to hell from dere, pronto!”

“Johnson again!” snapped King to his
aide, Constable R. G. McDowell. “Let’s
have a look-see.”

Now, pointing guns at the other fellow
isn’t considered polite even in the North-
land, but if there’s one sin worse than
another—unless it is stealing a man’s
grub cache—it’s interfering with his trap-
line.

Twenty-four hours later, Constables
King and McDowell were racing their
dogs through a howling storm with the
mercury at 40-below on the 60-mile mush
to the Rat river. Even with the protec-
tion of their heavy parkas and mitts, the
wind hit them as though they ran naked.
The driven snow stung like bird-shot
and the keen cold bit through their muk-
luks into the flesh on legs and feet.

Twenty miles up the Rat river, where
it joins the Husky, they hit Johnson’s
cabin. High on the ‘north bank of the
river it stood, commanding a view up
and down stream, squat, menacing, a
very fortress in the wilderness, its logs
unusually thick and heavy.

Silence reigned about the cabin. And
as they drew near the two policemen
noticed that the lower half of the place
was constructed of double logs, and that
in each corner a loophole had been cut.
Whoever he was, this Johnson didn’t
intend to be caught napping!

“Crazy with the usual trouble, loneli-
ness,” King muttered, battering with his
fist on the heavy log door.

Silence . . . only the roaring of the
blizzard through the clearing. King
pounded again.

“We know he’s in because there are
no tracks out,” McDowell laughed.
“Maybe he’s deaf as well as crazy!”

But from behind that barred door no
answer came. Disgusted, since they had
no warrant with them that would have
authorized their breaking down the door,
they mushed the long trail back to Arctic
Red river post.

They were back again, knocking once

“I was fed up with the whole thing
and I didn’t want any part of the ransom
money. But I was afraid of Booth and
so was Orville. So we kept going to his
farm to find out if the ransom was paid
yet. The ransom never came. Booth
thought you G-men was watching him so
he was afraid to do anything about try-
ing to collect the money. I was afraid
to go back to the mine, but I kept hoping
Dr. Seder wasn’t dead and that he would
get away.”

News of the copes spread rapidly
and toward nightfall crowds of men
began to collect near the jail. “We want
Booth! ... Let us take care of them!”
cried the men of -the community who
had known and loved Dr. Seder. Vetterli
ordered the trio spirited away to the
Kanawha county jail at Charlestown,
W. Va.

Fiend of Rat River

[Cantinued from page 17]

more on that silent door, on the last day
of the year. ‘And again the silent cabin
met them with unwinking eyes.

“Johnson! we're policemen,” King
called. “We have a warrant this time.
Open up, or we'll break in.”

Silence was their answer.

“All right! Have it your way, then,”
yelled the now thoroughly exasperated
Mountie. “Here goes!” and he swung
his heavy axe aloft.

Crash! the report of a gun thundered
through the. silent clearing. Shot just
below the heart by the heavy bullet fired
at close range, King spun around,
dropped like a log into the snow at the
cabin’s door!

And from that mad-man’s fortress of
the Rat river, only silence again!

McDowell, face down in the snow
where he had flung himself as the rifle
roared, edged himself toward his fellow-
officer’s side, expecting the move to be
his last. But no further shot shattered
the silence. Carefully, he dragged the
wounded man down the bank, gave him
such emergency treatment as was: pos-

sible, then, with his comrade strapped’
to the sleigh, he lashed his malamutes.

northward down ‘the Husky river. for the
80-mile trek to the nearest medical aid.
Dr. J. W. Urquhart, at Aklavik post. °

WENTY-ONE hours later, at the
point of collapse, the gallant Mountie
staggered into Aklavik, 80 miles in 21
hours, in the teeth of a winter’s gale, with

_ frequent stops to administer aid to his

suffering comrade! An epic of courage
that the North remembers still; and the
algal the saving of Constable King’s
ife.

And now the Northland rose in all its
fury. A potential killer was loose in
the white wilderness, and no man’s life
was safe. For once, man was at enmity
with man, and Nature held all the cards!

Inspector A. N, Eames, in command
of the Northwest division, went into
action at once. Short-wave radio ordered
Mounties into Aklavik, from Arctic, Red
and other posts. Hardy trappers were
invited to lend their aid in rounding up
this madman whose gun was his only
voice when authority challenged.

It was the worst part of the winter,
the season when Arctic blizzards with-

oll laa jad 8 a 3 a Saath A lla ite dea

Meanwhile, at a Huntington hospital,
Dr. Seder fought for his life. But the
superhuman strength which had kept the
elderly man alive through ten days of
fiendish torture could carry him no
further. Four days after he was found
he died.

Booth continued his sullen silence
without a break after the one confession,
At his trial he discovered that he was
as insane as Travis was remorseful.
Neither availed them and within a month
of their capture the kidnap gang stood
before Judge H. Clay Warth and heard
the law’s fateful words:

“I sentence you to be hanged by the

‘ necks until dead.”

And on March 21, Booth and his two
companions, Travis and Adkins, walked
up the 13 fateful steps of the gallows
and plunged to their deserved doom.

out end lashed the frozen tundra and
howled down the tortured canyons. But
Eames and his party ‘took the trail, the
posse including Constables Millen and
McDowell, trappers Noel Verville, Frank
Lang and C, Gardlund, and a couple of
Indians.

Dynamite was included in the load the
big sleds carried, when the whimpering
dogs, after four desperate days of mush-
ing against a blizzard that never for an
instant let up, dropped in the snow below
the high bank on which Johnson’s cabin
stood.

Posting his men around the clearing,
Eames gave Johnson his last chance to
surrender:

“It’s no use, Johnson. You haven't a
chance. Come out now, before worse
happens to you.”

And for answer, all he got was the
crack of the mystery man’s rifle!

“Millen and McDowell. You smash in
the door while the rest cover your at-

‘tack,” the inspector ordered.

In a blaze of rifle-fire the two men
raced for the door, battering away at it
with their gun-butts, while inside John-
son maintained a rapid fire at the posse.
But the stout door refused to yield suf-
ficiently to provide an entry, though a
few of its heavy boards did give way,
and Millen, peering into the smoke-filled
interior, saw that the cabin floor had
been dug three feet below ground level,
giving its occupant the protection of the
double walls of logs against rifle fire.

Eames, fearful for the safety of his
men, called them off. He would try to
bomb the place. But even the dynamite,
roughly made into bombs, failed to win
an entrance into this wilderness fort.
True, the door showed evidence of the
assault upon it, and the roof was splin-
tered and torn, but the place still held,
firm, impregnable.

And now a new force halted the posse
—lack of supplies.

The four days on the trail, unexpected
as they were, had taken heavy toll of
food for both men and dogs, and they
were four possible days mushing back to
Aklavik, if the blizzard held.

“No use, boys,” Eames decided. “I
can’t have you all die on the trail just
for this madman. We’ve got to head back
at once. We'll get him later... here
or elsewhere!”

57

EES SERA R TE TON INNER

a ea

a

Es ee

Vol. 8, No 45

ay

act Stories from Official Sources

THE MONTH'S BEST CASES Way 2
in America ees

TORTURE KIDNAP! «sce bit a vel By John Shirley ©
West Virginia— Torture and death await a retired minister in an ©, pee

abandoned mine until G-men bring the kidnapers to justice.

PASSION PLOT OF VIRGINIA’S ILLICIT LOVERS....---

re ek By Sheriff Frank D. Mays and Walden Snell 10

Virginia—Y outhful passion leads to a crimson murder but a keen-
witted sheriff solves the mystery.

TRAILING THE FIEND OF RAT RIVER - By Harry F. Mullett 14
Canada—A mysterious stranger defies Canadian Mounted Police
until, true to tradition, they get their man.

CALIFORNIA’S RIDDLE OF THE MISSING NURSE ...:--
SO, , ning hss Rabe Ae Oo By Kate O’Connor 18
San Francisco—A beautiful girl disappears, leading police on the

trail of a heartless murderer. '

WISCONSIN’S BANDIT KILLERS AND THE CRIMSON

SHOWDOWN «+. eer ious By George Hymer 22

Chicago—The last members of a notorious murder crew turn to
bank robbery but are wiped out by police.

AVENGING CAROLINA’S SLAIN POLICE HERO ...---:7:

he kee abe By Capt. L. R. Fisher and Herbert Rudlin 26
North Carolina—A fearless state trooper is murdered but his Bi
comrades avenge his death. - hurst,

~ teacher:
TRAPPING NEW JERSEY’S DEATH MOLLS ....-.- 0+ + cee
vgik oe 08 By Roland E. Lindbloom 32
Newark—The wanton killing of a bus driver baffles police until a
probationer makes a startling admission.

PENNSYLVANIA’S BANK RAIDERS AND THE DEADLY

AMBUSH - By Lawrence Flick, Jr., and Mackenzie Griffin 38

Philadelphia—A perfect bank robbery fails when clever bandits
are trapped by a detective’s hunch.

MURDER MADNESS ..----0 00%" ea By Martin Cotter 46
Illinois—Patient detectives catch up with a pair of brutal killers
in the concluding chapter of a gripping tale.

SHORT FEATURES

CRIME FILE .--- ++": ere ae Se ar

PHOTO FLASHES Pr re on eels aie % ewe eee eneeee? Serr To...
$90,000 GEM THEFT..----: vee nent phew oes avieg 2S Een HES 44
CURB THE SEX CRIMINAL... - +0000" ....+++By Dr. John E. Lind 50
STRAIGHT FROM HEADQUARTERS. .«.--- snes eee e reese ee nee 82

DARING DETECTIVE is published monthly by Country Press, Inc., at 1100 W. Broadway,
Louisville, Ky. Entered af second-class matter at the post office at Louisville, Ky., under the act
of March 3, 1879, with additional entry at Greenwich, Conn. Editorial offices, 1501 Broadway,
New York City, wn. Y. ALL MANUSCRIPTS AND PICTURES MUST BE SUBMITTED
AT THE AUTHOR'S RISK, ACCOMPANIED BY RETURN POSTAGE ADDRESSED TO
THE NEW YORK OFFICE. Price 15 cents a COPY, $1.50 a year in the United States and
yossessions 5 foreign subscriptions, $2.00 a year. Printed in U. S. A. Copyright 1938 by Country

ress, Inc. ‘Advertising forms close the 20th of the third month preceding date of issue. ver:
tising offices: New York, 1501 Broadway; Chicago, 360 . Michigan. Ave.; San Francisco,
Simpson-Reilly, 1014 Russ Bldg.; Los Angeles, Simpson-Reilly, Garfield Bldg.

MEMBER AUDIT BUREAU OF CIRCULATIONS

r

Cad bec gr Sh 3 at es Y ; be :
Be st ka alana ERE RE La Ea eer

bial Sa
Sys, ied
bila MS esa,

ADKINS, BOOTH and TRAVIS, whites, hanged West Virginia State Prison
(Cabell) 3/21/1938

My Honeymoon in the

They Met—They Married—He Went to the Gallows—All in a Few Swift Weeks

est period in the average girl’s

life—became a tragedy of hor-
ror, death and murder. My honeymoon
was spent with a husband who moved
with the steps of destiny closer and
closer to the gallows! As I write this
the gibbet still seems to cast its dark
shadow over me, for the husband that
I loved—my Johnnie—was “hanged by
the neck until he was dead” on March
21. Only a very short time ago I was
a bride. And now—a widow.

I married the man I loved at the
doorstep of death. I became part of
him as an innocent minister lay dying
in the loneliness of an abandoned coal
mine, a helpless victim sent to his death
by three criminals—my husband among
them, they say.

I am still in my teens—nineteen
years of age, to be exact—yet in the
space of a few weeks I have spent a
lifetime of misery, heartbreak and
shame. I am, in brief, the wife—no,
the widow—of John Travis, kidnaper
and killer of the Reverend James I.
Seder, who was one of the most be-

M’ HONEYMOON — the sweet-

loved citizens of Huntington, West Vir-".

ginia. It was a terrible crime when

that aged man was kidnaped and mis-
treated so that he died as a result. But
three men paid with their lives for
that crime—my husband among them.
Johnny’s earthly troubles are over.
But I—I must go on, must suffer all
my life. I can never escape from those
terrible thoughts .. .

To many persons all over the United
States I am not Sunny Travis, who
loved her husband beyond all reason,
who still believes in him and loves his
memory for the things I now know he
did in an effort to free Doctor Seder.
I am, instead, the blond wanton of
Huntington who broke the hearts of
her respectable parents to marry a
murderer and a kidnaper. I am the
headstrong girl who spent a honey-
moon with a kidnaper, while his victim
lay dying in pain and agony. I

aroused and danced while my kid-

naper-husband jeered at the fate of an
old and beloved man. I, too, in the
public mind, have been convicted of
this terrible crime. I knew of the kid-
naping, they say, but did nothing about
it. You who read this will decide the
guilt of Sunny Travis—who was never
tried but was convicted just the same.

Here, too, in the pages of AcTUAL
DerecTive Storrs oF WoMEN IN
CRIME, you will read for the first time
what actually took place between my
husband and Doctor Seder in that
abandoned coal mine, what actually
happened in those tragic days between
November 1 and November 12, 1937,
when the entire nation wondered about
the fate of Huntington’s beloved first
citizen.

I was born in Accoville, a small
town in West Virginia's famed Logan
County, known everywhere for its ex-
tensive and rich deposits of coal.

There is little I can recall until I
was around nine years old. I do re-
member, however, that I had had very
little trouble getting what I wanted.
In other words, I was a spoiled child.

One day, as I was approaching my
tenth birthday, I suddenly decided that
I didn’t like Accoville. The thought
had come to me-after listening for days
to the boasting of another kid that her
family was moving to a big city, where
it would take weeks to see all the
movies. Sunny wasn’t going to be left
out in the cold. One night I asked
Daddy why he didn’t move out of
Accoville,

“Sunny, I can’t very well. My busi-
ness is here,” Daddy told me.

-“I don’t care. This place is so dirty
and full of dust.” It may seem incred-
ible, but it is true that five months
later father had moved to Huntington,
West Virginia. A spoiled child had had
her way.

It was like a transfer to Paradise.
The bright lights, the rushing street
cars, the straw seats that I slid on
with great glee, the movies, the stores,
and loads and loads of well-dressed
kids that I could play with. I was
enchanted. The days slipped by fast,
for they were days of happiness, of
excitement. It seemed no time at all
until I was fourteen. I was far from
a model child or a model pupil. And
at fourteen I began having dates with
older boys. I had outgrown the early
teens gawkiness. My parents began
to reprove me for going out nights.
But I went out—and soon got fed up
even with Huntington. There were
other places of glamor and excitement.
There was the North. People, places,
things like I had never seen before.
There was New York—the magnifi-
cent! I wanted to go, badly. I would.

| CORNERED Dad one evening. “Dad-
dy, I want to go to school away from
Huntington. I’m tired of this place. I
want to go to school up North. There
are a lot of good ones in New York.”

Daddy tried to wave me off. “Don’t
be foolish, Sunny. I can’t afford to
send you off to school.”

“They’re not all so expensive,” I
insisted, disregarding the fact that
Daddy might need that. money for
better purposes than to satisfy a whim.

“There’s no use talking. I can’t do
it, Sunny,” Daddy said.

And because it began to appear that
here was something Sunny couldn't

Unaware that her. bridal happiness was short-lived, Sunny
Travis, left, danced gayly with Johnny Travis at this little
roadside tavern while an aged minister lay near to death...

aDi


1
_ Starved to death.

“What's happened?” inquired Albert
Ronk, bending over the prostrate form.

At the sound of the human voice
the haggard figure moved slightly.
“Please don’t hurt me any more!” he
pleaded. “I have been badly mis-
treated and can stand no more.”

“We are friends, here to help you,”
Ronk assured him.

A faint smile spread across the wan
face. “Thank God!” came the feeble
response. “My prayers have been
answered.”

“Why are you here?” inquired Ronk.
“How did you get here?”

“IT was—brought here—by some men.

—]—

Te pitiful figure lapsed into uncon-
sciousness.

Unaware of the identity of the man
or why he was in such an isolated
spot, Albert Ronk left his nephew to
guard him and hurried into Wayne
for aid. The limp figure was much
too heavy and cumbersome for the
two men to carry out of the hills to
the road.

Within an hour a rescue party head-
ed by United States Deputy Marshal

. E. Ketchum had carried the bruised
man out of the wilderness on a
stretcher and placed him in a waiting
car. From there he was taken to the
offices of Doctor Glenn Johnson in
Wayne, and finally revived after some
difficulty.

“Are you Doctor Seder?” inquired
the physician.

“I am,” feebly replied the man, “and

“Have you had nothing to eat?” he
was asked.

“Nothing to eat or drink since I was
kidnaped,” came the astounding state-
ment. “What is the date?”

The physician did not answer, but
began slowly feeding the aged victim
milk. Doctor Seder was as ravenous
as a wolf, gulping down the liquid and
pitifully begging for more. But the
physician realized the harmful results
of too much nourishment all at once,

The vitality displayed by the aged
man was astounding. Ten days and
nights without either food or water!
Enough to sap the life from any
Strong, robust man. And this 79-year-
old gentleman was alive! But Doctor
Johnson realized his patient was ill
and ordered his immediate removal to
the Memorial Hospital in Huntington.

The two sons, G-Men, reporters,
Lieutenant Swann, Hagley and I
reached Wayne ahead of the ambu-
lance. The sight of the sons seemed to
Increase the aged father’s Vitality. He
was cautioned to save his strength and
not talk, but he insisted upon telling
his experience.

Disjointedly, and at times almost in-
audible, he related how he had been
tricked from his home the night of
November 1 and carried to the mine
which he described as a cave. There,
in the damp cold and pitch darkness,
he — held captive without food or
water.

Finally his captors deserted him, but
not before they had stoned and beaten
him severely. The aged man _ then
became exhausted and lapsed into un-
consciousness. When he finally awoke,
which must have been days later, he
found he was alone. Somehow he
found _ sufficient strength to start
crawling, and then he saw a flicker
of daylight.

Once outside, however, he was too
weak to regain his feet, The sur-
roundings were strange and desolate.
He continued to crawl, barely moving,
and began yelling for help whenever
conscious. He had spent a day and a
night in the severe cold on the hill-
side and he had covered but 25 feet
from the mine entrance when found.

I think it was the most heartbreak-
ing story ever uttered by human lips.
I shuddered at the thought of the slow,
horrible death by starvation intended
for the aged man by his captors.

Asked at the conclusion of his story
the number of his captors and whether

eet lid een ee

or not he recognized any of them,
Doctor Seder stated:
“There were several. I know the

face of one of them but I can’t recall:

his name. He has —— trouble ——”

The old man’s voice faded into an
inaudible whisper. He had again
lapsed into a coma.

No sooner had his voice died away
than my eyes met those of Detective
Roy Hagley in one sharp, penetrating
glance. Hagley, too, must have rec-
ognized the significance of the victim’s
whispered words.

“Come on,” he said to me. “Let’s
go. We haven’t a minute to spare.”

On our way out to the car we picked
up Federal Agents Reeder and Barber.
Together we raced back to Hunting-
ton and once again knocked at the door
of Apartment No. 4 in the Seder
Building. Arnett Booth answered our
summons.

“Get your coat on, Booth,” I de-
manded, “You are going with us.”

“What's up now?” he indignantly’

asked.
“We want you for the kidnaping of
Doctor Seder,” I informed him.
“What’s wrong with you fellows?”

Arnett Booth, who couldn’t see
how anyone could “could be mean
enough” to harm Doctor James |.
Seder, and who will be executed
this month for murdering him, tiv-
ed in the upper front apartment
in this Huntington, West Vir-
ginia, apartment house

he curtly demanded. “Haven’t I sat-
isfied you that I know nothing about
it?”

“You might have satisfied the two
sons,” replied Hagley, “but you haven’t
satisfied us nor the G-Men.”

“Doctor Seder has been found,
Booth,” I told him.

His expression changed immediately.
“Alive?” he asked.

“Alive,” I said, “and he has talked.
Let’s go.” ;

Booth said not another word. We
took him to the FBI Headquarters in
Huntington, where he was locked in
the detention room under guard.

We knew he would be difficult to
break unless we could get the goods
on him, so Hagley and I set out to try
to locate some of his associates who
might be implicated in the crime. _

Arnett Booth had been paroled: from
the West Virginia Penitentiary early
in September, after serving only a part
of a sentence for a criminal assault
upon an elderly woman. He had re-
turned to Huntington and was living
in one of the Seder apartments with a
Mrs. Marie Aliff as housekeeper. For
Some unknown reason she had left
him just prior to the kidnaping of
Doctor Seder.

We knew where this woman resided
and decided to question her, In an-

swer to our questions she stated that
two young men by the names of John
Travis and Orville Adkins were fre-
quent visitors, and the only ones, in
the Booth apartment.

“That’s the reason I left. I knew
all three were crooks and were plan-
ning some serious crime,” she said in
conclusion,

Travis was the recently married
young man, now on a honeymoon. Ad-
kins, likewise young, was also an ex-
convict with a bad record and known
to have no employment. Neither of
the youths was at home when we
called that night, but their where-
abouts were soon ascertained through
relatives. -Fliers were promptly sent
out for them to be arrested on sus-
Picion.

-Immediately following the rescue of
Doctor Seder, Federal Agent Potter,
assisted by local officers, made a thor-
ough search of the abandoned mine.
Besides salvaging the aged man’s bed-
ding, which was splotched with blood,
they picked up innumerable cigarette
butts, several pieces of shale, and an
advertising folder, Finger-prints were
plainly discernible on the folder,

Following this, Hagley and I, accom-
panied by Agent Reeder, searched
Booth’s apartment for possible evi-
dence that would link him with the
crime. Our most important discovery
was a small bundle of envelopes simi-
lar in size and texture to the one used
in mailing the ransom note. We also
placed in a cellophane container sev-
eral cigarette butts.

Back in the Huntington FBI Head-
quarters five Government men were
battling with Arnett Booth in an effort
to break down his stubborn resistance,

After bitterly denying for hours any
connection with the kidnaping, he
finally admitted having written the
ransom note after Agent Potter had
eenuned the finger-prints on the note
as his.

“I knew Doctor Seder had disap-
peared,” Booth stated,
kept saying no ransom note had been
received. I am guilty of writing the
ransom note, but not of kidnaping the
old gent.”

Hagley and I both felt the man was
guilty and decided to take a long shot.

“You're lying, Booth,” Hagley ac-
cused him. “We have trapped two of
your accomplices, Travis and Adkins,
and both have confessed you were the
ringleader,”

Suddenly his face was livid, his jaw
: ad of steel. His hands balled into

sts.

“Dirty rats!” he spat out. “I knew
they would turn yellow! | Yes, I helped
to kidnap the old gent, but I never
harmed a hair on his head, They de-
serted him.”

The ruse had worked. There fol-
lowed a full detailed confession in
which the stoical ex-convict admitted
he had planned the whole affair, but
had nothing to do with the actual kid-
naping or the victim’s mistreatment.

Two days later John Travis, the
bridegroom, and Orville Adkins were
picked up and returned to Hunting-
ton. Both youths, under severe ques-
tioning, signed full confessions of their
roles in the crime and named Booth
the plotter and leader, ;

They stated that Booth had enticed
the aged victim into. his automobile
that fatal Monday night. After car-
rying him to the mine they had re-
turned to the Seder home and had
taken bedclothing for the old man’s
comfort. It was then, according to
Travis, that he found money in the
kitchen. He had kept it and used it
for his honeymoon.

The two youths had taken turns the
first two nights guarding their prisoner
and were relieved by Booth on the
third night. The following day their
leader had returned to the city and
informed them that he had killed the
old man. ._ They never returned to the
mine after that.

“Booth told us,” said Travis, “that
he had stoned Doctor Seder to make it

appear, in case he was ever found, .

The Next Issue of OFFICIAL DETECTIVE STORIES Will Be on Sale

44 |

“The papers:

that rocks had fallen from the mine
ceiling and killed him. We became
jittery and left town.”

Notwithstanding the unusual vitality
displayed by the 79-year-old retired
minister in surviving ‘the ten days of
confinement without nourishment, the
terrific experience gradually took its
toll and Doctor Seder died five days
after being rescued. He never re-
gained consciousness sufficiently to
name his abductors.

With his death, indignation reached a
feverish point in the city and the
three confessed kidnapers were re-
moved to the Charleston jail for safe-
keeping. The trio also was charged
with first-degree murder.

In 1933, the West Virginia Legisla-
ture had enacted a kidnaping law
patterned after the famous Lindbergh
Federal law. This was the first time
a kidnaping had been committed since
the enactment, and Prosecuting Attor-
ney E. E. Winters, Junior, insisted that
the trio be tried in Cabell County
Court instead of Federal Court.

The request was granted. Arnett
Booth was placed on trial on the morn-
ing of Monday, December 6, 1937, ina
special session of Common Pleas Court
in Huntington, before Judge H. Clay
Warth. The frozen-faced ex-convict
entered a plea of not guilty and his
counsel intimated that insanity would
be the defense.

The State, however, was ready for
this angle and had had the alleged
kidnaper-murderer previously exam-
ined by State alienists, who declared
him sane. The principal witnesses
against him were the large group of
officers who had worked tirelessly to
solve the baffling disappearance of the
aged man.

The Federal Bureau of Investigation
agents, by their expert testimony from
the witness chair, gave the Court and
jury one of the most perfect cases ever
presented against a criminal on trial
in a West Virginia courtroom. Their
testimony could leave no doubt of guilt
in the minds of the most skeptical.

On Saturday afternoon, December
11, one month from the date of the
Doctor’s rescue, the all-male jury,
after deliberating just 58 minutes,
found Arnett Booth guilty, making the
pronouncement of a sentence of death
by hanging mandatory.

Travis and Adkins elected to be tried
together when their. trials started on
the following Monday. The State’s
testimony was identical to that offered
in Booth’s trial. Attorneys for the
two youthful prisoners offered no de-
fense but asked for mercy because of
their clients’ youth and their easy
prey at the hands of the more experi-
enced criminal, Arnett Booth.

Prosecuting Attorney Winters bit-
terly denounced such a plea when he
closed his argument before the jury by
Saying:

“QHOW these two defendants the
same mercy which they showed
Doctor James I. Seder!”

His words resounded through the
tense and crowded courtroom, echoed
and re-echoed down the streets of a
saddened city that anxiously awaited

the verdict that would meet the ends

of justice but never compensate the
loss of the beloved citizen,

The jury kept faith with the 80,-
000 men, women, and children in the
city of Huntington when on Friday
afternoon, December 17, they found
the youthful defendants guilty and
recommended no mercy. One week
later Judge Warth sentenced all three
men to die on March 17, 1938.

The State of West Virginia, in its
first and only major kidnaping, has
proved to the world that it will not
tolerate this menace that has brought
shame and disgrace to our Nation. We,
of the Huntington Police Department,
feel that we have partially avenged the
brutal treatment which brought death
to one of our citizens,

An additional illustration with this
story may be found on Page 54.

Wednesday, March 16.

08 2.


os

of Headquarters less than 48 hours
after the mysterious disappearance of
Huntington’s No. 1 citizen, we were
forced to admit that we faced a blank
wall. Yet Hagley was unwilling to
await developments.

“We have got to find this man—and
I hope alive,” he said.

I voiced the same hope and com-
mented upon the unusual physical
strength and mental alertness which
Doctor Seder possessed at his advanced
age. That made any voluntary dis-
appearance sound incredible to me.

Suddenly, Hagley grasped my arm
and said: “Harry, do you remember
the trouble Doctor Seder had several
weeks ago with some man about a bad
check? What was that fellow’s name?”

“Arnett Booth,” I told him.

“That’s the one.
with him.”

We started over to Booth’s quarters.
Booth was one of the tenants of the
missing minister, who owned much
real estate, including two apartment
houses that flanked his home. Doctor
Seder was never known to evict a de-
serving tenant who might find him-
self unable to meet his rent. He was
obliging to his tenants in other ways
also. He had endorsed a check for
Booth—and the check had come

Let’s have a talk

“Everyone in the city is looking for
him,” I said. '

“And we're searching all his apart-
ments, thinking he might be in hiding
somewhere,” announced Hagley.
“Mind?”

“Go right ahead.”

We went through the apartment as a
matter of routine and to permit time
for further questioning without arous-
ing suspicion. Booth watched our
movements from the doorway.

“Ever occur to you that the old man
might have been kidnaped?” Hagley
asked him.

“Who in the world would be guilty

of such an act?” Booth retorted. “Why,
he was the best friend a man ever had.
Would give you anything if you were
in need.”

Hagley kept looking and talking.
“Monday was the first of the month,”
he stated. “Rents were due and the
old man must have collected quite a
bit of money.”

“Hadn’t thought of that,” Booth said.
“But I can’t see anyone mean enough
to want to harm the old gent. Why, I
could tear such a skunk to pieces!”
And Arnett Booth gritted his teeth
with anger.

“When was the last time you saw
Doctor Seder?” I asked.

“Dirty rats!” is what Arnett Booth, bald-headed man below, called his
young associates, Orville Adkins, left, and the dapper John Travis

aot aor ee

bouncing back like a rubber ball. Our
investigation had proved that the name
of the maker of the check did not ex-
ist, but at Doctor Seder’s request no
arrest had been made, as he had as-
sured us he could handle the matter.

When we knocked at Apartment No.
4 on the second floor of the Seder
building, a middle-aged, bald-headed
man opened the door. He was in his
shirt sleeves and was holding a news-
paper in his hand. ~

“Hello, Booth,” I greeted him. ‘Re-
member us? From Headquarters?”

“Sure,” he replied rather coolly.
“Come in.”

We went in. I asked: “Ever get
that bad check straightened out with
Doctor Seder?”

“Only last Saturday,” . came his
quick reply. ‘Paid him up in full.
And was I glad to get out of that
mess!” .

“Guess you heard about his strange
disappearance?” Hagley said.

“Just been reading about it in the
paper,” Booth replied. ‘Bad, isn’t it?
A fine old gentleman.”

“What do you think has happened
to him?” Hagley inquired.

“‘Haven’t quite been able to figure it
out. Looks like he has wandered off
somewhere. You fellows working on
it?”’

26

en silage iponpag teh Ses

aa in OTTO ETT ip o-

&

'

TR RS ow

“Saturday afternoon,” he _ replied,
“when I paid the balance on that check
and my rent.”

_“Well,” Hagley said finally, “he isn’t
here. Guess we’d better move along.”

“Sure hope you find the old gent,”
said Booth, following Hagley and me
into the hallway.

sd iat YOU should hear anything, let us
know, will you?” I asked as we
took our departure.
“You bet I will!” Booth said crisply.
As we reached the street, I said to

Hagleyt “Looks like we were off on
the wrong foot.”

“Yes,” he snapped. “But we’re
overlooking nobody these days,
Harry.”

wl Ai nS Ma a

Lights were burning in the Seder
home and Hagley and I decided to go
inside and have another look. We
found the two sons in the living-room
with their only sister, Mrs.«Florence
Burns, who had arrived from New
York.

Anxiety was written across their sad
faces. We had no news for them—
but they had picked up a little infor-
mation for us. Neighbors had reported
seeing a light-gray coupe bearing New
York license plates “playing around
the Seder home” several nights before
the disappearance.

One man had passed out the infor-
mation that a youth who said he was
from New York had stopped him on
the corner to ask for a cigarette. A

Above, Detective Roy Hagley and
Detective Harry Farris, co-author
of this story, found important evi-
dence at the cabin shown below


eraser ee

ee

. a ae \

fling at him to break him down. Then,
all at once, I had it—a way to break
him. But, would it work?

“I’m not guessing, and I’m _ not
bluffing,” I finally said very quietly. “I
know you killed her and I know just
how you did it. And a jury will know
you killed her and they, too, will know
just how you did it.”

“How?”

“I want you to think for just a min- -

ute. Try and picture in your mind
your own basement. Remember when
you look up from the foot of the stairs
there is a window at the side of the
house.”

WAITED a moment until he could

mentally picture the scene.

“And through that window you can
see a window in the house next door.
Do you know what window that is
next door? That is the bedroom win-
dow of Nina Travis!

“At seven o’clock this morning Nina
Travis looked out of that bedroom win-
dow and she looked right in the base-
ment window of your house. She saw
you beating your mother’s head against
the cement floor!” .

“Why would she look out of her
window at that time?” McKeown
croaked. I could see my words. were
telling on him now. I knew he could
see that window and he recognized
the time ahd the girl’s name as being
exactly right.

I leaned across the table and hissed
in his face, “Because she heard your
mother scream. Because she heard
aes mother scream, ‘Let me-up, you’re

illing me!’ That’s what she heard your
mother scream and that’s why she
looked out of the window. And she
looked right down in your basement
and saw you smashing your mother’s
head against the cement floor.”

I paused, and then very softly I
whispered at him. “Don’t you remem-
ber she cried for you to let her up?
Don’t you remember she cried, ‘Let
me up, you're killing me!’?”

McKeown wilted. He seemed to
slump down and fall apart right in
front of me. “You may as well con-
fess, old man, and get it off your
chest.”

He braced up again. “Yes, I killed
her,” he whispered. “I killed her be-
cause she made me kill her. I just

Snatch of the Reverend Doctor Seder

Seder and Lieutenant Swann awaited
us. ‘
We questioned the iron-jawed man
at length as to his activities the night
of Doctor Seder’s disappearance. He
remained calm and unperturbed while
he parried each question shrewdly and
willingly and with an apparently log-
ical explanation. He had not thought
of asking for the bad check when he
paid his benefactor, he said.

At the end of one long harassing
hour, the interview came to a close.
Booth, cool and impassive as ever,
looked both brothers straight in their
eyes and said:

“Your father was like a father to
me. I would not harm a hair on his
head for all the money in the world.
I am at your call to do anything within
my power to help find him.”

And then he shook the hands of
both brothers and smiled his way out
of our presence.

“That man could not have had any-
thing to do with our father’s disap-
pearance,” was the emphatic expres-
sion from both brothers after Booth’s
departure. And there was nothing
either Hagley or I could say. The cards
were against us.

Our suspect had just left Headquar-
ters when an urgent telephone call
came for Raymond Seder. Mrs. Burns,
the sister, breathlessly announced that
the long-awaited word from the miss-
ing father had come. The morning
mail had brought a ransom note. We
rushed to the Seder home, secretly and
in pairs. Mrs. Burns had already
opened the letter. Willard Seder has-
tened to place it in cellophane con-
tainers according to instructions pre-
viously received from FBI Headquar-
ters. Federal Agent Reynolds, in
charge of the Huntington offices, was
notified and the Seder household
sworn to secrecy.

The missive was crudely printed in
pencil and addressed to :

Mr. Raymond Sedar,
2501 8th Ave.,
Huntington, W. Va.

It read:

Your father is being held for
$30000 ransom—now hold level
head—call all law off—pretend
you found him in St. Paul. He
write you a letter leat here Wed.
Morn to 1375 or 1175 N. Cleve-
land street, St. Paul. No Ramond
its up to you when you see the
old gent again—you get this money
all used bills, no serial no’s taken
$15000 in five dollar bills, $18000
in ten dollar bills, $17000 twen-
ty dollar bills. We hold old gent
one week after we get the money
so we can exchange it. If one of
my companions get caught ex-
changeing this money then dont
expect to see him alive again.

Now we want axion at once.
When you get the money ready put
this add in Huntington Advertiser
special notice column (Peg—am
waiting call Sally). When the add
appears then you will get full
instructions until then you hear no
more. He has red cane 2 double
blankets a comfort 1 dark blan-
ket woll say he had it 40 years.
Act at once and dont forget if
you dont follow instructions you
will not see him alive again.

With the injection of this note into
the mystery and the kidnaping now
an accepted fact, Government wires
began to hum. Within 24 hours Wash-

bumped her when she was coming up
the steps and knocked her down. She
wasn’t hurt, but when I tried to pick
her up she said to me, ‘What are you
trying to do, kill me, piped and then
she said, ‘I suppose you would like to
kill me to get my money.’ It made me
30 mad I threw her down on the floor
again. I kept shaking her head against
the floor until she was dead.”

1 mopped the sweat off my forehead.
I don’t know who was the more badly
shaken at the end of the grilling. I
could feel my hands trembling. But
my bluff had worked. We waited for
a while, and then Doctor McKeown
gave us a detailed confession. He
steadfastly insisted, however, that he
did not kill his mother because of the
money but because she made him
angry when she accused him of trying
to kill her when he only accidentally
bumped her.

A few days later, when McKeown
got an attorney, they found out that
I had been bluffing about what the
girl, Nina Travis, had seen through her
basement window, and he repudiated
his confession. But it was too late. He
already had revealed to us that the

missing bonds and money-belt were
hidden in the hollow legs of a dress-
ing-table in his own room. That
clinched the case.

To forestall any plea of insanity,
Doctors D. A. Nicholson and George E.
Price, two of the best-known alienists
in the Northwest, examined Doctor
McKeown and pronounced he was
sane.

WE WENT to trial April 26, 1932, in
the Superior Court of Judge R.
S. McFarlane. A jury of four men and
eight women were chosen to listen to
the testimony after a strenuous battle
in which every challenge on both sides
was used. And the jury found him
guilty but recommended leniency.

Judge McFarlane sentenced him to
a term of twelve to 25 years in the
state penitentiary. He appealed but
lost his final appeal before the Su-
preme Court on July 12, 1933, and
went to Walla Walla, where he still is
serving his sentence.

Despite his crime, he shared equally
in his mother’s estate, and the money
was turned over to his wife and three
children.

(Continued from Page 27) ogricy eo It First in

The ransom letter was mailed in
Huntington and postmarked the pre-
ceding Saturday, November 6, at 5
p.m. The writer obviously knew that
Raymond Seder was in the city at
that time, yet he had not taken this
information from the newspapers,
otherwise he would not have mis-
spelled the first name. This led to
the belief that the writer was in the
city and familiar with what was going
on around the Seder home. It was
highly possible that the victim was also
being held captive in the city.

The Seder family was ready and
willing to meet the ransom demand to
get back their aged parent. But Agent
Vetterli was unwilling to act too

These man-hunters were active in tracing the kidnapers of Doctor James I.
Seder, of Huntington, West Virginia. Left to right, Detective Lieutenant
Leslie J. Swann and Federal Agents R. E. Vetterli and James D. Reynolds

ington had ten picked men at the
scene with R. E. Vetterli, veteran chief
of the New York FBI office, in full
command.

The converging of the G-Men in
Huntington and their subsequent in-
vestigation were shrouded in utmost
secrecy. News reporters were never
conscious of a single move being made,

‘nor was the press even aware that a

ransom note had been received.

The ransom letter disclosed several
bits of information as to the possible
identity of the kidnapers. The mis-
spelled words and the difference be-
tween the amount of money asked and
the totaled list of bills showed that
the writer was uneducated, with an
obvious attempt to appear otherwise.

The note also indicated that the kid-
mapers were inexperienced. Other
than a listing of bedclothes which
might have been obtained from news-
papers, no effort was made to prove
the missing man was their prisoner.
Another amateurish sign was the find-
ing on the envelope of prints of a
man’s left index finger and right sec-
ond finger by Fe’eral Agent A. T.
Potter, the finger-print expert who.
had been rushed to the scene from
Washington.

hastily. Experience had taught him
that kidnapers were more interested in
the ransom being paid than in the safe
return of the victim. He wanted to
be sure that Doctor Seder was alive
and that the ransom demand was not
a hoax.

A wire to the Minnesota city brought
the reply that no letter had been re-
ceived there from the missing man, as
stated in the ransom note. This made
the Federal investigators skeptical.
However, in order to contact the writer
of the note, the ad was secretly placed
in the Wednesday afternoon edition of
the Advertiser, as requested. And the
same paper reported that Raymond
and Willard Seder had returned to
their respective homes.

[y THE meantime, a quiet and secret
search was instituted through Hunt-
ington’s underworld. A_ border-line
city, it had become a notorious ren-
dezvous for car thieves, robbers and
the like. And Doctor Seder’s work
among the slums had brought him in
constant contact with men who fre-
quented the fiophouses of the city.
Wednesday afternoon and_ night,
November 10, found four FBI agents,
disguised as bums, mingling with the

DETECTIVE STORIES

riffraff of Huntington’s underworld.
They obtained cheap lodging in sepa-
rate quarters along with scores of for-
gotten men,

The Seder kidnaping was on the lips
of every human. These derelicts
talked and prophesied and the G-Men
kept their ears open and eyes alert.
By morning, however, they realized
the underworld did not hold the secret.

Special Agent Roger Gleason re-
ported a bit of information that was
of interest to Hagley and me. He had
overheard several bums discussing the
recent marriage of Johnny Travis and
his subsequent honeymoon. Travis,
although young, had a long record
known to us. Where the honeymoon
money had come from was a mys-
tery. We were curious to know.

The following day was Armistice
Day. Hagley and I spent most of the
morning checking the young groom’s
recent activities in the city. He had
not worked since his recent discharge
from an Ohio reformatory, yet his
mother informed us that the marriage
had been consummated on November
5 and the couple would be away ten
days.

With all investigation practically at
a standstill, the afternoon of Armis-
tice Day brought a sudden and unex-
pected turn to the baffling case.

In the adjoining county of Wayne, a
farmer by the name of Albert Ronk
left home early the morning of No-
vember 11 to go to another farm lo-
cated on Gragston Creek, some dis-
tance away. As he walked towards
the road he heard strange sounds com-
ing from a near-by hillside.

He was unable to determine whether
the sounds were human moans or the
cries of some animal. He was sure
they came from the mouth of an old
coal mine which had been abandoned
20 years ago. He knew it was a
favorite lair for animals and consid-
ered an investigation unnecessary.

All day long, however, the memory
of those eerie sounds kept returning to
his mind. He was not aware of the
disappearance of Doctor Seder, but he
was worried, puzzled. He told his
young nephew, Edgar Ronk, about the
incident upon his return home early
that afternoon. They decided to in-
vestigate.

As the two men approached the
abandoned mine entrance, the sounds
became clearer, more distinct. Soon
they were plainly audible. They rec-
ognized a human voice and the faint
words fell upon their ears like some
spiritual manifestation.

“Lord, someone come and get me,”
came the words again and again.

The two men increased their pace
rapidly. Less than 25 feet from the
mine entrance they suddenly came
upon the figure of an elderly man
sprawled on his back on the frozen
ground. His clothes were torn and
bloody, his face bruised and battered.

43


second youth was seen loitering across eyes a canceled check. “That bad

the street from the Seder home. check of Booth’s which Doctor Seder
We questioned these people who had made good!” he exclaimed.

seen the Strangers, but were unable to “And which Booth said he had paid,”

get any additional information. It I added. ee

strengthened the kidnaping theory, but “Booth lied,” Hagley snapped. “‘Doc-

we were profoundly puzzled as days tor Seder was a businessman and
passed and no demands for ransom would have returned this check if and
were made. By Friday evening, No- when paid.”

vember 5, the city was in a frenzied “When a man of Booth’s caliber be-
state of mind. Interest had reached gins lying,” I said, “I begin to get—”
fever pitch. “Suspicious,” Hagley cut in. He had

Telephone calls continued to pour taken the words out of my mouth.
into Police Headquarters faster than “And Booth has a record, too.”

they could be taken care of. Hourly “But he’d be too dumb to pull a
bulletins were issued. People wanted smart kidnaping job,” I remarked.

to help. Men volunteered to leave “Yeah. But not too dumb to pull
their businesses and form posses to aid a dumb job!” Hagley flung back.

in the search for the missing man. That same afternoon we received

So urgent had these outside demands new information that increased the
become by nightfall that a mass meet- kidnaping Suspicion. .We encountered
ing was called in front of the City a young man by the name of Charles
Hall. Here it was decided that the Cole, who lived across the street from
Boy Scout troops and schoolboy pa- the Seder residence,
trols of the city should be organized “T saw Doctor Seder,” he Said, “come
into a systematic search. Scout Com- out of his house the night he disap-
missioner Guy Jackson and Lieutenant peared between seven-thirty and eight
of Detectives Swann mapped off the o’clock and get into the front seat of
area. a car parked in front. Another man

was at the wheel, but I could not see
EARLY the following morning 600 him. Doctor Seder closed the door
boys met at the City Hall and were and the car went down Eighth Ave-
formed into groups under trained lead- nue.”
ers. Private trucks carried them to Asked why he had not given us this
their separate objectives. Throughout information Previously, Cole explained
the day they combed the city and the that he had not considered it of any
Surrounding rugged country, only to value. Although his vision was im-
return that night a disappointed and Paired by the darkness, Cole was sure
defeated lot. the car was a coupe of some light

Rumors began to reach Our ears. color. He said the sound of the motor
The missing man had been seen in indicated that the car might have been
various parts of adjoining counties, we an old model. He had not observed
were told. All these reports, under in- the license plates,
vestigation, soon dissipated into the Hagley and I considered this new in-
thin air from which they had origi- formation important and we went over
nated. Doctor Seder had vanished. it with Lieutenant Swann at Detec-
And now we feared that he had been tive Headquarters, It showed that
murdered. Doctor Seder had left his home volun-

On Sunday, November 7, Hagley and tarily and with someone whom he
I again visited the Seder home. For knew and Possibly had an engagement.
hours we scanned through papers in Cole had stated that the driver did
the missing man’s desk, hoping against not 80 into the home but simply blew
hope that we might find something that the horn to attract the aged minister.
would give us a Starting-point. To On Monday morning Hagley and I
Our surprise we found that not a sin- again called at Apartment No. 4 in
gle entry where any tenant had paid the Seder building. This time we es-
that month’s rent had been made. And _ corted Arnett Booth to Police Head-
we knew rents had been paid by many, quarters, where Raymond and Willard

Suddenly, Hagley held before my Continued on Page 43)

4 “iy 1% ow he “y 4
Ls) ie » Fe ai e ,
a te ‘Ee a PAS ‘

The aged man was kept with-
out food or water for ten days
in mine, left, but had enough
strength to crawl close to en-
trance, above. Photo shows re-
sults of stoning by abductors

4 * he pe. is
Tees a


on Fort Boreman near what was for years mistakenly called the hanging tree.
According to many accounts it was on this tree that they were hanged, but
that is a mistake. By the evening of February 8th there was not a hotel room
available in Parkersburg. Men were sleepingir livery stables, on pool tables
and many made no effort to retire for the night but spent the time in carousing
and greeting old friends. The oil field svorkers of Burning Springs turned out
for the occasion by the hundreds. In fact, the executions brought to Parkers-
burt the biggest crowd it had experienced up to that time.

The grim journey to the place of execution partook of the nature of a
parade. Seated in a wagon, dressed in white shrouds and with their coffins
ensconced behind them in the wagon and to the music of a fife and bugle
corps, the parsde wneded its way down Market Street and across the Kanawha
River by the Market Street bridge. Then, turning slightly to the left, the
road ran up the hill past the old Pest House and to the place prepared for the
execution. At the scaffold there was an argument between Grogan and Boice
as to which should hang first. Boice accused Grogan of being a stool pigeon
and told the sheriff that he wanted to see him hang, to which Grogan violent-
ly objected.

This placed the sheriff. in a quandary, so finally he said, "How would
it be to hang you both together?" This being agreeable to both Grogan and
Boice, the sheriff prepared 3 rope with a noose at each end, which were
placed around the necks of the condemned. A second rope was tied to the
center of the one containing the nooses and the trap was sprung. The rope
broke and both men fell to the ground badly shaken up. Boice was able to
mount the scaffold inaided, but Grogan had to he carried. Then, at the earn-
est insistence of Boice, Grogan was hanged first. Boice asked for time
to address the audience and it was granted. At the close of his talk he re-
marked that he was a saved man and was going straight to Heaven, and ad-
vised everyone to shun whiskey and bad company.

As mentioned in his confession, Gibbony, after his ascape from the
Wood County jail, was recaptured and returned to the jail on March 10th,
1866. He appeared before the court on Mondty, May 14th, and was resent-
enced to hang on June 15th, 1866. This execution took place as scheduled.
It may be noted that Judge Loomis sentenced Grogan and Boice to die on two
separate occasions and Gibbony was sentenced three different times. On
each occasion the court set the date on a Friday, and always between the
hours of 12 noon and 3 in the afternoon. In passing sentence, the Judge
omitted the usual formula, "and may God have mercy on your soul".

After the hanging of Grogan and Boice a pamphlet appeared onthe streets
of Parkersburg purporting to be their confessions, and this sold by thousands.
The confession of Gibbony was sold here by the newsboys and could be found
wherever magazines and newspapers were to be found. The following is a
copy of Gibbony's confession as it appeared in pamphlet form. No effort has
been made to change the spelling or wording in any way. It will be noticed
that he misspelled the name Boice continually. Many conjectures regarding
the murder of Mr. Decm have been offered over the years. It is possible
that the woman that Gibbony mentioned being with on the 15th of September,

1864 had something to do with the murder. However, it is only one of the
rumors that have persisted. Another is that Gibbony became so angry at
Grogan and Boice for something they did or didn't do that he cursed them
and swore he would see them hang. As noted, Gibbony escaped, and an-
other rumor has it that he sat in a tree nearby and watched those two hung.

BERANE PERE RR
eigathls Stee rar

Ba

?
BE

GT

oo

To

Es
es i :


ADKINS,

vember 2, in the crowded

City Hall of Huntington,
West Virginia, an impatient audi-
ence waited for an address by
their beloved, retired minister,
Dr. James I. Seder.

And in the lobby of the audi-
torium, Mrs. C. §S, Chandler, the
speaker’s youthful secretary,
nervously paced the floor.

In his thirteen years residence
in Huntington, the cleric had
never once been late for an en-
gagement. He had always been
a stickler for promptness—in
others as well as in his own
methodical habits. Mrs. Chandler
glanced at her wrist watch for
the tenth time in as many minutes.
It was already past 8:30, and the
meeting was scheduled for 8:00
p-m. More minutes dragged by
and still there was no sign of Dr.
Seder—or any word from him.

Her nerves jumped as the phone
rang shrilly. It was Allan Waite,
Dr. Seder’s upstairs tenant. Then
a new wave of fear struck her
as he asked: ‘“‘Have you seen Dr.
Seder?”

Something in his voice made
her shudder. Nervously she in-
formed him of the speaker’s ab-
sence. “Then something is ter-
ribly wrong,” Waite declared in
a worried tone. “Better come here
quickly.” ,

Mrs. Chandler, a woman of
prompt and decisive action, im-
mediately called police headquar-
ters. “Dr. James Seder,” she in-
formed them, “is missing!”

O~ TUESDAY evening, No-

HE drove rapidly to her employer's

home, a_ two-story white frame
house at 2501 Eighth Avenue. Four
men were just stepping off the square
front porch when she pulled up in front
of the well-kept building.

Allen Waite was with them. He mo-
tioned to her, and as she drew near,
hurriedly introduced the others. ‘This is
Lt. Leslie T. Swann, and Detectives
Harry Farris and Roy Hagley.”

WITAL DETECTIVE Winel IVIF

BOOTH & TFRAVIS

The officers acknowledged the intro-
duction. Lt. Swann, a stocky man with
broad, muscular shoulders, turned to
Waite. “Go on with what you were
saying,” he said quietly,

“IT saw a light early this morning,”
Waite continued. “But 1 didn't see
Dr. Seder. When I returned from work
this evening his bedroom light was
still burning. I took the liberty of
lcoking inside, but the minister was
net at home.’’ He shook his head. “I’m
worried. His rear door is open. That’s
not like him, Usually, it’s barred shut.”

On the front doorstep, still untouch-
ed, was a rolled newspaper. Lt. Swann
picked it up and upwrapped it. It
was the Huntington Advertiser, dated
Tuesday, November 2nd. Frowning, he
examined ‘the mailbox. Inside. were two
personal letters addressed to Dr: Jamies
Seder.

In the rear of the two story build-
ing, the unlatched door swung fitfully
back and forth in the chill fall wind.

He examined it carefully for traces
of its having been forced open, but
discovered no signs of tampering.

Inside the neatly kept home, there
was only a series of meticulous, un-
disturbed rooms. Obviously np intrider
had ransacked the House. Yet the only
sign of life was the dull glow of the
lamp still lit in the minister’s bed-
room.

As they entered, the dim, shaded
light threw a shadowy pattern on the
unmade bed. Here, Swann realized, was
the first hint of mystery.

The bedclothing was gone!

Only ‘one torn sheet, pinned to the
striped mattress, remained. A_ search
of the room failed to disclose any trace
of the missing sheets and_ blankets
which had covered’ the rhinister's bed.

Over a chair, next to the bed, was
a carefully arranged gray suit. But
there was no sign of the man’s shoes
or socks.

Detective Hagley walked over to a
stand in the corner of the room where
three walking sticks rested in their
slots. All three, he noted, were white.

“He was almost blind,’ Mrs. Chand-
ler explained quickly as she observed
his thoughtful frown.

“T see,” Hagley nodded. He studied
the canes with interest, ‘How many
of these did he have?” J .

“Three,” she replied promptly.

WEST VIRGINIA

_ By WILL HERMAN MURRAY

WHEN THEY. WENT IN FOR THE
KIDNAPPING RACKET, ARNETT
TAUGHT THE BOYS THE ROPES,
BUT THEY GOT IT IN THE NECK

Albert Ronk, the farmer who followed the sounds of
strange moans in the woods, found the missing Seder.

Mrs. Chandler (L) was first to recognize foul play. Ver-
la Travis (R) unwittingly married a dapper kidnapper.


He looked up in sudden surprise.
“There are three canes here,’”’ he point-
ed out. “Would Dr. Seder go out with-
cut his white walking stick?”

She locked at him
“Never.” she said.

An examination of the bedroom closet
indicated that missing from the ward-
tobe were the minister’s black suit.
dark overcoat, gray hat and black shoes.
After conferring together Waite and
Mrs. Chandler agreed that these items,
frequently worn by the missing man,

worriedly.

were gone.
Lt. Swann frowned thoughtfully.
“The missing clothes—one complete

outfit—seems to indicate that Dr. Seder

dressed himself and left.” He stared *

around the room. “There is no, sign
of any struggle here.”

“What about the bedclothes?” Hag-
ley asked.

Swann’s eyes were frankly troubled.
“That.” he admitted, “is what  wor-
ries me. I don't understand it.”

“And a nearly blind man dcesn't go
out without his white cane—certainly
not at night,’’ Detective Farris added
quietly.

“Tell us about Dr. Seder,’ Swann
suggested suddenly to the secretary
who was taking the news hard. She
looked gratefully at the officer and be-
gan speaking rapidly.

Dr. James I. Seder, age 79, she told
them, was still a husky figure of a man
weighing over two hundred pounds and
standing six feet, two inches in his
stocking feet. He had been born in
Wisconsin, and“had followed the family
tradition of joining the’ ministry. For
six years he had lived in Japan as a
missionary. Then he had returned to
serve the Evangelical Church for more
than half a century.

Half the midwest knew and loved the
venerable old minister for his courage-
cus speeches, his many kindnesses and
philanthropies. Hundreds had sent their
sincere condclences on that sad day
when failing sight had forced his re-
tirement.

“But he continued his work,” Mrs.
Chandler added proudly. “He even
managed his three apartment houses
himself taking care of all the business
details without assistance from any-
one.”

She pointed to his desk. “He still
centributed articles to many religious
publications. There are probably some
on his desk in the process of prepara-
tion.”

WANN stepped back toward the bed

and examined it minutely. He
locked particularly for any trace of
blood stains or signs of a struggle.
When he was finished, he was certain
there were none.

But the answer to the riddle seemed
to lie there. What might prompt a man
to disappear, yet take his bedclothes?

He turned to the nervous secretary.
“Was Dr. Seder wealthy?” he asked
softly.

She hesitated for a moment. “No,”
she said slowly. “I wouldn’t say so.
He was well to do—but not wealthy.”

She told them about his family, two
sons and a daughetr. “Willard lives in
Pittsburgh. and is an executive with a
large steel company; Raymond is in
St. Paul, also a business executive. The
daughter, Florence, is married to Allan
T. Burns, an executive in New York.”

Swann pondered the _ information.
With such prominent children, and with
Seder himself fairly well off. kidnap-
ping for ransom was a distinct —pos-
sibility.

It did not, however, explain the
mystery of the missing bed-clothing.
Nor did the appearance of the room
indicate that Dr. Seder had been forced

16

Set nether

to leave against his will. A virile, power:
fully built man, he could have put up
a stout struggle in spite of his ad-
vanced years.

If not that, had he met with foul
play? Had some thief, knowing the
old man was nearly blind, attacked
and robbed him? Was it possible, he
wondered, that a sudden physical at-
tack had caused him to collapse some-
where of old. age?

Or was the whole business a_wild-
goose chase? Would they find Dr. Seder
absent-mindedly visiting one of his
children ?

Mrs. Chandler scoffed at the sugges-
tion. ‘I'm sure something terrible has
happened,” she -whispered. “Dr. Seder
would never have left town without
notifying me in advance!”

It tock three long-distance telephone
calls to settle the last point. Willard,
Raymond and Florence Seder were
amazed by the news-of their father’s

disappearance. None of them had heard ‘

‘from him, nor were they expecting a
visit from him. “He wasn’t in the
habit of arriving unannounced,” ' Mrs.
Burns .told police over the phone. ,

Willard dropped his private affairs
at once. “You may expect me in the
morning,” he said from, his Pittsburgh
home. “Hold the investigation until
I arrive.”

Despite the son's suggestion to hold
off the investigation, police went on
with the chase realizing that a few
valuable hours lost now while the dis-
appearance was fresh could never be
recaptured.

Under the direction of Lt. Swann,
Detectives Hagley and Farris canvassed
every house in the neighborhood for
clues.

—Charles Cole, a neighbor, was the
last person to have seen the missing
man.

“I saw him come out of his house
about 7:30 Monday evening,” Cole told
them. “He got into a car. and it drove
off down Eighth Avenue.”

“Was he forced into the car?” Hag-
ley asked. ;

Cole shook his head. “No, I'm cer- .

tain he entered the car willingly.”

He had paid little attention, he told
them, since there had been no reason
for him to be suspicious. He could
not recall the make or model of the
car. “It wasn't a new car,” he frown-
ed. “I remember that the motor sound-
ed pretty loud.”

“One other thing,” Hagley said.
“Was he carrying a bundle with him?
Any bedclothing, : for example?”

Cole shook his head. “I don’t remem-
ber’ exactly—but I don't recall seeing
him carry anything.” He shrugged.
“But it was pretty dark then. I could-
n’t really be positive.”

Continued questioning of neighbors
of the missing Dr. Seder proved com-
pletely unproductive. No one, appar-
ently, had seen the minister since late
Monday afternoon. Nor could they
find anyone beside Charles Cole who
had seen him enter the car that evening.
’ One neighbor admitted“that she -had
ncticed an old model car bearing a
New York license plate driving up
and. down the street earlier in the
afternoon. But she had thought, little
of it and had paid no attention. to it.
She had not seen’ Dr. Seder enter
the car.

Meanwhile, Lt. Swann checked ‘care-
fully with every railroad, bus-line and

taxi company in Huntington. If the-

well-known Dr. r had left Hunt-
ington, someone. would certainly have
noticed it. But cfficials of the different
companies were convinced, after in-
vestigation, that Dr. Seder had not
departed from the city.

Orville Adkins and John Travis made up the gang

with which Arnett Booth operated his inhuman scheme.

Y morning, the sensational news of
Dr. Seder’s disappearance had
spread everywhere. Aroused citizens
quickly offered to form posses and to
search for the old man. Under the di-
rection of Lt. Swann, hundreds of boy
scouts were organized in a band to
search the city’s wooded outskirts, for
some sign of him.

But twenty-four hours later, the
strange disappearance of Dr. James
Seder remained a completely clueless
mystery. ;

‘The Seder children reached the city
and went into immediate conference
with police officials.

“Father’s only enemies were polit-
ical,” Willard Seder declared flatly.
“Either he has met with bodily harm
or he has been kidnapped for ransom.
We must get him back before he is
harmed.”

His brother, Raymond, and his sis-
ter, Mrs. Florence Burns, agreed with
him. They could suggest no enemies
their, kindly father might have and
were convinced that he was in serious
trouble.

“Father didn’t just walk off,” Mrs.
Burns declared vehemently.

“He was an old man,” Swann said
gently. “Sometimes old men get strange
notions. Perhaps he feared he was be-
ing pursued; perhaps he suffered from
sudden delusions of attack. Isn’t it
Possible that he wandered off by him-
self and is in hiding somewhere?”

“Father was in full possession of
all his faculties,’ Mrs. Burns stated.
“He would never do such a thing.”

Mrs. Chandler, the doctor’s attrac-
tive young secretary, was equally quick
to point out that she had talked to
Dr. Seder on Monday afternoon, and
he' had assured her he would be at
the meeting where he was scheduled
to make one of the leading addresses.

“He went out on Saturday after-
ncon to collect the rents from his
apartments as- usual,” she told him.
“When I called him Monday after-
ncon, he was busy entering the receipts
in his entry book.” She shook her
head. “Dr. Seder was in good health.
Only his eyesight was poor. He was
as keenly alert as you or I.”

Lt. Swann weighed their words care-
fully. If kidnapping was the answer—
and he could see no other reason for
the man’s disappearance—the help of

the F.B.I. would be needed. Without
further delay, he called J. D. Reynolds,
F.B.I. man in charge of the Hunting-
ton office. “

Reynolds joined the conference at
once. After listening to the details al-
ready in their possession, he, too, fa-
vored the kidnapping theory. But, he
quickly explained, the Federal men
could take no actual part in the in-
vestigation until kidnapping was actu-
ally proven, or until a ransom note
was received or the criminal crossed
the state line.

“If you should receive a ransom
note,” he told the worried family, “be
sure that only one of you touches it.
The fingerprints will prove of value
later on.” He handed them a small
packet of crisp cellophane envelopes.
‘Place the message in these wrappers,”
he told them, “and rush it over to
my office.”

While Reynolds laid his plans for
action, should he be called into the
case officially, Lt. Swann distributed
descripticns of the missing minister to
all points within five hundred miles
of Huntington.

Dr. Seder was described as a white-
haired man, 200 pounds in weight, six *
feet {wo inches in height, dressed in
a dark suit and coat with a light hat
and dark shoes. Anyone with knowl-
edke as to his whereabouts was re-
quested to notify Huntington police
immediately.

Unwilling to overlook any possible
theory, Detectives Farris and Hagley
canvassed the three apartment  build-
ings owned by the missing man on
the chance that he was hidden there.
or that he had let drop a hint to one
of his tenants that might help in un-
travelling the riddle.

They learned little of value. 'Ten-
ants agreed that Dr. Seder had per-
sonally collected the rent, as usual, on
Saturday afternoon. He had not ap-
peared strange or worried, they stated.

All of them scoffed at the idea that
Dr. Seder might have had any en-
emies. He .was a kind-hearted, generous
man who never pressed his tenants.
and frequently allowed them. two and
three months leeway in their rent.

Typical of their statements was that
of Arnett Booth. He lived on the top
floor of one of Dr. Seder’s buildings.
They climbed the freshly painted stafrs

and knocked on the door. A_ lanky.
Middle-aged man looked out. stared
at them for a moment, and welcomed
them in. *

Then he held out his hand and. grin-
ned. “It’s all) straightened up now.”
he assured them. “Don't need to
bother me no more now. | paid Dr.
Seder complete for that check last
Saturday.”

The officers exchanged quick, puz-
zled glances.

Hagley explained they were not con-
cerned with the check. He broke the
news of the fears they held for the
safety of his landlord.

Booth had not heard. He was genu-
inely concerned as they described the
search for the minister. “That's too
bad,” he said sincerely. “He’s been
right kind to me.”

He told them how only three weeks
before he had issued a bad check to
a local firm. ‘I didn't have the money
to pay. The store was going to press
charges against me. That's when Dr.
Seder came to bat for me. He made
the check good.’’ He shook his head
slowly. “I sure hope nothing has hap-
pened. He was a good man.”

Hope that the old man was still
alive was running low by the end of
the week. On Saturday, November 6.
six hundred boy scouts, led by Scout
Commissioner Guy Jackson, formed a
huge searching party. Dozens of angry
citizens joined the, boys and helped
them once again to search the densely
wooded countryside.

Swann thanked the Commissioner for
his efforts, but his mind was elsewhere.
He was worried. If Dr. Seder were
kidnapped—and with each passing hour
this seemed more certain—why was
there no ransom note? Had the panic-
stricken criminals murdered their vic-
tim? Would they ‘find the old man’s
body in some hidden crevice or ravine?

GPCR TLY after, when hope was low.
the case broke wide open. Mrs.
Burns — Florence Seder — returned to
her father’s apartment. In the mail-
box she found a dirty envelope. In
crudely printed pencilled characters, it
was addressed to her brother Raymond
—but the name was spelled “Ramond
Sedar.””

Was this the long awaited ,ransom
note? Tremblingly, Mrs. Burns exam-
ined the envelope. She remembered
G-Man Reynolds’ instructions that only

rth

one persen should touch it. Hurrying
inside, she notified the police, the F-B.L.
and her brothers.

Then she opened the letter. It con-
tained several pages of widely spaced,
misformed printing, with lines wobbling
dewn toward the right. It read: ~

“Your fathér is being held for
$30,000 ransom—now hold level head
—call all law off—pretend you found
him in St. Paul. He writ you a letter
there Wednesday Morn to 1175
N. Cleveland Street, St. Paul. No
Ramend it’s up to you when you see
the old gent again—you get this money
all used bills, $15,000 in five dollar
bills, $18,000 in ten dollar bills, $17,000
twenty dollar bills. We held old gent
cne week after we get, money so we

can exchange it. If one of my com- ~

panions get caught, exchanging this mon-
ey then don't expect to see him alive
again. Now we want axion at once.
When you get the money ready, put
this add in Huntington Advertiser
special notice column (Peg am waiting
call Sally). When the add appears then
you will get full instructions until
then you hear noe more. He has red
cane, | double blankets, a comfort 1
dark blanket woll say he had it 40
years. Act at once and don’t forget
if you don’t follow instructions you
will not see him alive again.”

After reading the letter to her broth-
ers, Mrs. Burns carefully placed it,
according to directions, in the special
cellcphane holders—and turned it over
to the F.B.I. ‘

And with the receipt of the ransom
note, the Federal men were furnished
with a legal right to enter into the case.

Reynolds promptly contacted Edgar
Hoover in Washington. Within twenty-
four hours, eleven top government ex-
perts were in the city. From the New
York Bureau came R. E. Vetterli to
take full charge of the case; G-Man
Barber came from  Cincinnatti, and
Reeder from Louisville. Dr. T. D: Beach
arrived from Washington accompanied
by the graphologist and fingerprint ex-
pert, T. W. Conrad.

Yet so swiftly and secretly did the
Operatives move that not even the
newspaper men suspected their arrival
in the city and their entry into the
case, ;

Vetterli and Reynolds held a quick
conference with the Seder family.

“We want father back at.any price,”

Arnett Booth (L) tricked Dr. James Seder (R) into the .
kidnap car. Seder died later from this terrible ordeal.

Willard told the New Yorker. “But we
haven't that kind of money. readily
available. What shall we do?”

“Don't be hasty,” Vetterli. warned.
“The letter itself may be a fake. There
is nothing in it which proves that they
have your father. Everything contain-
ed in the letter was printed in the
newspapers—except the red cane. And
Dr. Seder didn’t own a red cane... .”

“But he did!” Raymond Seder in-
terrupted excitedly. “I sent it to him
cnly last week!”

“I see,’ Vetterli nodded thoughtful-
ly. ‘“Kidnappers,” he reminded them
grimly, “cannot be trusted. They are
more interested in the collection of the
money than in the safe return of the
victim. We'll stall them while you do
what you wish about the money.”

The ad in the paper the next day
was a carefully prepared one. It read:
“Peg, Anxious to make the trip, but
haven’t enough money. Am _ waiting
call. Sally.”

And to lull the kidnappers into a
false sense of security, Vetterli inform-
ed the newspapers that Florence Burns
would stay at her father's home in
case of a call while the two brothers
left town for undisclosed reasons. ‘The
criminals will assume you are leaving
to raise the money,’ he told them.

The conference ended, the officers
turned their attention to a careful
study of the ransom note.

“The kidnappers are still in the
city, or very close to Huntington,”
Vetterli pointed out. “The letter car-
ties a local postmark.”

The envelope itself, they noted, was
a cheap dime store variety. One cor-
ner of the flap was crooked—the re-
sult of a dull cutting~ knife.

The paper did not match the en-
velope. It appeared to be a sheet of
printed stationary—and the printed
heading had been carefully cut away.

e careless, laborious printing was
the work of a rank amateur or a crim-
inal who wished to appear so. However,
the fact that the note demanded $30,-
000 and then itemized demands for
$50,000 indicated gross ignorance.

The note was turned over to finger- ~

print experts for further examination:

Appreciating that further clues or
prints might be contained in the first
letter sent to St. Paul, according to
the kidnappers, Vetterli crackled a tele-
type message through to the northern
office. Postal officials instituted a thor-
ough search without result. No such
letter had been received. . . .

TEEN a new and startling develop-
ment in the ten-day old mystery
drove all thought of the ransom note
into the background. The sensation
began with an unexpected telephone
call from Wayne, West Virginia, to
the Huntington Advertiser.

It was believed in Wayne, that the
body of an old and beaten man had
been located on the farm of Albert
Ronk, near Gragston Creek.

Was it Dr. Seder?

Led by Deputy Marshal M. E.
Ketchum, and guided by Ronk, a res-
cue party formed in Wayne. Hunting-
ton police, G-men and friends of the
kidnap victim raced toward Wayne to
join the rescuers.

Albert Ronk did not know the dy-
ing man’s identity. He explained that
he had heard a strange sound that
morning, but had been too frightened
to investigate. With his nephew, later
in the day, he traced the sounds to a
steep embankment near an abandoned
mine shaft.

He had found a white-haired old
man lying in the brush. His eyes were
dull, his tongue swollen, his face a
mess. of bruises. The Ronks did not

recognize the unconscious man. Unable
to revive him or to carry him to civil-
ization, the farmer had gone for help

Spurred on by the description, the
rescuers made double-time until they
neared the shaft. Ronk motioned them
to silence. No sound broke the. still-
ness. A-lone crow’s caw-caw floated to-
ward them. A twig crackled underfoot

Then there was another sound. They
strained their ears. “Help me... save
me .. .”’ cried a weak voice. so low
as to be all but inaudible. “For the
love of God in.heaven . . . someone

.. help...”

“That's it!” cried Ronk. “That's the
voice I heard before he fell uncon-
scious.”

In another minute, so close had they
been to the feeble cries, the searchers
came upon the pitiful sight.

Before them trembled a haggard old
man, his face raw from many wounds
his hands cut and bleeding. Behind the
prostrate figure, and up the steep in-
cline, they could see the trail where
he had courageously dragged his body
through the woods.

It was Dr. Seder! And, by some
miracle, alive!

He seemed unable to believe his
senses. “Yes. yes,’’ he choked happily
“Oh, my friends. how good to . 7
Then, in the excitement of the rescue
and the strain of his exposure, his
tortured mind lost its bearings. For
a moment, he forgot he was in friendly
hands. ‘Don’t hurt me,” he whimper-
ed shakily. “Please don’t hurt me. I
cannot stand any more pain.” He lapsed
into unconsciousness.

Later, they learned some of the ter-
rible truth about his ordeal. Since the
night of the kidnapping, not a morsel of
food had passed his lips. After a day
or two, spent in the hidden shack.
his captors had brought him to the
mine shaft and tried to kill him. Think-
ing he’ was dead, they went away
Somehow he had found the strength to
crawl out of the shaft and down the
embankment. Whenever he could find
the strength, he whould cry for help

All this they learned from his fretful

ramblings on the trip back to Hunting-
ton, and after he was safe in Memorial
Hospital.

“Did you recognize your captors?”
G-Man Vetterli asked him.

The sick man stared blankly. “I can't
think . . .” he gasped finally. “One .
man... trouble... I can't think .
his name . . .” But the strain was too
great and he lapsed once again into a
coma.

Albert Ronk, the stocky-figured farm-
er who had found the half-dead body
of Dr. Seder, was carefully questioned
He knew nothing further about the
crime, and had no connections with
the kidnappers. This was quickly evi-
dent in his prompt, straight-forward
answers to their questions.

“IT never met Dr. Seder.” he told
them. “I had heard about him. of course
—everyone had—but I wouldn't have
known him if I'd met him on the
street.”

“How do you figure the kidnappers
came to take him out to your farm?”
Vetterli asked.

Ronk shrugged. “I haven't any idea
I don’t know anyone who knows Dr
Seder . . .” He hesitated for a mo-
ment: “I guess I better change that,”’
he grinned good naturedly. “I've got
4 cousin who lives in one of his apart-
ments.”

“Who's that?” Vetterli. asked and
fought to keep his voice casual.

“Arnett,” Ronk said. “Arnett
Booth!”

(Continued on page 28)

onUl IN A WEOI

that he never left the house without taking one of them
with him. I’m going to call the police!” Her hands
trembled as she picked up the telephone.

Dr. Seder was one of Huntington’s best loved citizens and
the news that he had disappeared brought an immediate
investigation. Lieutenant Leslie Swann and Detective Roy
Hagley were on their way to the doctor’s home within a
few minutes after Mrs. Chandler’s report came in.

Both officers had been well acquainted with the aged
minister, and their faces were bleak as Waite explained
about the lights burning in the daytime and Mrs. Chandler
showed them the three canes and told of her fears.

‘I’m certain Dr. Seder didn’t leave this house of his
own free will,” she concluded firmly.

Swann nodded understandingly. The doctor was a
familiar figure on Huntington’s streets after dark, strolling
along with his flashlight and cane, pausing occasionally to
speak to old friends. The lieutenant could not recall having
ever seen him without a stick.

His keen eyes scanned the bedroom, noting the rumpled
bed from which the covers and one of the pillows had been
removed. Only one sheet remained on the mattress.
Swann’s face hardened as he stepped forward for a closer
examination.

One end of thé bedsheet had been tucked securely under
a corner of the mattress, but was jerked out. The end
caught and the sheet had torn in the middle.

“Dr. Seder didn’t do that,” the lieutenant said signifi-
cantly. “Looks to me as though that sheet was torn in a
struggle of some sort.”

But there was no evidence to bolster his deduction. Not
one other item in the room was disarranged. There were
no bloodstains—nothing to indicate a struggle. A neatly-
folded blue serge suit, hung over the back of a chair near
the bed, had not been disturbed.

“It looks like a’ snatch to me,” Detective Hagley said

"Syed
* me Rs q
a yy

cat?

"The author of this note is illiterate—the scrawled
writing isn't faked," said R. E. Vetterli, FBI chief in
New York, who assumed charge of the kidnap-murder case.

MAY, 1943

VIRGINIA MINE JEN DAYS WITHUUT FOOD OR
WATER, AGED DR. SEDER DIED WITHOUT NAMING HIS CAPTORS

quietly. “Probably pulled off last night about the time the
doctor was getting ready for bed. That would account for
the lights burning all day.”

The fact that that back door was ajar when Dr. Seder
was in the habit of keeping it locked, makes it appear that
he was grabbed when he went to see who was there,”
Swann said. “That would preclude a struggle in the bed-
room. That torn sheet baffles me.”

Had Extra Stick

There seemed to be no immediate solution to that puzzle.
Both officers were convinced that the kindly minister had
been the victim of a gang of kidnap artists. The doctor was
comparatively well-to-do and his age and infirmity would
have made him easy prey.

Identification men were ordered to check the home
thoroughly for fingerprints while still other officers were
assigned the task of interrogating neighbors in an effort
to find someone who may have seen or heard something
suspicious the previous evening.

A description of the missing minister was broadcast dver
local radio stations and all listeners were asked to report
any information which they might possess directly to police
headquarters. Shortwave carried the alarm to police
cruisers over a 500-mile area, warning officers to be on
the alert. While the manhunt was still gathering momen-
tum, Lieutenant Swann notified Dr. Seder’s two sons of
what had occurred.

Raymond Seder was comptroller of the C. St. P. & O.
Railroad in St. Paul. His brother Willard was an official
of the Bethlehem Steel Corporation in Pittsburgh. Both
made plane reservations and flew to the Huntington air-
port, arriving that same night. Their sister, Mrs. Allen T.
Burns of New York City, also was notified.

Although concerned over their father’s disappearance,
the sons ridiculed the theory (Continued on page 50)

Two juries decided no mercy should be shown the cruel
slayers, and Judge H. Clay Worth sentenced them to the
gallows. They asked $30,000 and got a hangman's noose.

21

e brutal kidnapers stoned their.
ctim, former ‘head of the West Virginia
“League. If he died they hoped police .

rocks from the mine ceiling killed him.

‘James |. Seder lived on the first floor of the big _

duplex house ond rented the upper apartmerit. ‘The - |

tenant there became alarmed when lights in the min-. —
ister's home burned and he didn't answer the bell.”

BY EUGENE HOPKINS

HEADLINE DETECTIVE, May, 193.

ADKINS, BOOTH and TRAVIS, WAXXAKXXAAMKK Whites, hanged West Virginia
(Cabell County) March 21, 1938.

Coal Mine Captive and the

was shortly after 9 o’clock at night, and the 79-year-old

retired minister and former superintendent of West
Virginia’s Antisaloon League was preparing to retire when
a knock sounded on the back door of his big house in
Huntington, the state’s largest city.

Clad only in bathrobe and slippers, the aged minister,
almost blind with advancing years, made his way slowly
through the kitchen. He fumbled a key in the lock.

As the bolt clicked, the knob was wrenched in his hand
and the door thrown open so violently that Dr. Seder
almost fell. He staggered backward as two men burst
into the room.

“Dr. Seder?” one rasped hoarsely.

“Yes. What is it?” There was no fear in the old man’s
quavering voice, only indignation at these intruders.

“All right, doc, you’re coming with us. This is a snatch,
see?”

1 REV. DR. JAMES I. SEDER was quite alone. It

«

Strong hands gripped his feeble arms on either side an
the doctor was hustled through the doorway. He cried ou
weakly, but a fist smashed against his mouth and afte
that he accompanied his captors without protest. A thi
trickle of blood traced its way across his lower lip but th
minister was unable to free his hands to wipe it away.

A raw November wind whipped through the barren tree
and rustled the dried leaves on the ground. Dr. Sede
shivered as the chill air cut through the thin dressin:
gown he wore.

“I am not well,” he pleaded. “My clothes...”

His two captors laughed harshly and thrust him int
a small tan coupe parked at the curb. A third man sa
behind the wheel. He grinned and moved over to mak
room and said genially, “Get in, doc. We’re going places
Make it fast.”

The second bandit slid into the seat beside Dr. Sede
but the third, who seemed to be the leader, hesitated wit)

Above: Orville Adkins was picked up in a hide-
out near his home. Right: John Travis was in a
hurry to get married, but his honeymoon was cut
short. Lower right: The ransom letter's author
left a fingerprint, and all three were hanged.

his foot on the running board. He thought for a moment.

“I’m going back in the house and get some duds for the
old man,” he decided. “He’s liable to get sick if we keep
him out in the cold, and he’s no use to us dead.”

The other two nodded in agreement and a few minutes
later their companion returned, his arms laden with sheets
and quilts and even a pillow from their elderly victim's
bed. Stowing these in the car, he squeezed into the narrow
Seat and slammed the door. The driver started the motor
and the little car moved slowly down the street and headed
Out of town.

The kidnaping was undiscovered for nearly 24 hours.
The doctor’s wife was in a St. Paul hospital with a broken
leg. But Allan Waite, who rented the upper floor of the

'8 duplex house which the minister owned, made it a
daily habit to speak to his elderly friend and landlord each

“vening after work in order to assure himself that every-
thing was all right ©


All Lights On

On the night of November 3, however, when Waite rang.
the bell there was no answer. He tried the door, only to
find it locked. Apparently the doctor was not at home.
Unsatisfied, the tenant crossed to one of the windows and
peered inside. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed,
but lights were burning brightly in each of the rooms.

Somewhat perturbed, Waite went to his own home and
questioned his wife about Dr. Seder’s whereabouts. She
had not seen or heard him all day.

“I can’t help but feel that something’s wrong,” Waite
said uneasily. “I happened to notice those lights were on
when I went to work this morning. Surely he wouldn’t
have left them burning all day.”

“Perhaps you'd better go down and see what’s the mat-
ter,” his wife suggested. “The doctor might have had a
stroke, or fallen and injured himself.” ,

“I did try to get in,” her husband explained, “but the
front door is locked. That’s why I thought he might be
away.”

On an impulse he picked up the telephone and asked the
operator to dial Dr. Seder’s number. Waite could hear the
bell chattering below, but there was no response. He
switched the call to Mrs. C. S. Chandler, the minister’s
personal secretary.

Mrs. Chandler listened to his story but expressed no
concern. “He was scheduled to address a meeting spon-
sored by the Rescue Mission at 8 o’clock this evening,”
she said slowly. “If you like, I'll call and find out if he’s
there.” :

“I wish you would,” Waite said. “The fact that he left
all the lights burning seems a bit peculiar to me, but I
didn’t like to force the door without first trying to
locate him.”

Satisfied that he had done his best, the tenant sat down
to his evening meal. Ten minutes later he was interrupted
when Mrs. Chandler and her husband turned into the
driveway.

“Dr. Seder wasn’t at the meeting,” the secretary ex-
plained briefly. “I phoned them but they haven’t heard
from him all evening. They tried once to reach him at the
house, but when no one answered the phone they thought
he might be on the way to the gathering.”

“Think we ought to risk breaking in the house?” Waite
asked.

Mrs. Chandler nodded. “We’ll have to find out if he’s
in trouble at home. Will you help us get in?”

“Gladly.” The three of them went down to the Seder
residence.

“The front door is locked,” the tenant said. “I tried that
earlier.”

“It might be better to force the back door,’ Chandler
suggested. “Unless one of the windows is open.”

The back door, however, was unlocked. Despite the cold
weather it stood slightly ajar. “He always kept this door
locked,” Mrs. Chandler said. “I’m sure now that something
has happened.”

Always Used Cane

The chill, unearthly silence in the house as they walked
from room to room gave the searchers the feeling there
was no one in the residence. Despite the bright lights the
place had the appearance of being uninhabited. At the
bedroom threshold Mrs. Chandler stopped short. A little
cry escaped her. , .

“Those canes!” she exclaimed, pointing. “Dr. Seder’s
canes. I know something dreadful’s happened!”

The two men stared curiously at three canes stacked
in a corner. “I don’t see what they have to do with i
Waite said after a moment. ;

“He had only those three canes,” Mrs. Chandler ex-
plained, her voice tight in her throat. “He was so feeble

%)

The minister's sons, Willard (standing) and Raymond,
turned over the ransom demand to officers. They are
shown with their sister, Mrs. A. T. Burns of New York.

Dr. Seder was one of the best loved churchmen in the

city of Huntington, W
something was wrong w

. Va. His secretary was certain

hen she saw three canes in place.

HEADLINE DETECTIVE

Swann was
uished by Dr.
\-headed man
. The officer
n Booth, a
fort cupied a
‘tment house.
oth had been
passing of a
Morrison and
Swann re-

{ straightened
good the loss.
to which the
ed? Or was
rambling of
oth had been
_-ember 8th, at
asom note had
1 Seder’s sons
had emphati-
thought very

nd would not

ir of his head.
etectives Farris
ied by two FBI
in an easy chair
:pped when the
inted at Head-
yut of the apart-

th Booth’s apart-
fine-tooth comb.
had been sharing
) articles and un-
Continuing their
cheap, plain en-

‘ll hustle these in

ng.

‘+k the neighbors.”

rters, his partner
two men, both

im daily up until

mn and night,” de-
the same building.

t he had been ab-
ounded important.
led that a girl had

ve seen her about
to be a waitress.”
Agent could learn
artment.

to FBI Headquar-
as being questioned

ee EE TT NE FOR

—

ee

Kidnap Torture! 25

by Special Agent in Charge Reynolds and Lieutenant Swann.
They did not get anywhere until the Federal man appeared
with the envelopes. Immediately an FBI analytical chemist
was called in to examine them under the microscope.

He set up his apparatus, adjusted the eyepieces and after
several minutes of careful scrutiny, called Reynolds out of the
inquisition room.

“Jim, these envelopes are imperfect in the same manner
as the one that went through the mail,” the expert said.
“They’re the same size, weave and texture. I'll stake my
reputation that they were made in the same factory on the
same machine.”

Ree walked into the other room and slapped the
bundle down on the table in front of the prisoner.
Booth’s eyes roved over them.

“They look like some I bought at the five and ten,’ he
grinned. He had been on the grill then for about two hours.

Reynolds placed the ransom envelope and one of the new
ones side by side, and pointed out the same imperfection on
each.

“What of it?” snapped Booth. “T’ll bet there are a hundred
people right here in Huntington with identical envelopes in
their homes.”

“Maybe you're right,” replied Reynolds, shrugging his
shoulders, but he could see the suspect was losing some of
his nerve.

“If your skirts are clean, maybe you'll write the text of
the ransom note for us, so we can see that it wasn’t in your
handwriting,” the G-man suggested.

“Sure I will,” said the prisoner. “Let’s go.”

Furnished with pencil and paper, Booth wrote as the FBI
agent dictated. He didn’t know that a handwriting expert
was waiting in the next room. He thought he was smarter
than his inquisitors.

Booth attempted to disguise his hand by writing with the

letters sloping back. He: misspelled the
words “action” and “exchange.”

“How do you spell ‘action,’ Booth?” in-
quired Reynolds as he examined Booth’s
product.

“A-x-i-o-n,” spelled the suspect con-
fidently.

“So did the fellow who went after
that ransom money,” returned the G-
man. ‘The correct spelling is a-c-t-i-o-n.”

Booth blinked rapidly, and made no
reply.

“Handcuff him, Leslie, and take him
back to jail,” ordered Reynolds, turn-
ing to Lieutenant Swann. “We'll charge
him with the kidnaping in the morning.
That will mean the death penalty.”

“Wait a minute, fellows,” shouted
Booth as Swann produced the manacles.
“T might as well admit that I wrote the
note.”

Swann and Reynolds sat down again.

“But I didn’t have anything to do

with the snatch,” Booth continued. “I just thought I might
as well horn in on my landlord’s disappearance as was done
in the Lindbergh case.”

“You don’t mind giving us a statement to that effect, do
you, Booth?” inquired Reynolts.

“Tt’s okay with me because I didn’t get any of the dough,”
replied Booth.

It was 10:30 that Thursday night when Booth admitted
writing the ransom note. It was about one a. M. Friday
when he signed a statement, typed from questions and an-
swers.

“T discussed Dr. Seder’s disappearance with Mrs. Chand-
ler, his secretary, on November 3rd,” began Booth’s state-
ment. “I was inspired to write the ransom note because I
had read a number of accounts concerning the Lindbergh
kidnaping. I remembered that a man by the name of Cur-
tis got $25,000 or $30,000, and since I believed that Dr.
Seder had been kidnaped, I figured that I could write a
letter and get between $20,000 and $50,000.

“Thursday night, November 4th, I planned to write a let-
ter to Raymond Seder to see if I could not collect a ran-
som. Dr. Seder had previously mentioned to me that he
had a son, Raymond, who worked for a railroad in St.
Paul, and I also read in the newspapers that this son was
in Huntington. The newspaper accounts gave his name as
Arthur. However, I figured that this was the same one.

“T studied about writing this letter Thursday night and
all day Friday.”

The statement said that on Friday afternoon Booth went
to a downtown hotel and obtained some stationery from the
clerk, taking it to his apartment, after attending two mo-
tion pictures. At sajcnaehtt he wrote the note.

“Tn this letter I stated that Dr. Seder was being held for
$30,000 ransom and also that a letter had been mailed to
Raymond Seder on Wednesday at St. Paul,” the confession
went on. “I did not know that such (Continued on page108)

Two innocent persons who indirectly suf-
fered from the crime were A. P. Booth,
father of the ringleader, and the pretty
young bride of John Travis (at left)

(Below) Members of Dr. Seder’s family as
they waited to testify. (Left to right) Mr.
and. Mrs. Allen T. Burns, Mr. and Mrs.
Arthur Raymond Seder and Willard Seder


iat

108

we were on our way to the farm, where
Kahl promised to lead us to the grave.

En route he told us his version of what
happened. He claimed that his wife had
accused him of going out with other wo-
men. They had quarreled, and she had
threatened to kill herself. She. carne to
the field where he was working, and shot
herself. with a gun he had left in his
wagon. He was afraid he would be
blamed, he said, so he buried the body
and concocted the story of her disap-
pearance. We were certain that he was
lying, and equally ‘certain that we could
get the truth, once he had shown us the
grave. So we allowed him to think we
believed him. .

When we arrived at the farm he real-
ized that he had been tricked, for it was
deserted. However, it was too late for
him to turn back.. He led us immediately
to the forty-acre field, and to the spot
on the strip of head-land where five min-
utes’ digging brought ‘to light the proof

a letter had been written, however. I-

figure that since Dr. Seder had been kid-
naped, a ransom had been demanded.
“For this reason, when setting forth the
denomination of the bills, I requested $50,-
000, thinking that if the previous letter
had requested $50,000 they would think
that my letter was from the kidnapers.

“rFP\HE next morning, which was Satur-

day, I decided to mail the letter so I
placed it in an envelope and addressed the
envelope to Raymond Seder, 2051 Eighth
Avenue, Huntington’ At this time I had
not decided on a definite plan to collect
the money; however, I had read about a
kidnaping case in Michigan where the
kidnapers had the money thrown out of
an automobile.

“T decided to have the money dropped
somewhere on the streets of Huntington.
However, I had not decided where. On
Tuesday, November 9th, I. read in the
paper that the Seder boys had both gone
home and so I did not look in the news-
paper for an advertisement in answer to
my letter. I figured they had gone home

for the money and would not be back for-

about a week so I-did‘pot expect the ad-
vertisement until about that time.”
Booth signed the statement in the

presence of Lieutenant Swann and: Spe- -
cial Agents and acknowledged photo--.
graphic copies of both the ransom letter |

and its envelope. The prisoner’s finger-

prints and Bertillon measurements taken,
he was arraigned before the United States -

Commissioner, who had been waiting for
such an event, on a charge of using the
mails for extortion, and bound over to
the Federal grand jury under $50,000
bond. He couldn’t furnish it, so he was
jailed again.

The trio obtaining the statement hur-

ried with it to the hotel from which G-

man Vetterli was directing operations of
his men in the field, several of whom
had remained in Wayne County. It was
then two a. M. Friday. a

“That’s fine work, boys,” said Vetterli,
after reading the statement. “You took
Booth to a physician, of course, before
returning him to jail?”

Vetterli referred to an ironclad sule of
the FBI that all prisoners subjected to
lengthy questioning must immediately
be examined by a doctor to refute possi-
able future claims at a trial that a con-

& Sh GRR, Pa Bey. tose ay»

True Detective Mysteries

of his fiendishness,

Kahl turned away and refused to look
but we were in no mood to -respect his
feelings. I seized him by the arm and
spun him around. |

“You killed her, and I’m going to make
you look at her,” I said, and started to
lead him toward thg,grave. He turned
his head away, shuddering.

“Don’t... please ... please! Yes, I

killed her! You know I did! I'll tell you

the truth if you don’t make me look!”
Back at the county jail he made a

formal statement to State’s Attorney L.

M. Harlan in which he told the true story

of his crime. as it is described herein.

Later he told us where to find his bride’s
watch and diamond engagement ring
which he had hidden in the oat bin of
his barn. He had placed them there a
couple of days after the murder, fearing
that they would be found if the house
were searched, :
Kahl had confessed on October 9th, two

Kidnap Torture!
-. (Continued Hom page 25)

fession was exacted through third de-
gree methods.

“We did, Chief,” said Reynolds. “Lieu-
tenant Swann suggested Dr. James S.
Klumpp as one of. the leading physi-
cians. We had Booth strip, and Dr.
Klumpp went over him thoroughly. He
couldn’t. find anything but an abrased
area on the chin, which Booth told him
he had received falling over a rock.”

“T wonder if he could have tripped
over some slag in that coal mine,” mused
Vetterli, aloud. As if in answer to his
thought the phone rang. It was one of
the Special Agents calling from Wayne.

“Put him on,” instructed Vetterli.

“T think I’ve got something, sir,” came
drifting over the wire from the Special
Agent, who had been advised of Booth’s
arrest, but not his statement.

“Well?” -

“This fellow, Booth, used to work in
the. mine where Dr. Seder was imprisoned.
Not only that, but he’s a cousin of Albert
Ronk, who owned the mine and who found
Seder.”

“I see,” commented Vetterli in his quiet
way. “I see—and what else?”

“This,” the Agent. went on. “Booth is ~

an ex-convict. He was released from
Moundsville Prison last January on a
conditional pardon after serving ten
months of a five-year term from Wayne
County for attempted rape of a 74-year-
old woman.” |

“Good. work. Now you can come in,”

said Vetterli. Then he snapped into ac-

tion,

“Get on the job comparing those two
prints on the ransom envelope,” he di-
rected,

“Jim, hunt up that girl Booth was liv-

_ ing with and get the names of those two

young chaps who were always hanging
around his apartment,” he flashed at Rey-
nolds. “The girl should have the infor-
mation, and Lieutenant Swann will help
you find her, I am sure.”

Swann nodded. He and Reynolds made
their exit. | Vetterli lit a cigarette and
telephoned for a pot of black coffee.

“Men, there’s no sleep for any of us
until we clean this thing up,” he said to
the Special Agents who had been sum-
moned from their rooms.’

Trained under that human dynamo of
discipline and streamlined efficiency, the
famous Director, J. Edgar Hoover, in

weeks to the day after his brutal act. He
was indicted by the grand jury on Octo-
ber 15th, and pleaded not guilty at his
arraignment. dward C. Knotts, his
former school teacher but then a promi-
nent Springfield attorney, represented him.
After the arraignment, Knotts said:

“T warned that boy he would regret
not obtaining an education and attempt-
ing to make something of himself.”

On Friday, November 28th, the prisoner
appeared before Circuit Judge F. W. Bur-
ton, who had been his father’s friend for
many years, and changed his plea to
guilty. Two. days later, it was Judge
Burton’s painful duty to sentence him to
hang. He died on the early morning of
December 22nd, just three months after
his crime, on a gallows set up in the rear
of the county jail in Carlinville. It was
universally agreed that he got exactly
what he deserved, but unfortunately, his
death did not restore his pretty bride of
three weeks to her relatives and friends.

Washington, Vetterli was like a blood-
hound on the trail.

“Tell Dr. Klumpp to stand by for an-
other physical examination,” he ordered.

The G-men knew what that meant—an-
other inquisition of Booth.

Vetterli paced the room, waiting for
the Special Agent to arrive from Wayne,
and for the Bureau’s expert, to complete
the fingerprint comparison. The former put
in his appearance first.

“Booth lived down there on the Ronk
farm for over two years, driving a team
and working in the mine, Chief,” he re-
ported, :

The Agent also had found a wittess,
John Phillips, living on Gragston Creek,
near the Ronk farm, who had seen Booth
there on November 2nd, the day after
Dr, Seder disappeared, .

“Booth came to my home on foot about
6:30 the night of November 2nd,” Phillips
had declared. “He asked me if I would
take him to Huntington, I drove him as
far as Kenova, where he got out in front
of the Tri-state Hotel.”

eg sya with the prosecutor who
had pressed the rape charge against
Booth, the Agent had learned that Booth
had been born and raised in Wayne
County.

“Hop down to Kenova and see if any-
one around the Tri-state Hotel saw Booth
the night of November 2nd,” Vetterli
instructed,

The Agent “hopped,” and telephoned
within the hour that Booth had purchased
twelve sandwiches, six ham and six goose
liver, at the hotel between 9:00 and 9:30
on a night early in November. Hotel
employees disagreed whether it was on the
first, second or third day of the month.

Roy L. Hatten, a clerk in the hotel,
said that while the sandwiches were being
prepared, Booth’s car, which looked like
a dump truck, was parked across the
street, A woman was in it, he said.

“That woman again,” remarked Vetterli.
He swung to a Special Agent.

“Locate Lieutenant Swann,” he ordered.
“He told me something about some woman
out on bond who claimed Booth had made
her write a-bad check.”

The G-mdn found Swann, who took him
to the woman. She was Mrs. Ann - Milton,
age twenty-three, and separated from her
husband, She was “pretty, petite and

or emo amen

Pit RE NAR

three wi
“Did

were the
“Just

conically
“What
“Darne
were a
7em arov
She sa
got drun!
know th.
added,

ROM.
be on
Milton y
men figu
charge w
It was
print ex;
“What
terli,
“Well,
on the r:
“Two of
by his ric
by his I
made by
wore glo\
The Fe
satisfactio
this break
listened, »
over his
voice was
Dr. Seder
“Did th
fingerprint
“No—th
replied Ve
bered tha
just report
duty as gi
Immedi:
to relieve
telephone.
“Ham a
he counted
up with p
He turn
we'll inter
work fast.
close up li!
Other §
guard who
to turn in.
Interview w
Hagley sat
Departmen:
hey wei
are all G-1
these days,
assumed ai)
tened. He
fell quickly
the conver:
tions were |
them, and i:
the answers
He spoke
County, ren
for Booth 1
ten years be
ditional par
wasn’t guilty
his lawyer t

lood-

Yr aD-
lered.
—an-

g for
‘ayne,
uplete
er put

Ronk
team
he re-

“itness,
Creek,
Booth
after

about
Phillips
would
him as
o front

or who
against
t Booth
Wayne

if any-
w Booth
Vetterli

ephoned
urchased
six goose
ind 9:30
r. Hotel
is on the
> month.
he hotel,
ere being
yked like
‘ross the
uid.

| Vetterli.

> ordered.
ne woman
had made

took him
in Milton,
from her
vetite and

young,” as the school teacher neighbor of
Booth and Dr. Seder had described her.

“Sure, I lived with Booth a while,” ad-
mitted Mrs. Milton, upon being brought
before Vetterli.

“When was that?” she was asked.

“Oh, up until about two weeks before
Dr. Seder vanished. We were together about
three weeks, I got tired of him and left.”

“Did he have any callers while you
were there?”

“Just a couple of young squirts who
came around to drink up his booze,” re-
turned the young woman, who said she
had married in May and left her husband
a few months later, because she was tired
of him, too!

“Know their names?” inquired Vetterli.

“Johnny and Pete,” sighed the girl, la-
conically.

“What were their last names?”

“Darned if I know,” she replied. “They
were a couple of local punks. I’ve seen
’em around often.”

She said sometimes Johnny and Pete
got drunk and stayed all night. She would
know them again if she saw them, she
added.

ROMISING not to skip town, and to

be on hand as a witness if needed, Mrs.
Milton was returned to her lodging. G-
men figured that the bond on the check
charge was high enough to hold her.

It was nearly daylight when the finger-
print expert arrived with his report.

ae about the prints?” queried Vet-
terli.

“Well, you know that there were three
on the ransom envelope,” was the reply.
“Two of them were made by Booth, one
by his right middle finger, and the other
by his left index finger. The third was
made by Mrs. Burns. I guess the postman
wore gloves.”

The Federal man rubbed his hands with
satisfaction. He was about to comment on
this break, when the telephone rang. He
listened, with a grave expression coming
over his face. When he spoke again his
voice was solemn. “That was the hospital.
Dr. Seder is dying.”

“Did they get his statement yet?” the
fingerprint man asked,

“No—the physicians won’t permit it,”
replied Vetterli. Then the G-man remem-
bered that the Special Agent who had
just reported to him had been on constant
duty as guard,

Immediately he assigned another man
to relieve him. Then he swung to the
telephone.

“Ham and eggs for seven,” he said as
he counted noses in the room, “Send them
up with plenty of toast and hot coffee.”

He turned to his men. “After breakfast
we'll interview Booth again. We’ve got to
work fast. If Dr. Seder dies, this man will
close up like a clam.”

Other Special Agents, including the
guard who had declined the opportunity
to turn in, were assigned to the second
interview with Booth, and Detective Roy
Hagley sat in for the Huntington Police
Department.

They were smooth, efficient workers, as
are all G-men who remain with Hoover
these days. They started quietly, with an
assumed air of hero worship. Booth lis-
tened. He heard sympathetic words, He
fell quickly into the confidential tenor of
the conversation. The inquisitor’s ques-
tions were penetrating. Carefully he placed
them, and in a quiet, casual way, he noted
the answers,

He spoke of the rape charge in Wayne
County, remarked that it would be a pity
for Booth to return to Moundsville for
ten years because he had violated his con-
ditional pardon, Booth countered that he
wasn’t guilty, that he had been urged by
his lawyer to plead guilty.

True Detective M ysteries

The conversation drifted around to the
coal mine. “Let’s see, how long was it,
since you worked there on the Ronk
farm?”

“T never did,” insisted Booth. ‘

“But your cousin says you did,” replied
the G-man softly. “And Johnny Phillips,
down there on Gragston Creek says he
hauled you to Kenova on the second night
Dr, Seder was missing.”

As the Special Agent continued, with
another Federal man and Detective Hagley
occasionally interspersing questions, Booth
began to weaken. Sensing this, a G-man
spoke with sudden sternness,

“Booth—come clean!”

The prisoner hung his head.

“T kidnaped Dr. Seder.”

The words were quietly spoken, but
neither the G-men nor Detective Hagley
doubted for a moment that the truth was
on its way out,

Booth’s confession came, freely and
without effort at concealment. He was
unburdening his soul. Then he could sleep.
It came at two p.m. Saturday, twelve
hours after he had confessed to. writing
the ransom note, less than forty-eight
hours after Dr, Seder was found, All in
the day’s work with the G-men.

Booth named Orville Adkins and John
Travis, both twenty-five years of age, and
both Huntington youths, as his confeder-
ates, Throughout his second confession,
he referred to Adkins as “Pete” and Travis
as “Johnny.”

“It was on Hallowe’en the first time I
learned that Seder was worth any money,”
Booth began. “He came to my apartment
and in talking of his children told me
about his son, Raymond, in St. Paul, who
had-a good job with a railroad. From his
conversation I understood that he and his
wife had each inherited a large sum of
money, about $50,000 each.

“On November ist while we were in
various saloons drinking, Pete and I de-
cided that we ought to make some money
and Pete told me to call Johnny Travis
and tell him to meet us. I called Johnny
at his home at about 5:30 p.m. and told
him I would meet him at Jefferson Avenue
and 14th Street.”

AG relating that he obtained his
father’s automobile on pretense of
going to Wayne County to see his cousin,
Albert Ronk, Booth then declared he met
Travis on Madison Avenue and picked up
Adkins. He continued:

“We bought a pint of whisky and went
down to Railroad Avenue and 14th Street
where we began talking about various
ways of securing money. Johnny suggested
blowing a safe, but I told him I knew
nothing about blowing a safe and if we
were going to do something, let’s do some-
thing where we were sure of. what we will

get.

“T told Johnny and Pete that old man
Seder was supposed to havea received, or
inherited some money and we all agreed
that he would be a good person to kidnap.

“We then had to think of a place where
we were going to keep him and I sug-
gested a log cabin which is right at the
head of Patrick, Gragston and White
Creek in Wayne County.

“We all agreed on our way to Seder’s
house at 2051 Eighth Avenue that I would
go to the house itself while Pete and
Johnny would wait ofa near-by corner.
I went. to the house after leaving Pete
and Johnny out at 19th Street and Ninth
Avenue.

“The front door was open and the old
man was sitting in the hallway. I forget
exactly what I said to him, but whatever
I said was with the intent to have him
come with me. He‘put on his hat and
overcoat and carried his red cane with
him, We came down the steps and both

109

TYPEWRITER 12 Price

Yours for"

[Qfaday : |

Positively the test bargains ever bid
cle Thies Eitenine eine:
ard, {ull-sised refinished office ‘models at far below 3% mfe.’s original
pi The outstanding value of all times. U) te improvements
uding ww keyboard, back uutomatic ribbon

standard | 4-ro’ ack spacer—a'
teres, te necge td fot Kemi. ae n nu typewriters at
LIMITED OFFER ACT AT ONCE!
PORTABLES |} Special zc larhine leratre spewing

sent Free! Simply

Boned soe amet Toe | Fok gees ase has ee ae
lescr’
Seeeelee As anoclal low | -qthout obligation, Limited "supply.
Today eral ProeGntalow. piied<e motets 3 ser, eo ne
writin ‘System Included with
each pewriter,
INTERNATIONAL TYPEWRITER EXCHANGE
231 W. Monroe St., Dept. 1151 Chicago, Jl.
’ —
°
® Relieve
Py
eumd is Minutes
°
Minutes

To relieve the torturing pain of Neuritis, Rheu-
matism, Neuralgia or Lumbago in few minutes,
get NURITO, the Doctor’s formula. No opiates,
no narcotics. Does the work quickly—must relieve
worst pain to your satisfaction in few minutes or
money back at Druggist’s. Don’t suffer. Get
trustworthy NURITO today on this guarantee.

xear unting ies; deco! te, homme and den, “ >
Tins grnnias HOME LOAN Pea te: FOBT?
FREE BOOK fi2ntts. “get your copy

AwistHoeL or’ PARSERMY, £038 Efwood | Ar

‘The new sensation in men’s shoes —
The Chippewa Clipper. It zips on and
off in a “jiffy”. Right now is the right
time to get into a dignified and highly
profitable shoe business of your own
with this fast seller, and a complete line of almost
250 styles of dress, work and sports shoes. Prices
as low as $1.98 a pair. Free 10-second demon-
strator sells super-comfort air-cusbion
shoes like magic.

Manufacturer established 35 years
wants salesmen. No experience needed,
‘Write for complete sales kit. It’s free!

MASON SHOE MANUFACTURING CO.
Dept. B30, Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin

DEFROSTS WINDSHIELDS
eae © Without Heat

New!-Sells Like Wild

. Sleet, Snow,
. Uses

J a ion. ts
BOTH sides of glass. Works instantaneously, Ends gon erous ‘blind
driving.’* riced. Autoists wild about it. A’ Ss
EVERY WH Re. Hustlers heposgend up pis pape : ¢

Samples sent on trial to firs! in eac!
SAMPLE OFFER locality who writes. No obligation. Get
details. Be first—send in your name TODAY.
THE KRISTEE PRODUCTS CO. 380 Bar St. Akron, Ohio

Farn Wood-working $¢
IN YOUR SPARE TIME!

Learn how you can build up a
profitable spare or full-time busi-
ness in your own_ home. This new
book ‘‘How to Make Money in
\ Woodworking” is crammed with
practical tested ideas, plans, and
\ suggestions. Tells you exactly
what to make, how to make it
and how to sell it. Describes
plans that have worked for
others. Woodworking, the new
way, is light, pleasant and
profitable. Send only 10c and
complete book will be mailed
eY postpaid. Satisfaction guar-
anteed or money refunded.
Write to Dept. 4228

Delta Mfq Co. Mmuwauxee, wis.


ico re BAS

110

of us got into the front seat of my father’s
automobile, me driving.

“We drove to 19th Street and Ninth
Avenue where Pete got in the front seat
with us. I do not recall that any wire
was placed on Seder’s wrists; nor did I
see any tarpaulin or anything else put.
over his head while we were riding from
his house to the hideout near Wayne.”

During the trip, the statement con-
tinued, Dr, Seder asked repeatedly where
he was being taken, but it was not until
the shack was reached that either Adkins
or Travis told him that he had been
kidnaped.

When Booth said that he left Dr. Seder
in the mine alone on November 2nd, and
never returned, the officers shuddered at
the thought of the aged minister being
without food or water for nine days. No
wonder the aged’ man was now dying.

Before leaving Dr. Seder that night,
Booth said, in a third statement, he threw
stones at the minister in the coal mine,

striking him on the head, shoulders, arms —

and upper part of the body.

a | WAS of the opinion that Dr. Seder
was either dead or dying at the time I
left him,” the third statement continued.
“When I first started throwing these rocks
at Dr. Seder I thought that he was asleep
on his right side with his back toward
me.”

With revelation of the names of Booth’s
confederates, it was disclosed that all three
of the abductors were ex-convicts ON
PAROLE.

John Travis had been paroled from the
Mansfield, Ohio, reformatory on July Ist
after being sentenced from Pickaway
County on January 16th, 1936, to serve
one to twenty years for automobile theft.
He served under an alias, James Wensfield.

Orville Adkins ‘was first arrested in
Camden, New Jersey, in 1930 for automo-
bile; theft. Arrested with Travis for the

Ohio job, he also was given one to twenty |

years. He had been paroled along with
Travis, .
Lieutenant Swann and FBI. agents
started after Travis and Adkins.
Visiting the home of Travis’ mother in
Huntington, they learned that Ttavis had
taken a bride, Miss Verla Belcher, three

days after the kidnaping, gone on a honey-~

moon trip to Burnwell, West Virginia,
and returned to the city on November
10th.

“Where is your “Son, now?” inquired
Swann,

“T don’t know,” she quavered.

The officer asked that she help locate ©

the missing man,

Within an hour, Mrs. Travis telephoned
Police Headquarters that her son was
awaiting arrest in their home. He was
promptly jailed and held under $50,000
bond,

Adkins, however, had left Huntington.

It was learned he had taken a train from’

Kenova to Fort Gay at two o’clock the

morning of November 4th. From there he

was traced four miles to the home of an

uncle, Ivy Stamey, at Salt Petre, where °

he stayed until Friday morning,

Wandering to Williamson and Chat-'

taroy, Adkins confessed to his uncle, Mon-
roe Salmons, who advised him to_sur-
render. He crossed the Big Sandy River
into Kentucky, where he sought refuge at
the home of another relative in Canada,
Pike County. Here Adkins was arrested
by local law enforcement officers and re-
turned to Huntington to .be plaged under
$50,009 bond.

Both youths promptly confessed, named
Booth as the leader, and supplied details
of the kidnaping which Booth had not
revealed.

When they entered Wayne County with

True Detective Mysteries

Dr. Seder, Booth had wanted the boys to
throw a-burlap sack over the victim’s head

‘and tie his hands with wire. They wouldn’t

use the wire for fear it would cut the
minister’s hands, and the sack was taken
off the aged man’s head when he protested.

Reaching the aba*mloned cabin, Booth
announced that a man he had hired to
guard the captive was not there. They
placed .the cleric in a closet on some old
coats and rags, then searched his pon
and found some change and the keys to
his house,

At that time Dr. Seder was asked if he
had any money in his house, and he said
there was about $25 on a shelf in the
bedroom. Booth decided that he and Ad-
kins would go back after the money and
some bedclothes for the aged man, while
Travis remained in the cabin as guard.

Deputy United States Marshal M.
E, Ketchum, who led the rescue party

So that night, Booth and Adkins re-
turned to Huntington and got the money
and bedclothes, starting back for the cabin
about midnight after obtaining a supply
of sandwiches and a pint of whisky.

While his pals were gone, Travis related,
he asked Dr, Seder to pray for him, and
the minister “prayed an awful nice prayer

for me.” At that time, Dr. Seder inquired

if the bald. man who drove the car was
not one of his tenants, and Travis denied
it.

Travis had been told to compel Dr.
Seder to write a letter to his sons demand-
ing ransom, and the cleric had complied.
Booth was shown the letter when he and
Adkins returned, but he tore it up because
he had begun, “I am held in a cave about
twenty miles southwest of Wayne, West
Virginia.” ’ ‘ i

Booth gave Travis a pencil and plain
ruled tablet and instructed him to have
sDr, Seder write a letter to his son in St.
Paul as follows:

I have been kidnaped. Four men
forced me into a car. I was on an all
night drive from Huntington. I don’t
know where I am at. They want
$30,000. For my sake meet their de-
mands, for you know what it means.

Booth approved this draft, gave Dr.
Seder a plain white envelope bearing a
special delivery stamp, had him address it
to his son in St. Paul, and told Travis to
mail it upon his return to Huntington.

Just before dawn that Tuesday, Booth

decided to move Dr, Seder from the cabin

to an abandoned mine where he had once
been employed.

“Accordingly, we put Dr. Seder into the
car, Booth driving, with me in the middle,
Dr. Séder on the outside and John Travis
riding on the running-board or on my lap,
I don’t know which,” said Adkins.

“We drove for a short time, after which
Booth stopped the car and Travis and I
helped Dr. Seder out of the car and we
started down over a mountain with Booth
in the lead carrying the bedclothing.

“After we got down the mountain it
took Booth a long time to find the mine,
but finally he found it. After checking it,
he went down in it with the bedclothes
and spread them out. He came out again,
after which Travis and I helped Dr, Seder
down into the mine and laid him on the
bedclothes.”

Then Adkins and Travis started back
to town, with instructions from Booth to
mail the letter and bring out some food,
as he was going to stay until Friday. On
Wednesday, however, the youths said
Booth returned and announced he had
killed Dr. Seder, so Adkins fled and Travis
got married and went on his honeymoon.

Each of the prisoners substantiated the
claim of the Seder family that not one
cent of ransom money had been paid.

Following the confessions, Prosecuting
Attorney Ernest E. Winters, Jr., announced
he would ask the death penalty under the
new state kidnap law.

Meanwhile, attempts to obtain a state-
ment from Dr. Seder were frustrated by
his condition. On November 14th, attend-
ing physicians announced that there was
no hope for the cleric’s recovery, and that
death might be expected at any minute.

ARALYSIS, aftermath of a blood clot

on the brain caused by a blow, had
affected all of Dr. Seder’s left side. His
nose was broken, his right ear drum shat-
tered, and his feet badly swollen.

Dr. Seder died early on the morning of
November 15th. Within four hours, Com-
mon Pleas Judge H. Clay Warth ordered
a special grand jury empaneled,

Feeling ran so high against Booth, Ad-
kins and Travis after Dr. Seder’s death
that they were hurriedly transferred to
the Kanawha County jail at Charleston
for safekeeping. They were returned No-
vember 20th for arraignment in the state
courts following indictment under the
West Virginia kidnap law, modeled after
the Federal Lindbergh Act.

United States District Attorney George
I. Neal, who had been holding the trio on
Federal warrants charging extortion, im-
mediately surrendered them to the State,

Booth was placed on trial December
6th before Judge Warth, with Attorneys
F, W. Riggs and John G, Hudson defend-
ing him through appointment by the
Court.

The defense was that Booth was men-
tally unbalanced’ at the time of the abduc-
tion, and therefore not legally responsible
for the act, Booth took the stand to admit
making the first and second confessions,
but repudiated the third in which he told
of stoning Dr. Seder while he was asleep
in the mine,

Booth charged, however, that four FBI
men had beaten him during the question-
ing. One of them, the defendant said, also
kicked him.

Booth told the jury of twelve men that
he was stripped of his clothing when he
was taken to the FBI office and kept nude
for an hour,

“While I was sitting on the cot without
any clothes on, Vetterli rushed in and
grabbed me (the defendant indicated his
throat), shook me and asked me where
the other two boys were,” Booth testified.

“Later five or six of them got around

me and
somethir
with son
On rel
physical
ing ques!
Klumpp’
Then j
deny tha
treated i
jury: “J
courtesy
Lieute
ley and
at each «
ment, It
whom Bx
was not
questioni
It may
G-men w
resorted
use of ph
confessio1
sistent, in
lets up,
evidence,

¥ Noid I
fense,
York, ag:
sistant st
State Hc
member
who test)
was not

It took
utes on
death pe
15th, exac
death, h:
Moundsv:

The jo
opened <
represent
and D. }F
families. .
to some «
_ The tw
ing, basin
claim that
by Booth
planned
second da
drunk the
it,

Miss In
who ident

-

QUESTIO:
stated tha
were able
that a m
scene of t}
footprint
the crime
derstand h
termine a1
evidence. —

ANSWER-
one of thr
where the
having bee
the head »
print imp
form of th
This heel ;
remained f
blood not |
it was ste]
a@ period o
termine th
shat the b
fore the in


his belief in the logic of investigation.

“No other angle of suspicion has been
uncovered,” he declared, “than these
three men. Booth we may suspect be-
cause of his previous trouble with Dr.
Seder. These two men are under sus-
picion because they are connected with
Booth.”

“But you’ve had them followed con-
stantly and they haven’t gone near our
father,” the Seder brothers pleaded. “Tf
they are the men who kidnaped him
there must be others to be investigated.
Unless... .”

Vetterli nodded. “Unless there is no
need for anybody to see him any more.
Let us hope not. Meanwhile, we'll keep
watching those three men.”

So Booth, Adkins, and the honeymoon-
ing Travis and his bride were kept under
constant observation.

D** after day passed. After combing
again and again every likely clump
of woods near Huntington, Swann’s
posses gave up to wait for something to
guide them. It was that or undertake
to search the whole state, a task for an
army.

Meanwhile the two Seder brothers
fretted in their hotel and in police head-
quarters, waiting for the letter or tele-
phone call that would tell them where
to go to pay the ransom, which, with
the number of every bill recorded and
already mimeographed for a general
alarm, waited in the police headquarters
safe.

Ten days after the old minister had
been seized 50-year-old Albert Ronk
went out to plow in a field on his farm
seven miles from Wayne, W. Va. A
faint sound caught his attention.

He paused to listen. The feeble cry
came again. He ran back to his home,
shouting for his nephew, Edgar Ronk.

“Come on,” he cried. “Hurry up.
We've got to go up on the hill. There’s
somebody in trouble ... we've got to
find him.”

The two men made their way up the
rocky hillside. As they neared the top
the cries became more distinct.

“I knew it!” said Albert Ronk. “I
knew it. I thought I heard something up
here last night. Then I forgot about‘it.”

“What did you hear?” asked his pant-
ing nephew as they redoubled their
speed.

“Something like somebody saying,
‘Lord, Lord, won’t somebody come to
help me?’ I thought I was imagining
it and I was scared to come up here by
myself. I wish I had.”

Another feeble moan directed the two
farmers to a depression in the rock hill-
side. There they found one of the most
ghastly sights that ever confronted any
man.

Twisting in agony in the hollow where

he had rolled as he crawled along the~

ground, lay the missing Dr. Seder. The
old man’s eyes were black and swollen.
His face was battered into a shapeless
pulp. His clothing was drenched with
blood that had streamed from his wounds,
clotted and blackened. Through his split
and swollen lips the man pleaded for
help, weakly struggling with the ropes
that still bound his wrists and knees.

“Help!” he whispered. “Help! Won't
somebody help me!”

Horror blanched the faces of the two
farmers; they recoiled for a moment, then
stooped to lift him up.

“Tt’s him!” exclaimed the younger

56

Ronk. “It’s that man that Was kidnaped.
It must be!”

“Yes, his name was Seder, Dr. Seder,”
the elder Ronk replied. “We've got to
get a doctor.”

They lifted the broken body of the
old missionary and carried him down the
hill to the farm house. When they had
called a doctor they reported to police
headquarters at Huntington. Lieut.
Swann and Vetterli sped over the twist-
ing mountain roads to the Ronk place.
The Seders were with them.

“He’s in there,” Albert Ronk told
them. “We done all we could for him.
He can’t talk any more the doctor says.
I guess I ought not to have tried to
talk to him, but I didn’t know.”

A glance ‘into the farm bedroom
satished the officers that the victim
had indeed been found and that he could
not talk to them. The doctor shook his
head. The old man probably would never
talk again, he said. Vetterli went to the
telephone, called the Huntington head-
quarters.

“Get Booth, Adkins and Travis!” he
snapped to his staff. Then, to the Ronks:
“Show us where you found him.”

Back up the hill they went to the hole
where the old man had been found.
From there his trail was clear, etched
in blood. It ran a few yards up the hill
side, stained rocks that jutted out of
the soil betraying where he had wriggled
and groped. Then the trail swung into
a hole in the hill, a small mine, long
abandoned. The sinister trail of blood
ran but a few yards into this cavern and
stopped, at a pile of bloody stones.

Helter skelter, the stones lay about a
poo of blood that had dried and hard-
ened.

[ytEUt. Swann gasped, “They threw
4 rocks at him. They tied that.old
man up in here and they threw rocks at
him!”

“Yes,” Vetterli agreed. “Look here.
He picked up a piece of slate as big as
a man’s two hands. The heavy rock
had a cruel jagged edge. This was.
flecked with bloodstains.

“This must have given Dr. Seder the
big cut on his scalp,” Vetterli said. “We'll
take all the rocks for evidence. Now tell
us what he was able to say when you
found him,” he told the Ronks.

“He mumbled something about three
men,” Albert Ronk told him. “What he
said was like this: ‘Three men, kidnaped
me, wanted a ransom, wanted $50,000.
Three of them. They threw rocks.’ Then
I asked him if he knew who the men
were and he muttered a name. It was
‘Booth. He said it over and over ‘Booth,
man named Booth. He said they
brought him to a cabin and kept him
there and then they brought him to a
mine; this hole here is an old mine, You
see, Mr. Vetterli, in these hills all the

_ mines are not down under the ground.

Some of them are like this one, running
straight into the hill, with the entrance
like a' doorway.”

Leaving Swann to see that Dr. Seder
was taken to a hospital, Vetterli returned
to Huntington to talk to his prisoners.
Booth, a portly, surly, partly bald man,
was waiting for him defiantly.

“J don’t know nothing about it!” he
said and clung to this story for hours.
Then suddenly he broke.

“All right, I done it,” he shouted.
“Then what?”

“That remains to be seen,” Vetterli

replied quietly. “Who helped you to do
the job.”

Having implicated himself, Booth
appeared actually to relish squealing on
his companions. “Travis and Adkins,”
he blurted. “It was all their idea.” He
refused to say anything more. Finally
he was led away toa cell.

A few hours later Travis was arrested
in Huntington. Orville Adkins was
traced to his mother’s home near Canada,
Ky., just across the line from West
Virginia.

“Take him,’ said the mother, Mrs.
Mary Travis.

“T wouldn’t want to be ashieldin’ any
son of mine from the law if he done
somethin’ wrong.” The officers took him.

Adkins listened to the evidence against
him and calmly admitted he had helped
in the kidnaping. He offered to sign his
brief confession and was led away after
he had done so.

More defiant was Travis. But sud-
denly he began talking, pouring: out a
torrent of detailed admission.

“Booth planned the job,” he said. “He
had a grudge against Dr. Seder. The
day of the kidnaping we had been riding
around in Booth’s car and trailing Dr.
Seder. In the early afternoon we saw
him walking in town by himself so Booth
pulled over to the curb and told me to
call the old man over.

“T leaned out of the car and called:
‘Dr. Seder. Come here. I want to talk
to you!’ He came over to the car and
he said, ‘What is it, son?’ Then he looked
inside and saw Booth and he sort of
grunted, ‘Oh, it’s you!’

“Booth told him he had come to pay
him the money he owed him on the bad
check. He said he was on the way to
the bank and asked Dr. Seder to get in.
So the old man got in the car. But
Booth didn’t stop at the bank. He kept
driving and pretty soon we were out in
the country. Dr. Seder got scared then.
We drove a long way up into the hills
and late in the afternoon we turned off
on to a dirt road that led up to a little
cabin. Booth had told us about the place
but it was the first time Adkins and I
had been there. We dragged the old
man into the cabin. ‘This is your new
home, Booth told him, It was dark
inside. There were dust and cobwebs all
over the place. There were a lot of holes
in the walls and wind came in. It was
cold in there and the old man kept shiver-
ing. Booth told him he was kidnaped
for ransom, for $50,000. Dr. Seder
laughed at him. He said he didn’t have
a thousand dollars. ‘Ain’t your boys got
the money?’ Booth asked him.

“‘D R. SEDER told him that whatever
happened he wouldn’t bring his
boys into it. Booth began writing the
ransom letter. Then he asked Dr. Seder
for his son’s address. The old man
wouldn't tell it. Booth pulled his head
up from his hands and slapped his face.
Then he smashed his fist into Dr. Seder’s
nose. He kept on pounding him, a dozen
blows anyway. Finally the old man
couldn’t stand any more. ‘All right,’ he
said, ‘I’ll tell you. And may God forgive
you!’ Booth drove away after that and
mailed the letter.

“In the morning we went back in
the shack and found the old boy asleep.
Then Orville said: ‘What about the old
man? He knows you. Won't he talk
if we turn him loose?’ Booth laughed
at Orville. ‘We ain’t going to turn him

Tass

aloose
him.’

slugge
him t
hills }
old m
Boot!
worke
the n
come

piece

Seder

me sic

‘Tm
more
Every
could:

the hil!

came

it, bor

dead:

police
erupt
stable
“M .
am tr
huh:
white
‘um 1
beat
“To
aide.
have
Ni
isn't
land,
anot!
grub
line
Ti
King
dogs
merc
to th
tion
wind
The
and 1
luks
T\
it ji
cabin
rive!
and
very
unus
Si
as
noth
was
in ¢
Wh
inte:
bel |
ness
fist
$
blizz
pour

no
“Mi
B
ans\
no
aut!
the
Red


It was in this abandoned
mine, the entrance of
which is shown above,
that Dr. Seder was held
until he finally escaped
to identify his kidnapers.


Eccihle tints

te RN Ms

ci a a

he EA

eee

cress sry

Professor Keeler's findings; the state-
ments of Dr. Cassidy and Sam Ciccione.
Matheson still was unimpressed.

“Besides,” Boyle added, “we've got Big
Sam Turriano in the next room. He's
made a full confession and he names you.’

Matheson said he didn’t believe it.
Prosecutor Boyle issued an order. Tur-
riano, limping on his artificial leg, was led
into the room.

“Here’s your old pal, Jim Matheson,”
Boyle told Sam.

Turriano eyed Jim. f

“Matheson nothing!!” He laughed.
“That’s Jim Pogue!”

So the identity of the mysterious Pogue
at last was revealed. Matheson and Pogue
were the same man!

Turriano was escorted quickly from the
room after he had revealed the correct
name of the wounded prisoner.

The mystery of identity was fully ex-
plained when Pogue, which was his true
name, admitted he had used the alias of
Matheson and had been convicted under
that name.

Pogue, to name him rightly, was visibly
unnerved at seeing Big Sam. He assumed,
knowing Turriano had betrayed his name,
that Sam also had confessed and had im-
plicated ‘him irrevocably in the double
police killing.

“Okay, I'll talk,” Pogue decided. “We
killed the two coppers, Turriano, Moore-
head and me killed ‘em.”

don’t believe there was a soul in the
world who would want to harm him.”

“Let us not be too sure,” Vetterli
cautioned. “There might be somebody
with a grudge you don’t know about.
But what about this ransom. Could
your father pay it?”

Despite. the strain of the moment
Seder smiled.

“A retired minister with $50,000!” he
exclaimed. “No, Mr. Vetterli.. My father
is a poor man. .He couldn’t raise any
thing like that. He has only his pension
as a retired minister and the rental from
one or two small pieces of property, a
few hundred dollars a year at the most. ie

“Well, could you pay it?”

“Yes. And I will if it is necessary. I
have most of the money with me and
my brother is bringing the rest from St.
Paul.” From his breast pocket Seder
drew a bulky bundle of bills and laid
them on the desk.

Vetterli and Swann nodded approval
of Seder’s business-like manner. “You
may have to pay it,” Vetterli said, “but I
hope not. In any event, Mr, Seder, please
understand that the Federal Bureau of
Investigation is not going to do any-
thing that might endanger your father
in any manner. For the present, don’t
be in too much of a hurry. Let’s try
to find the kidnaper first. Meanwhile,
suppose we record the numbers of those
bills, so that if you ever pay them we'll
have something to track the criminals
by.”

Special agents immediately set to work
recording the numbers of the bills.
Others reported to Vetterli what they
had learned in their inquiries, about

Huntington. Vetterli turned again to the ©

steel executive.
“Now about this ransom demand;

cedantnge Seder objected.

Pogue’ werit on to make, a full confes-
sion, giving details that made it a docu-
ment fully capable of convicting himself
and Big Sam. Then he grinned at Boyle.

“T get a kick out of thinking about the
time you convicted me for robbery,” he
chuckled. “I expected every day that
you'd accuse me of killing those cops.

“Believe me, it was a big load off my
chest when I finally got into Stateville
without you putting the finger on me for
the hot: seat!”

Big Bill Hanley was a pitiful spectacle.
He became a broken mah upon learning
that Pogue and Moorehead had lied to
him, that he would have been paroled in
a month if he had-not escaped. Hanley
was returned to Stateville to spend many
more years, perhaps the remainder of
his life.

Turriano, when he saw, Pogue’s signed
confession, also admitted guilt in the
murders. He and Pogue re-enacted the”
killings before motion picture cameras,
the films being saved to be shown to a
jury if necessary. The phonographic
recordings made from the apartment’ of
Hanley’s woman relative also constituted
corroborative evidence to go with the
two confessions.

Pogue pleaded guilty to murder and

* was sentenced to 199 years.in prison by

Judge Jerome Dunne. Turriano entered
a plea of not guilty; hoping to get off with -
a light sentqnneg ayn reason of the fact

4

Torture Kidnap!
[Continued from page 8]
do you recognize the handwriting?”

Seder said he didnot. :

“This -letter is fairly’ informative.
There have been: fingerprints on it,”
Vetterli pointed out, ‘ “bute “we can make
nothing of them, However, these stains
on the note are blood

“Blood?” Seder OT area.

“Yes, blood.’| But don’t leap to any.
conclusions Brot. it. There are a good '
many. explanations for its condition.
This letter was mailed from this neigh-
borhood. Let us see what we have’

learned, .

WPearned’? But we., pene learned

“O# YES. First, nidhough you be-
lieve your: father | to have no

. enemies, he has at least one. Because

he was, kidnaped by someone who knows
him, and knows him fairly well. You
see, people don’t kidnap just anybody;
they select a victim who can pay ransom,
Now in ‘the case of a prominent banker
or the like, it is obvious that he could pay
ransom, But there was nothing about
Dr. Seder to suggest that he could pay
ransom. You gentlemen, his sons, could.
But ttobody would know that ‘unless he
was well acquainted with Dr. Seder.”

Lieut: Swann: nodded agreement.
Seder conceded that the federal a ssid s
analysis was plausible.

“Second,” Vetterli- “resumed, “your
father. must be held a prisoner not far’
from Huntington, So we'will follow his
movements, according to’ the special
agents’ reports, which were given me
awhile ago, Dr. Seach left home the
morning of November 1 'He made a
series of calls here in ‘Huntington, We

have been able.to trail him to lunch time.
hapanalery

that he had not fired any of the fatal
shots.

Testifying against Turriano in his trial
were Dr. Cassidy and Sam Ciccione. They
admitted their parts in harboring and as-
sisting the three killers. However, they
could not be prosecuted because the
statute of limitations, three years for
such an offense, had expired.

A jury convicted Turriano and Judge
Dunne sentenced him to 199 years, the
same term as Pogue.

Guard James Black, slugged by Hanley
at the honor farm, recovered after weeks
of hospitalization. Thus, Hanley was
saved from a murder charge.

Policeman Kehoe watched with grim
satisfaction as Turriano and Pogue were
loaded into an armored car and returned
to Stateville. Prosecutor Boyle remarked
the two killers could emerge from behind
penitentiary walls only under one condi-
tion, after death effects their release.

Meanwhile the body of Ed Moorehead
had been placed in an unmarked ‘grave in
Potter’s Field.

“T’m satisfied,” Policeman Kehoe said.
“I swore that someday I’d see those rats
get their punishment. It took me more

. than four years but they got what they

deserved.”
In Police Commissioner James: P, All-

' man’s office that day a recommendation

was. received that Policeman Kehoe be
advanced to the rank of sergeant.

He ate with a friend here. He left to
call on:a poor family on the edge of
town. He has been helping this family.
He-was. last seen walking down the
street.

“From that street he disappeared.
There is no further trace of him.”

“But’a man just can’t disappear in
broad daylight, walking down the street,”
Seder protested.

“Yet he did, Mr. Seder,” Lieut. Swann
broke in. “He did disappear just that
way and we haven’t been able to pick
up any clew to him in this town.”

“Therefore he isn’t in town,” Vetterli
resumed. “Yet, as I said, he cannot be
far away. He was abducted sometime in
the afternoon of November 1. This letter
you received was mailed early the next
day from this neighborhood, If the kid-

‘naper had been going to take your father
.some distance away he would have ar-

rived there by the ‘time the letter was
mailed. It is possible, of course, that the
kidnaper had the letter prepared in ad-
vance, to be mailed here and throw us
off the trail,:while your father was
spirited off to some hideout a good
distance away.’ But, we can fairly reason
that such was not the case. Because, if
that had been done the letter would have
been mailed immediately after the kid-
naping instead of the next morning. ~
“That gives ‘something tangible to
work on. We know what section to start
searching. Lieut.. Swann already has
posses out. They may pick-up some
trail, The circumstances give us another

clue. We can’t get away from the fact |

that your father did disappear off the

street. There is one way he could have’.
done it. He could have entered an auto-

mobile.”

”
+}

“Hy
pointe
“Th

incide
naper
whom
forced
have
have
in wil
it. I
willin
“Tr
hard
to fin
that d
are sc
not €)
ONY
groun
“This
Supp
and
have
be so
conti:
ton.”

Te
b:
from
FBI
static
enter
held
“W

ot

“He had no automobile,” the son
pointed out.

“Then the kidnaper has. And_ that,
incidentally goes to show that the kid-
naper was somebody who knew him, and
whom he knew. Because if he had been
forced into an automobile there would
have been a disturbance, which might
have attracted attention. But if he got
in willingly nobody would have observed
it. I think it probable he got in the car
willingly, suspecting nothing.

“The Huntington officers have worked
hard at it but they have not been able
to find any trace of such a car. However,
that doesn’t prove anything. Automobiles
are sO common that nobody notices one,
not even a kidnaper’s.

“Now we have about covered the
ground,” the FBI agent concluded.
“This is about all we can do at present.
Suppose, Mr. Seder, you get some rest
and meet us here later tonight. We will
have more reports then and there may
be some good news. Meanwhile, we will
continue investigation here in Hunting-
ton.”

EB Boats night, now accompanied by his
brother, Arthur, who had _ arrived
from St. Paul, Seder returned to the
FBI field headquarters in the police
station. Vetterli shook his head as they
entered. “No news, yet,” he said. He
held up a sheaf of papers.

“We have begun a tabulation of every-
body in town who knew your father. We
hope to have it complete by tomorrow.
Somewhere on that list will be the name
of the kidnaper.”

There was no news the next day either.
Dr. Seder’s two sons, their nerves frayed
by the agonizing waiting at the head-
quarters, joined the posses that were
combing the hills around Huntington.
They had no success. On the third day,
Willard Seder proposed to move to pay
the ransom.

“You don’t know where to pay it, or
to whom,” the officers reminded him.

“But I could advertise or something?”

“You could, but I am afraid it would
not help,” Vetterli explained. “The
newspapers have said that you are here,
that you are willing to pay the ransom.
They have told where you are in Hunt-
ington. The kidnapers will get in touch
with you. I advise you to wait for an-
other letter.”

Not until the third night of the investi-
gation was there a break of any sort.
Then Vetterli returned from a careful
search of Dr. Seder’s private papers with
a clew.

“FBI agents have interviewed every
person known to have been acquainted
with your father,” he told the Seder
brothers. “And what you had to say
about his having no enemies is amply
confirmed. Everybody who knew him
held him in the highest esteem; every-
body is shocked by his kidnaping. And
none of these people, as far as we can
find, is open to suspicion. But I have a
name now to add to the list... .”

The federal man explained that he had
gone through Dr. Seder’s private papers
and files for some years back. As Willard
Seder had said, the old minister had only
a small income, by way of a pension, and
the rental from his small pieces of prop-
erty in West Virginia, near Huntington.
The tenant farmers who occupied this
land had paid their rent monthly. Buried
in Dr. Seder’s files the FBI men had
come across the record of what appar-

ently was the only altercation the old
missionary had with any person in all
his 79 years of life.

There had been a tenant named Arnett
Booth, who gave Dr. Seder a bad check
for his rent. The check had returned
from the bank and had embarrassed Dr.
Seder. Indignant over the deception,
wholly unnecessary because he would
have granted the man more time if he
had been asked, Dr. Seder had demanded
his money and finally had told the man
to move.

Lieut. Swann, from the archives of
the Huntington police department, im-
mediately contributéd data on Arnett
Booth. The man was a former con-
vict with a reputation as a bad actor!
Since the quarrel with the kidnaped man
Booth had been living on another farm
nearby. Swann and Vetterli immediately
assigned men to watch the farm with
instructions to keep Booth always in
sight.

“The man might be innocent, Mr.
Seder,” Vetterli explained. “Or, if he is
involved, the best way to find your father
is to watch him, to let him lead us to the

-place where your father is hidden.”

“But can’t you do something?” Seder
protested. “This waiting is nearly driv-

ing us crazy. We sit here, or we go
through the woods, getting no. where,
and all the time my poor old father,
who never harmed anybody in his whole
life, is in the hands of these fiends! Why
don’t they write again? Why don’t they
make some move?”

“We're doing all that can be done,”
Swann reminded him gently. “Try to
have patience awhile longer.”

The next day the men watching Booth

‘reported-he had done nothing suspicious.

“A couple of men went to his house to
see him,” one of the officers said. “They
were Orville Adkins and John Travis.”

Swann set the local police to checking
these men,

“Both in their early twenties, both
Huntington natives. No criminal rec-
ords,” he reported shortly afterward.

The next day John Travis did some-
thing which appeared certainly to clear
him of any connection with the kidnap-
ing. He got married. With his childhood
sweetheart he left on a honeymoon to
a nearby town. The Seders, their nerves
frayed by worry and lack of sleep, were
willing to concede this was a blind lead.
And they were ready to be suspicious of
anybody!

Vetterli was surprised, but unmoved in

“Kin I have the night off?”

on
ur


—  Bkas Sorry S “(RAYS

~~

” OFFAIC/AL

Snatch of the Reverend
Doctor Seder -

By Detective Harry Farris

Huntington, West Virginia, Police Department,

Perhaps no one not a resi-
dent of Huntington, West
Virginia, can realize what a sensation
this announcement caused on Novem-
ber 2, 1937. Once the news got around,
folks could not have been more ex-
cited if the town had been bombed
from the air. For there was not a
man, woman or child among the city’s
80,000 population who wasn’t ac-
quainted with Doctor Seder. He was a
retired minister. For years he had
been Superintendent of the State’s
Anti-Saloon League. But the Rev-
erend James I. Seder would have been
well known even if he had not been
in public life at all. He would have
been known for his benevolence, his
kindness. He had been performing
acts of charity for years. He was 79
years old. Unquestionably, he was
Huntington’s most beloved citizen.
And he had disappeared—under mys-
terious circumstances!

It was a few minutes before 9 p.m.
when I received the telephone call
from Headquarters. I hustled over to
Doctor Seder’s residence at No. 2501
Eighth Avenue and was met by a small
group of worried friends who had
gathered there. Detectives Leslie J.
Swann and Roy Hagley had reached
the Seder home about a moment be-
fore me. The three of us started ask-
ing plenty of questions.

Allan Waite, who occupied one side
of the duplex house with his family,
informed us that all lights and gas fires
in the Seder apartment were burning
that morning when he went to work.
When he returned that evening he
noticed these same lights and fires
still aglow, with no signs of life inside.
He had become uneasy. The retired
dry crusader was living alone in the

a Des SEDER is missing!”

24

duplex house. His wife was conva-
lescing in a St. Paul, Minnesota, hos-
pital from a fractured hip. His three
children were married and residing in
distant States,

Mr. Waite told us he had phoned
Mrs. C. S. Chandler, Doctor Seder’s
secretary. Mrs. Chandler had already
come over and told us what she knew.
She said her employer had been
scheduled to go to the City Hall at
eight o’clock that evening to attend
a mass meeting sponsored by the
Huntington Rescue Mission. Upon re-
ceipt of Mr. Waite’s telephone call she
had investigated and found that Doc-
tor Seder had failed to keep the ap-
pointment, and, accompanied by her
husband, she had rushed over to the
Eighth Avenue home.

They had found the house locked,
but were able to get in through an
open rear door in the kitchen—a door,
by the way, which the minister had
always kept locked and barred. Find-
ing the aged man absent after a care-
ful search through the house and
noticing his bedroom in disorder, they
had become alarmed and notified the
police.

We inspected all the rooms. Except
for the bedroom, the house was in per-
fect order and there was nothing to
indicate that the missing man might
be the victim of foul play as these
friends and neighbors were inclined
to suggest. Yet the strange condition

Detectives believed that a
“rubber check” found in
Doctor Seder’s home,
shown at right, might
furnish an important clew

one ee

as Told to

Walden ‘Snell

Doctor James |, Seder,
left, retired 79-year-old:
minister, had a smile and
a kind word for all, and
when ‘he disappeared . .°,

of this one room, always immaculate
according to the secretary, was indeed
puzzling.

The bed had been stripped of all
coverings, including one pillow, and
the bottom sheet was freshly torn and
rumpled. Mrs. Chandler pointed out
that a quilt, a favorite of the Doctor’s,
was missing and that she had never
known this coverlet to be off the bed
at any time.

Thrown over the back of a chair
was a suit of clothes, an indication
that the missing man was either in his
pajamas or underclothes when he left
the house. But the fact that his hat

«
a 3

LE Te

Cri.

FS LALSIBE

and shoes were gone also indicated
that he might have worn another suit.

There was also the possibility that
Doctor Seder might have been unex-
pectedly called out of the city, that
he might have gone to visit his in-
jured wife or one of his children.
This theory, however, was promptly
dispelled by the secretary, who de-
clared that he would never have taken
such a trip without first notifying her.

Mrs. Chandler also pointed out the
fact that the aged man was almost
blind and never went out without a
cane and at night used a flashlight as
well. A search through the house re-
vealed the only three canes he was
known to possess resting in their ac-
customed place in the living-room. But
the flashlight was missing.

The missing bed covers, the presence
of the three canes, and the open


f

! me what hap-
WAad

on had suddenly «
she brushed her
igged helplessly.
‘{ when I awoke
rat chair, bleed-

e turned toward
now about this?”
i despairingly at

n't know how it
‘ulatively for a

1 between them.
mportant things
i- fencing, and
1 picked up the
to report the
Detective Lieu-
omas P. Quinn,
‘homicide squad.

; deliberate, yet ~

arrived at the
ment half an
accompanied by
ackBothelo;Ser-
~-* Rodenhurst,
be pher; Dr.

3; County

ner Hono-

s, examining the
quickly discov-
ause of her vio-

vad, Lieutenant,”
he carotid artery
evered, resulting
il hemorrhage.
on the outside
m the jugular
h has also been
as you can. see,
numerous cuts
>and neck.”
as it done with?”
ed, frowning.
n't say exactly,”
replied. ‘‘How-
vounds are pretty

od.
> girl’s disfigured

girl's body had
a four-inch knife
ion it, but water
ade from the fau-
knife carefully in

seene had taken
s overturned, the
nd crockery, and

“tered over the

ood on the
on the rear
on page 109)

i | | © Af (RH)
ADS, Booyl AF CANVCS

4

|HUNTINGION

{WEST VIRGINIA’S

CAVE KIDNAPPING

Above, right: Arrow indicates
mouth of cave near Hunting-
ton, West Virginia, to which
feeble, 79-year-old Dr. James
1, Seder was dragged by kid-
nappers and held for $50,000
ransom. The aged physician
died as a result of exposure
and his kidnappers face death

under the Lindbergh law,

Left: Dr. James |. Seder, for-
mer West Virginia dry leader,
who was kidnapped and held
eleven days in a damp cave out-
side Huntington, West Vir
ginia. He was found by two
farmers who answered his cries
for help. He had been Im.

prisoned without food.

Right: John Travis, 25-year-
old West Virginian, who
pleaded gullty when arralgned
before a United States com-
missioner on Federal extortion
charges in connection with the
Dr. Seder case. He also faces
death under the Lindbefgh law

which the state may invoke.

Left: G-Men supervise the re-
moval of the elderly victim
to a hospital after the farmers
had found him beaten and de-
lirious after being held for
eleven days by his abductors
in a deserted cave. The physi-

cian died some days later.

Right: Arnett J. Booth, one of
the three ex-convicts arrested
in connection with the Dr.
Seder abduction and death. To-
gether with John Travis and
Orville Atkins he was cap-
tured by G-Men after Dr. Seder

West Virginia farmers.

FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE

had been discovered by two .


to you about the bootlegger,.did she?”

“Why, no,” Skidmore admitted. “She
‘old Bill, and he passed the information
along to me. Why, even last night Jewell
didn’t say anything directly about the
whisky runner, I just supposed everything
would go according to plan and. . .”

“Just a minute,” Dean interrupted. “At
what time did Bill leave you there at the
garage to take Jewell home?”

“A little after 10—maybe 10:15. Why?”

“Tl. know why, I’ll bet, when we get
back to the hospital.”

The records there showed that Bill
Stephens had arrived with his dead wife
at 11:10 p.m. Sheriff Dean asked for the
topcoat which had been wrapped around
the body, and an attendant produced it.
After a brief examination of the garment,
Dean motioned to Skidmore to follow and
led the way to the room in which Stephens
had spent the night.’

The young man was still in bed. The
sedative had given him a good night’s rest.
He greeted the sheriff and the deputy
drowsily.

“Found out anything yet about who shot
Jewell?” he asked.

Dean nodded. “A few things, son.” The
sheriff sat in a chair over the back of
which Stephens’ coat was draped. His
hand brushed the jacket’s pockets, and
dived into one of them. It came up with
a snub-nosed .32-caliber revolver. A

. Blance told the officer that one of five

cartridges in the weapon had been fired.

There was complete silence in the room.
The sheriff sat hefting the weapon in the
palm of his hand, his eyes downcast. When
at last he looked up his level gaze was
directed upon the face of the pale young
man in the bed. “Want to tell me about it,
Bill?” he asked, and the sorrow in his
voice “was unmistakable.

Stephens gulped.
agreed. “I didn’t want this known if it
could be helped, but Jewell committed
suicide.”

“Go on,’
rest of it.”

“She realized some time ago that she
wasn’t in love with me. She accused me
of cheating on her. She was a moody girl
at times. She tried once or twice to kill
herself, but I was with her and talked her
out of it.

“Last night she got mad about the ring.
She suspected that I planned to give it
to somebody else. On the way home we
quarreled about it, and I handed it over,
just to please her. She threw it out the
window.

“Like I said, that ring wasn’t mine. It
was only security on a little loan, and the
owner might want it back. So I stopped
ites for it, but I couldn’t find the blamed
thing.

“When I returned to the car Jewell
pulled that gun out of her purse. She
pointed it at me, and said, ‘Now I’ve got
you just where I want#you.’ I made a
grab for the revolver, and she hit me with
it in the face.”

Stephens paused, to show the sheriff a
small bruise on the bridge of his nose.

“That blow hurt. I couldn’t see for a
moment. Before my sight returned I heard
a shot. Then I saw Jewell, with the gun
in her hand, slumped down in. the seat.”

Stephens said he wrapped her in his top-
coat and sped as fast as possible to the
hospital.

“You’ve got to believe me, Tom,” he
pleaded. “That’s exactly the way it hap-
pened,”

“You didn’t strike her?” Dean queried.
“You didn’t fight with her out in the road?”

“No. I’ve told you the truth.” ’

Dean slowly shook his head.
you had, Bill. I was a friend of your
dad’s. I’ve been your friend since you
could toddle, and I'd give anything to be

’

Dean urged. “Let’s hear the

“T wish

“I might as well,” he:

able to believe you. But I’ve got to arrest
you for the murder of your wife.”

Too many circumstances in the crime, he
went on to explain, denied the possibility
of suicide.

Topcoat A Clue

In the first place it would have been
impossible for Jewell Stephens to have
fired the bullet into her breast at: the
angle at which it entered. The gun’s
muzzle had been held about a foot away
from her sweater and the slug had gone
straight through her heart.

For another thing, there were the bruises
on her face. “The doctor says she died
almost instantly,” the sheriff revealed.
“Those bruises could not have occurred

City to help in convicting Bill Stephens.
Jewell Stephens was slain on the night
of December 17,.1937. Her husband was
brought to trial in the Rogers County dis-
trict court in the following March term.
After three days of hearing evidence, the
jury retired and reached a verdict in two
hours.

The jurors found Stephens guilty of
murder and fixed his sentence at life im-
prisonment. Within a week the young
man was back amid familiar scenes at
McAlester, not this time as a guard, how-
ever, but as a number that might remain
until death canceled it off the warden’s
books.

And death did erase it. In 1944 Stephens
died in prison following an operation.

after death. You fought with Jewell, and « Eprtor’s Note: To spare pessible embar-

outside the car, too. We found her heel-
prints in the shoulder beside the road.”

Another damning piece of evidence re-
mained in the topcoat. Stephens had said
he wrapped it around his wife after she
shot herself. In that event, Dean pointed
out, the inside of the left breast of the
coat would have been bloodstained, but,
instead, it was the outer right side of the
garment which had been soaked with
blood. ; .

Obeying the sheriff’s order, Bill Stephens
got out of bed and dressed, In Dean’s car
he grabbed for a shotgun and tried to kill
himself, but the officers wrested the
weapon from him and handcuffed him.
They took him, not to the jail in Clare-
more, but to the. lockup in Pryor, the
seat of adjoining Mayes County. They
feared mob vengeance in his home baili-
wick once the news of his arrest became
known.

While Stephens remained in jail await-
ing trial, Sheriff Dean worked to establish
the real motive for the slaying.

He discovered that it was not Jewell,
but her husband, who was dissatisfied with
their marriage. He had attempted to ob-
tain a separation, and had even made the
primary moves toward obtaining a divorce.

During their married life he had never
contributed a cent to her support. He
spent his own income on other girls, thus
forcing her to continue in her post as a
schoolteacher in order to maintain herself.

Dean became convinced that Jewell had
never told her husband the fantastic story
of the whisky runner. The wise old sher-
iff saw this fabrication as part of an elab-
orate plot by Bill Stephens on the life of
his unwanted bride.

“He figured he would have an unbreak-
able alibi in Henry Skidmore, an officer
of the law,” the sheriff declared. “He
might have gotten away with murder, too,
except that he overlooked one little detail.
It was the clue that convinced me that
Bill had killed Jewell.”

County Attorney D. M. Battenfield was
listening to Dean’s report on the crime.

“What was that detail?” he wanted to.

know.

“Bill and Jewell left Skidmore out by the
garage at not later than 10:15 the night of
the shooting,” the sheriff pointed out. “They:
should have made it in to Chelsea within
15 minutes at the most. Give Bill an extra
15 minutes to look for the ring before this
mysterious figure loomed out of the night
and shot Jewell. Still he should have
reached the hospital by 10:45. But he didn’t
get there until ten minutes past 11. There
was only one way to explain all that time.
He and Jewell parked along the road and
had a fight. He beat her up, and finally
shot her. And then he took his own sweet
time about getting her to the hospital. He
planned that crime, and planned it care-
fully. But, like all killers, he slipped up.”

In response to a request from Prosecu-
tor Battenfield, Assistant Attorney Gen-
eral Owen G. Watts came from Oklahoma

rassment to innocent persons, the names
Teddy Enright and Gigi Amler, used in
this story, are not real but fictitious.

Loose Noose

WHAT happens if a condemned man
drops through the gallows trap but does
not die? Has he been legally hanged? A
certain American instinct of sportsman-
‘ship clamors that he has. ‘However, the
law’s ariswer lies in the full phraseology
of the sentence—“to be hanged by the neck
until you are dead.” ;

In Pittsburgh in 1903 young Charlie
Byers was condemned to the scaffold for
taking part in a murder. The gallows was
set up in the old Allegheny County
jailyard. ;

The law provided that the sheriff, a
doctor, a clergyman and at least two others
must be present to pronounce the culprit
dead. More than the required two others
watched Byers climb the 13 steps; they
were newspapermen who had _ fortified
themselves amply against the spectacle
with uncounted rounds. of bourbon.

When the trap was sprung the noose
slipped up around .Byers’ forehead. He
fainted. It is unrecorded how the doctor,
sheriff and minister made the error, but
the reporters could possibly have been
excused for certifying that the doomed
man was dead. He was carried inside to a
slab.

Suddenly Byers sat bolt ‘upright. The
bugeyed witnesses could scarcely believe
what they saw, much less what their ears
told them.

“Thank God that’s over!” Byers weakly
exclaimed.

But he was wrong. They took him back
out and finished the job.

This is, however, neither the only case
on record of a loose noose requiring a
second hanging nor the sole occasion when
a medical man erroneously pronounced
a man dead.

As late as March 21, 1938, at Mounds-
ville, O., one Arville Adkins dropped pre-
maturely through the trap. The rope
slipped off his head and he crashed un-
onscious in the pit below. _He woke up

lieving he had been hanged; a few
minutes later he was.

Otis Bridges, a 30-year-old Negro, was
shot 11 times in a gun battle with police in
Dayton, O., on September 24, 1927. In-
ternes at the scene pronounced him offi-
cially dead.

Bridges was carted into an undertaker’s
parlor and laid out.’ To the mortician’s
wonder and alarm, Bridges stirred and
came to life. He was taken to a hospital,
and eventually did die of his wounds.

—Wiuiam F. CiarK

LIC L®L

Litbeog t ty-# att

netioheiis

1

(Cc

they were
Hardy’s chéz
he told this
“That's
been there
That pre
story; with
that the pai
friendly te
Anglada
have a gui
Hardy sh
bottle,” he
Anglada,
over the ir
and Hardy
of the thre
on the bus
after she w
But ther:
between th
.the cab ri
waited all
visited som
Street anc
dropped of!
The trio
be the cass
was a loca
was he—A
Hyland or
bottle?
Hardy di
being not
brown sui
realized th:
estimated t
It was n
of the gir
and where
Anglada
start some
why not a
land, giver
was corre
much trou
Newman
plan and r:
Turning. t
our work
Hylands i
The chie
any on R«
Newman
“There’s c
“about tw
Anglada
walked tw
He dispat«
up Jeff FE
address.
“Pll put
other Hyl:
he told tk
The offi
lead to 1
Anglada }
“That
knew a ra
mean he’s
to keep a
joints ton
The po!
arrange wv
Desault s:
to identify
Cook ar
no Jeff H:
Avenue a
from the
lands amc
ordered a


kitchen door gave credence to the terest in a case unless a Federal law

theory that the minister might have has been violated, Lieutenant Swann
been attacked while asleep, then been B S 4 d p ij Cc b ad ew the he ang Secord of ho
rolled into the bedclothes and carried en an e wante em in on the
out through the rear pict 5 There was oy cou 3 an olice om e ab 0a ah wa iggy eo in-
no indication of any rob ery attempt. y : ; j vestigation disclose at a kidnaping
Fast What procedure should be taken the Hills Near ‘Huntington, West had been perpetrated,
to find the missing man was a problem, t Neither of the sons could recall a
There was nothing to indicate wheth-

Vj wee f Thi L bl Old Cit single enemy in their ae. er oe
er his disappearance was voluntary or = refused to entertain the thought of fou
involuntary. There remained the pos- irginia, or IS : ova e Tl play. Both were of the Opinion that
sibility of kidnaping, although Waite the aged parent had become the victim
was positive he had seen the aged man zen But Only Three Men Knew—— of amnesia and had wandered off.
inside the apartment as late as 7:30 ' ; This theory was also advanced by
the Previous evening and had heard no Doctor E. F. Reaser, assistant super-
a or disturbing noises during the ee nak of the Renae te ae
night. pital and a personal frien

missing man. The psychiatrist was
convinced that Doctor Seder was “suf-
fering from a psychosis incident to old
age and was in hiding somewhere
from an imaginary foe.”

NDER orders’ from Lieutenant
Swann, Hagley and I checked all
railroad and bus stations that night as
well as taxicab companies. The trans-
portation officials reported that no one
resembling Doctor Seder had _ pur-
chased a ticket and no taxi had had a
call to the Eighth Avenue residence
for weeks. Nor had a_taxi-driver
picked him up on the Streets.

As a matter eof precaution, lest we
become unduly suspicious, long-dis-
tance calls to the St. Paul hospital and
to Doctor Seder’s sons were placed.
We learned that the retired minister
had not been seen—had not been ex-
pected, in fact. Upon the request of
the two sons, both business Officials,
we deferred further action until their
arrival in Huntington.

The two sons—Raymond, comptrol-
ler of the C. St. P.M. & O. Railroad in
St. Paul, Minnesota, and Willard, an
official with the Bethlehem Steel Cor-
poration in Pittsburgh, reached the
city the next day by airplane. They
immediately went into a conference
with us.

Called into that same conference was
James D. Reynolds, head of the Fed-
eral Bureau of Investigation offices in
Huntington. Although Federal agents
are not permitted to take an active in-

Pus explanation of the strange van-

ishing was given added emphasis
when a search through the Seder home
two hours later failed to disclose a
fourth cane, a recent gift from Ray-
mond, the elder son. And the missing
flashlight added to the theory of a
voluntary disappearance.

At the request of the sons, hundreds
of circulars bearing a photographic
likeness of the missing man and _ his
description were printed. These were
forwarded to police within a 500-mile
radius, while the West Virginia State
Police were asked to join in the hunt.
Our Detective Bureau was compelled
to adopt a watchful-waiting policy.
Hagley and I were assigned to the
case.

I have worked with Roy Hagley for
years and I do not believe a smarter
detective ever lived. He is of the ag-
8ressive type, intuitive and shrewd,
with that rare faculty of grasping the
very clew that might appear trivial to
many investigators.

Together we have cracked several
difficult cases, but as we strolled out

Mrs. C..S. Chandler, right, notified police of her employer’s disappear-
ance. . And Mrs. Verla Travis, at. left, went on a honeymoon }

Disorder in the bedroom, below, gave indication
of. foul. play, so the missing man’s daughter and
sons rushed to the scene. Left to right, Raymond
Seder of St. Paul, Mrs. Allen T. Burns, New
York, and Willard Seder, Pittsburgh

apnea ‘srercta—


2 Saka cas Uta

KIDNAP CLASSICS

WEST VIRGINIA’S BUNGLING KIDNAPERS

by HIRAM HERBERT

The kidnap “mob” had plans for big money when they
snatched Dr. Seder from his Huntington home, but they lost
their nerve when it was time for the big pay-off

more respected and beloved than Dr. James I.
Seder. Although 79 years old, he still stood an
erect 6 feet and weighed 200 pounds. A retired
minister, he did considerable writing for religious
publications and employed two secretaries in his
downtown office. He held the degree of doctor of
philosophy from Northwestern University and was
widely known, not only in America, but in Canada,
England and Germany, and in Japan, where he had
been a missionary. He had two sons, one an official
of the Minneapolis and St. Paul Railroad, the other
an executive of a Pittsburgh steel company, and a
married daughter living in New York City. He had
an ample income from his writings and from a num-
ber of properties which he rented to tenants. Thus,
even in retirement, he led a busy and rewarding
life, content in the knowledge of accomplishment.
At 8:30 p.m. on Monday, November 1, 1937, the
doorbell of his home on Eighth Avenue rang. The
doctor and his wife occupied the lower apartment
of the two-family house which he owned, but right
now the elderly man was alone there. His wife was
visiting their son in St. Paul. He had expected her
home earlier, but she had telephoned him that, due
to a fall on the ice which had injured her leg, she
would be obliged to remain there another week
or two.

At the ringing of the bell Dr. Seder rose from his
desk, adjusted his thick-lensed spectacles and went
to the door. He opened it to a tall, thin man with a
gaunt face, a soiled felt hat on the back of his bald
head.

I: HUNTINGTON, West Virginia, no one was

MASTER DETECTIVE MAGAZINE, JUNE, 1962,

Almost blind, Dr. Seder couldn't fight his captors

4

“Oh,” Dr. Seder said, with some displeasure, “it’s
you. What do you want with me at this time of
night?”

“I just came to make good on that bad check I
gave you,” the caller answered with a twisted grin.

“Oh, yes.” With an effort Dr. Seder brought his
mind back from the work in which he had been
absorbed. “That was $30, I believe.”

“That’s right, Doc. It’s $30. But I’ll need you to go
along with me, so’s to get the cash.”

“Why is that necessary?”

“I’ve got a check for $60. You drive along with
me to Wayne and I can cash it. Then I’ll pay you the
$30 and bring you back home.”

“Can’t you cash it here in Huntington?”

“You know it’s hard for me to cash a check in
this town.”

Dr. Seder considered. Wayne, 18 miles south, was
the county seat of adjoining Wayne County. This
man, a tenant of his who owed him $30, had been a
constant problem. It would be good to get the mat-
ter settled. The night was yet young. Besides, the
house was lonely, with his wife away. The ride
might do him good. .

“All right,” he said. “I’ll get my hat and coat.”

A moment later, not stopping to put out the lights
or lower the gas flames in the grates throughout the
apartment, Dr. Seder stepped out on the porch.
“Just a moment,” he said. “I must get my cane.” He
turned to reenter the house.

“You won’t need a cane, Doc.” The man gripped
the elderly doctor firmly by the arm. “I'll help you
along. You won’t need to do any walking.”

The doctor yielded. Not in many years had he left
the house without carrying one of his three white
canes, for his vision was extremely poor.

His tenant led him to a small sedan parked in
front of the house, opened the door for him and the
doctor slid in. The door closed. The man hurried
around and got under the wheel.

The car was in motion before the doctor realized
that two other men were sitting silently in the rear
seat. As the car roared down the dark street, the
driver turned to the startled doctor and said ma-
levolently, “Right slick, eh, Doc?” :

“What do you mean?” the elderly man asked.

“You just sit quiet, Doc. Real quiet. And nothing
will happen to you. You are valuable property.”

Hoars passed before the doctor was missed from his home

Some 45 minutes later the car left the main high-
way and took a rugged, twisting road that climbed
higher and higher into the black chill of the
autumn night. Once, as the driver was maneuver-
ing a tight curve, Dr. Seder reached for the door
handle, intent upon leaping out, but clawing fingers
gripped him from behind. He settled back, realizing
that at his age, resistance was useless.

The rough, mysterious journey continued for an-
other 30 minutes. Then the car stopped. The engine
died. The silence of the mountain night was un-

ASS/

®uo (TTeqeg) *eA °*M pesuey

W

*tz yo

M *STAVEL 2 HIOOd *SNTNCY

‘satu


it on the lam. ‘We're in a spot,’ he
lied. “The old man got tough and I
had to kill him!”

“Now his reasons were clear. With his
two ‘partners out of the way, Booth
could keep all the ransom money. First
inkling for them that Dr. Seder was
_ alive, came from the newspapers, which
the frightened Adkins saw in Ken-
tucky and the newly married Travis
saw in Burnwell.

Dips seidealgee by the signed con-
fessions of his two youthful part-
ners in crime, Booth cursed vilely. “I
knew the dirty little rats didn’t have
the guts to go through with it!” he
sneered.

He admitted master-minding the
crime and confessed that he had de-
serted Seder in the mine shaft. He never
intended to return the victim, he said,
after collecting the ransom. He ex-
plained callously how he threw heavy
rocks at the head of his prisoner, try-
ing to silence his pitiful moans.

While Federal and local officers
gathered the evidence with which they

ree ee ee

hoped to convict the gang of. kidnap-
ping, murder was added to their crimes.
On November 15, 1937, weakened by
ten days of exposure without food of
water, and an ordeal which would have

killed a stronger man, Dr. James I. °

Seder's iron constitution snapped and
he died. :

The only question remaining was to
decide whether to charge them with
kidnapping or murder. The prosecu-
tor’s office decided on kidnapping.

At the trial, there were many tears.
Mrs. Travis, the aged mother and Mrs.
Travis, the tearful, innocent bride, both
testified. Booth’s father took the stand.
The defense pleaded that the -three
were victims of liquor. .

The jury refused to agree. When
they brought in their verdict, Judge
H. C. Warth gave the three kidnap-
pers a maximum. mandatory - sentence:
“. . and so to be hanged by the neck
until you are dead, and may the Lord
have mercy on your souls!”

On the 21st of March, 1938, at
Moundsville State Prison, the three were

hanged on the gallows. Dr. Seder was -

avenged.

HER HEART SKIPPED TOO

went inside. Almon Brewer sat slumped
down in a chair, his legs extending full
length. The sheriff took a seat opposite
a studied the soles of the man’s shoes.
They bore no traces of straw nor did
their general contour fit any of the pat-
terns seen in the road snow.

“A few more questions, Mr. Brewer,
he said, apologetically. “For a starter,
mind giving me the names of everyone
who ever came to this house. That is,
men, of course. Think carefully. Some-
one you least suspect may have done
this thing tonight.”

Brewer rubbed his forehead. “All
right,” he said. “But don't think I’m
going to accuse anyone. I haven't the
slightest idea who'd have done this to
Olga.”

Brewer furrowed his brow, started
thinking. “There's Max Danzig, he final-
ly said, “a neighbor of ours. “Frank
Strassi, who lives just beyond him. Nick
Leon—his place is about 200 yards back
ef me. They're all men who have come
over here, sometimes to play cards or
drink some beer. They're all my
friends.” ‘

‘Maybe. Any of them do farming?”

“They have small gardens, if that's
what you mean.”

The sheriff shook his head. “Not ex-
actly. I'm thinking of someone who's
around cows or horses.”

Brewer looked up. “There is one,” he
said suddenly, “As a matter of fact, he
was here tonight—around supper time.
He wanted to borrow some money, but
I wouldn't lend him any. Oh, I've got
it in the bank! But he’s bad pay. Owes
me some for about six months.”

“E take it you turned him down.”

“That's what I told you.”

“How did he act?”

“He was good and sore.”

The sheriff was making notes. “Who
is the man you're talking about?”

Brewer hesitated. “Look! I ain't—”

“What's his name?”

“Barney Beekman.”

Bassett jotted down
“How'd he get up here?”

“In a truck belonging to his boss,
Frank Shayne. You know, the man who
owns the big farm about a mile down
the highway.”

The sheriff felt his nerves tingle, and
he tried to conceal his emotion. “You
Say it was suppertime? You mean,
around six?”

the name.

“Yes. Just about.”

“Did Beekman stay long?”

“No. He jumped on his truck and
drove away in a huff.”

It wasn't any cinch, though, the sher-
iff thought to himself. Beekman might
be able to prove a good alibi for the rest
of the evening. And the neighborhood
abounded in farm workers—men whose
boots would come into contact with
straw. However, he planned to talk to
Beekman without delay.

As the sheriff finished his notes; he
noticed the house had become quiet.
Then, breaking this stillness, came the
sounds of infant babbling from the ‘crib
in the next room.

“Your child seems to have settled
down,” he said to Brewer. ‘“‘Does he do
much _ talking?”

The husband shook his head. “Not
much, He should, at his age, but I’ guess
he’s a little backward. Why?” ’

Bassett pointed to the position of the
crib in relation to the dining room door-
way. “If your baby was awakened when
the killer was slugging your wife,” he
said, “then the child could have seen
everything. If he could only tell us—”

Brewer looked startled. “I’d hate to
count on that,” he began, confused.

“Oh, we couldn’t count on it,” Bas-
sett countered. “But it might help in
getting at the truth. Suppose we try.”

Brewer shrugged and Bassett motion-
ed his deputies to remain in the dining
room. Then he and Brewer went into
the bed chamber. .

Billy Brewer was a_ light-haired,
dimpled child who looked up innocently
and blinked a few times as the light
was switched on. Then he looked away
and began playing with some toys.

“Suppose you introduce me,” the
sheriff said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Billy might talk if he knew me bet-
ter.”

The father said, “Billy, this is Sheriff
Bassett, a nice man. He knows daddy
and mommy. He wants to talk to you.”

The boy looked up at the sheriff and
then away, but he displayed no fear
of the bluff, middle-aged official.

“I think he’s taking to me,” Bassett
said. He moved closer to the crib and
chucked the youngster under the chin.
“You're a nice boy,” he cooed. “Listen,
Billy; your mommy was, hurt tonight.
by some man—a bad man. Did you see

’

him?”

The child raised his face to Bassett’s
and for the first time there was a hint
of; terror in his eyes. The sheriff knew
then that Billy Brewer had seen the
murder and the remembrance frighten-
ed him.

“Who did it, Billy?” he asked quiet-
ly. “Tell me.” .

The child darted a swift glance at his
father and seemed to shiver. “Baa—
baa—da da—da—” he lisped.

Bassett scratched his head. “What'd
he say?” he asked Brewer.

The father shook his head. ‘‘He’s say-
ing something to me. He always calls
me dada. But what baa means, I don't
know.” ‘ ,

The sheriff's. eyes lighted. “Does he
know -Barney Beekman by name?”

“He must. Barney’s been at the house
often and we always called him by his
first name.”

Bassett nodded. “That's it, then.
That’s what he’s trying to say—‘Barney,
daddy.’ That guy’ll have a hard job
denying this now.”

Before leaving, the sheriff asked Brew-
er about his visit to Howell that eve-
ning. The man named a couple of bars
he had frequented, saying he had left
the last one, The Blue Angel, about
11:30.

Bassett frowned. “What are you plan-
ning to do with the child?” he asked
Brewer, who, he knew, worked in a
Howell mill. “You won't be able to
work and take care of him too.”

“No,” replied Brewer. “My wife's
relatives live in Pinckney. They'll have
to be told about this. Ill have one of
the women take Billy over there.”

As Bassett and his deputies were pre-
paring to depart, they noticed that some
of. the Brewer neighbors, attracted by
the commotion, had gathered in the
yard. Among them were two of the men
the stricken husband had named as fre-
quent callers at the house—Strassi and
Danzig. Questioned by Bassett, both men
admitted having walked up the road
from the highway bus around seven
o'clock on returning from work in How-
ell. This, Bassett, reasoned, might ac-
count for Some of the footprints he and
Gehringer had seen. However, it was
getting too late to ask the two men to
submit to examination. Besides, the
sheriff wanted to check on Barney Beek-
man without delay. Consequently, he
made no effort to detain them. He was
piling into his car when he observed that
Nick Leon; one of the three neighbors
named, hadn’t seemed interested in find-
ing out what was going on. He wasn’t
among the group of curious.

“We'll talk to that bird in the morn-
ing,” he said to Gehringer, and Kruger.
“Let’s get down to the Shayne farm.”

Frank Shayne responded to their
knocking. “Barney?” he repeated. “No,
he isn’t here. He went out around 6:30
and hasn't pulled in yet. Anything
wrong?”

Bassett shrugged. “Maybe not. But
I'd like to talk to Barney when he gets
home. Call me as soon as he gets in.”

Shayne, a reputable farmer, said he
would.

In his office, Bassett turned the beer
bottle and box of barnyard mud over
to Kruger. “Better run up to the Lan-
sing laboratories with these,” he said.

S matters turned out, the sheriff

wasn’t able to do much sleeping.
He was up in a few hours and back at
his office, after a few cups of strong
coffee. Gehringer was dozing with his
feet on a desk.

“Only ‘orie call, Chief,” he said, rub-
bing his eyes. “Dr. Black phoned from
Lansing. The woman died from a bat-
tered skull, all right, and she wasn't
attacked.”

Build your future in

RADIO

TELEVISION
ELECTRONICS

Partial View of the
Studios, Shops, and
Laboratories that
Stand Behind Notional

Radio Shop Schools Home Training

TBs

ft

Broadcast Studio

”
Television Studio

National Schools, one of the largest practical
trade schools in the United States, will show you
how to get into this profitable and fascinating
field . . . right in your own home in spare time.
Find out about—

SHOP METHOD
HOME TRAINING

By a Practical Resident Trade
School with its own Shops,

Studios and Laboratories
Today, opportunities in the Radio, Television and
Electronics industry are everywhere. Vastly in-
creased number of Radio receivers, development
of FM Broadcasting, Television, Electronics appli-
cations demands services of trained men who can
repair, servicé and maintain equipment. The list

Radio applicati ts al di. and every

one represents increasing unities in our
modern world for the RADIO TELEVISION AND
ELECTRONICS TECHNICIAN
WITH A SOLID TECHNICAL
BACKGROUND.

LEARN BY DOING

National Shop
Method Home
Training is based
on — PRACTICE.
We actually send
you stondard Ro-
dio parts. You gain
EXPERIENCE, you build apparatus, do testing,
trouble shooting, and work out the fundamental
Principles of Radio, Television and Electronics
You learh both the “why” and the ‘how’ of re-
ceivers and circuits. imagine how interesting the
study. of Radio is, experimenting with a signal
generator, miniature Radio transmitter, audio
oscillator and other equipment you construct from
the parts we send. After your experimenting, you
build a MODERN SUPERHETERODYNE RECEIVER,
which some ‘students have sold for more thon
the habe prd of the Course itself. it is yours to
use eep.
SINCE 1905

Let National Schools, a world-famous Training
Organization with almost 50 years’ experience
show you how to prepare for a career that offers
every OPPORTUNITY for growth and personal
development. : Faculty,
Modern Equipment, Instruction Materials, Labora-
tories, Studios and Shops, make it possible to
sg ae the FINEST POSSIBLE PRACTICAL HOME
RA! TRAINING. For full details, fill out and
mail the coupon today.

SEND FOR FREE LESSON.

Examine the National Shop
Method Home Training
carefully. Study the lesson
we will send you FREE.
Ne obligation. The coupon
will bring you vatuabie
information.

VETERANS

if you qualify for
training under G. 1.
Bill, check the coupon
for a Special Bulletin.
G. 1. APPROVED

Sank Sane

"9 ‘
MAIL OPPORTUNITY COUPON FOR QUICK ACTION

A Mational Schools, Dept. VG-2 Mail in enve-
4000 South Figueroa Street lepe or paste
§ bee Angetes 37, California on penny postal i
Bend me FREE your catalogue inciuding a sample
jeason your course. | understand no salesman wii {
1 call on me. {
r Mame... 222-22 ee ee eee eee ee Age...... {
t QING ici Sis akin he FIRES me {
Q City..-----.--------- - Zone - State. {

( 2 Check here if veteran of World War 11.
fhe in ses ee ts


SONG POEMS WANTED

TO BE SET TO MUSIC
Send your Poems today for
Free Examination to
J. CHAS. McNEIL

A.B. MASTER OF MUSIC
510-VG Se. Alexandria Les Angeles 5, Calif.

aN

uth MAGIC CARDS

This special deck of playing cards with
secret code on beck of each card tel YOU
what each curd is when lying face down.
Eaxy directions explain code and how to
do muny kinds of “Magic” tricks. Use
same deck for usual card games, auch ns
poker. bridge. ete. Only $1.49. Get a deck
today. SEND NO MONEY. Send Name
and Address. Pay postman on arrival only $1.49 plus postage.
Money beck if not delighted. Address Mr. Luck's Novelty
Co. Dept s02 M215 N. Michigan Ave.. Chicago 1, Mlinoix

FOR POSITIVE RELIEF FROM ITCHING

USE ‘‘ANOROID for HEMORRHOIDS”
Mace from medically active ingredients long recom-
mendled by Doctors for their cooling, soothing and

astringent effects,
Generous tube of ANOROID OINTMENT with
applicator for only $1.00.
Money absolutely refunded if not DELIGHTED.
co ept. V-10

ANO CHEMICAL
519 National Security Bidg. Sheboygan, Wis.

ILLUSTRATED COMIC
BOOKLETS

z THE KIND MEN LIKE!
Se, (VEST POCKET SIZE)

20 DIFFERENT booklets
sent prepaid for $1 in plain
wrapper. ++. DO C.O.D,'8,
GRAYKO, Dept. 1198 Box 520, G.P.O.,N.Y.C.1

carero QUIT TOBACCO?

Remove the craving for Tobacco as th sands have
with TOBACCO BANISHER. Write Yor FREE
BOOKLET regarding the injurious effect of tobacco
and of a treatment which has permanently relieved
many people.
—32 Years in Business —
GUSTAF H. GUSTAFSON CO.

2325 East Viekery Blvd. Dept. 7, Fert Worth 3. Texas

BI BARGAINS

& PROFITS
Agents wanted. Over 100 sensational
values. Men's used suits $2.00, pants
‘Se, topcoats $1.25, overcoats $2.00,
shoes 20c. Experience unnecessary.
Free wholesale catalog.

SUPERIOR £722."

Rheumatism Yields
To Drugless Method
Of Treatment

Excelsior Springs, Mo.—So suc-
cessful has a comparatively new,
drugless method proven for treating
rheumatism and arthritis that an
amazing new book will be sent free
to any reader of this paper who will
write for it.

This book entitled, “Rheumatism,”
fully explains why drugs and medi-
cines give only temporary relief and
fail to remove the causes of the
trouble.

The Ball Clinic, Excelsior Springs,
Mo., has perfected a system of drug-
less treatment for rheumatism and
arthritis combined with the world
famous mineral waters and _ baths.
This new system of treatment is fully
described in the book and tells how
it may be possible for you to find
freedom from rheumatism.

You incur no obligation in sending
for this instructive book. It may be
the means of saving you years of
untold misery. For writing prompt-
ly, the company will also include a
free copy of the book entitled, “Good
Health, Life’s Greatest Blessing.” Ad-
dress your letter to The Ball Clinic,

Dept 590 Excelsior Springs, Mo., but

be sure to write today,
28

the other end asked excitedly. “Are you
still hunting Milton Paynter?”

The detective’s fingers tightened on
the instrument. “Right!”. he barked.
“Who is this calling?”

“Never mind my name,” the voice
said. “I used to work with Paynter.
He's back in Denver. I just. had coffee
with him at Seventeenth and Curtis.”

“He’s still with you?” Burns demand-
ed. “Where're you calling from?”

“Not now,” the voice said. “We sep-
arated at Champa, and he started west.
He seems. worried about something.”

“Thanks,” Burns interrupted, and
hung up. Quickly, he ordered the infor-
mation he had just received broadcast
to all police cars, and himself sped to-
ward Seventeenth and Champa, where
Paynter had been last reported seen,

Less than a hundred yards from the

police station, however, Paynter was-

found walking | doggedly along, hands
deep in his pockets. Burns and another
detective flanked him on each side.
Silently, they guided him into the build-
ing, and to Captain Childers’ office.

“I want to give myself up,” Paynter
declared. “I think I killed my wife,
Ruth Mann.”

_Captain Childers’ leaped to his feet.
“You think you killed her?” he de.

manded. “What do you mean by that?”
“I was drinking—I remember that—

Swann, and his two veteran aides,
Hagley and Farris, began a quiet in-
vestigation into the career of Arnett
A. Booth. :

Official records revealed that Booth
was an ex-convict even now enjoying
freedom only on a conditional pardon.
He had been released from Mounds-
ville Prison after serving less than a
year on a conviction of attempted rape.

And was it coincidence that at the
time of his arrest, Booth had given
his place of employment as the Ronk
Coal Mine in Wayne County?

As the record unfolded before them,
Swann stared thoughtfully at his two
aides. “I think it’s time we had an-
other little chat with Booth,” he said
Softly.

5 hey slim, bald-headed man ‘showed
no surprise at their visit. He wel-

comed them inside, and said eagerly :.

“You've heard something about Dr.
Seder?”

“We've found him,” Swann nbdded,
staring hard at the man. :

The blood seemed to drain from
Booth’s face. “That’s wonderful,” he
whispered, and dropped weakly into
a chair. ‘“That’s wonderful,” he re-
peated mechanically, “Alive?”

“Alive,’’ Swann. said.

“That's wonderful.” Bwoth — said
again, and licked his dry lips nervously.

While Lt. Swann engaged him. in con-
versation, Hagley and Farris carefully
went over the room. They found in a
desk drawer a packet of dime store
envelopes—and each ‘envelope had the
same flaw in a crooked sealing flap,
identical with that of the envelope in

which the ransom note had been sent.’

At headquarters, Booth faced a severe
questioning~from a group of seasoned
grillers. But he steadfastly denied anv
connection with the crime. “Why should
T hurt Dr. Seder?” he demanded, ‘He
was always good ‘to me.”

The incriminating evidence of the
envelopes failed to faze him. “I bought

‘them in the dime - store,’ he. said.

and Ruth came to my room. Then.
everything seems hazy. It was a com-
plete mental blackout. When I woke up,
Ruth was sitting there on the floor,
propped against the wall. Dead. I tried
to revive her. Put cold towels on her
head. But she wouldn’t come to. So I
beat it.” The man shuddered, stood with
head bent, chin almost resting on his
tie.

“You went to Kansas City, pawned
the jewels you took off her bo ry, and
when the money was spent, came back
to Denver,” Childers guessed. “Is that
the rest of the story?”

Paynter nodded. “But if I killed her,
I didn't. know it. It was a complete
mental blackout, Captain. I wouldn't
have hurt Ruth for the world.”

After nearly two months in the Coun-
ty jail without bond, Paynter appeared
in the West Side Court on November
8, and entered a plea of not guilty by
reason Of insanity. He was examined
by Dr. Franklin G. Ebaugh, director
of the Colorado Psychopathic Hospital,
and upon Dr. Ebaugh’s recommendation.
District Judge Steele ordered Paynter
committed to the hospital. .

Note: The names Eva Kepner and
Pete Weiss are fictitious to save em-
barrassment to persons innocently in-
volved,

hae cee Lh ee te a mele
ING PR ACLIED
ek:

a

Under the direction of G-Man
Conrad, he printed a painstakingly
careful copy of the ransom note while
the graphologist read the words to
him. He wrote in a slow, labored hand
with an obvicus attempt to disguise his
normal’ printing style.

Conrad carefully compared the freak
copy with the original. To his trained
eye the similarity was obvious. There
was here, he realized, indisputable proof
that Arnett Booth had written both
notes. 6

“You wrote the ransom letter,” Con-
rad charged. “You lie if you deny it.”

“I didn’t,” Booth shook his ‘head.
“I didn’t—believe me—I didn't!”

Conrad nodded patiently. “How do
you spell the word ‘Action’?”

Booth hesitated. “‘“‘A-x-i-o-n,” he
spelled slowly.

“Only you spell it that way,”’ Con-
rad told him grimly. “Everyone else
spells it ‘a-c-t-i-o-n.’ Do you still deny
you wrote the ransom letter?”

“I wrote the ransom note.” ‘he: ad-
mitted. “But I never kidnapped Dr.
Seder!”

He maintained that after reading
about the minister’s disappearance, he
had conceived the idea of trying to
get some ransom money out of it.
“TI read about someone doing it when
the Lindbergh baby was kidnapped.”
He shrugged callously. “I thought I
could get away with it, too.”

Detectives laughed in his face—but
Booth stuck to his story. And per-
sistent grilling and accusation could

‘net budge him. “I wrote the letter.”

he kept repeating, ‘but I didn’t kidnap
Dr. Seder.”

Arnett Booth was returned to a
prison cell while determined  sleuths
Set out to break his story. .

“He wasn't in this alone,” Vetterli
told his aides. “Our job is to find out

who his partners were.”

Thé assignment proved to be a sur-
prisingly simple one. Neighboring
apartment tenants of Booth recalled
that he had been almost constantly in
the company of two youthful com-
panions—and they were able to sup-
ply their names.

“Orville Adkins and John Travis.”
one man said. “Couple of young punks
—the smart aleck type.”

The names were familiar enough to
Lt. Swann and _ his department. Both
youths were paroled convicts, released
from Ohio where they had served
terms for auto theft.

Neither of the two proved available.
Adkins had left town after telling
friends he was going to Kentucky. Tra-
vis was on his honeymoon. Three days
after the kidnapping, he had married
and the ccuple had gone to Burnwell.
West Virginia for the occasion.

Help in the capture of young Travis
came from an unexpected quarter. His
mother, Mrs. Travis, was heartbroken
to hear of the crime and the role
police feared her son had played in
it. Hagley asked her to persuade the
bey to give himself up, lest further
harm come to him.

Mrs. Travis promised. A few hours
later she kept it. John Travis, a boyish,
sad-eyed young man. gave himself up.
He walked with a bad limp, the result
of a childhood attack of infant¥e
paralysis.

- Although he knew nothing of Adkins’
whereabouts, police soon located his
partner in crime. Kentucky officers,
alerted by teletype, picked up Orville
Adkins without a struggle.

Both of ‘them, not men at all, but
two badly scared boys. denied all

_ knowledge of the kidnapping. But after

an hour’s grilling their bravado was
gone and they crumbled.

The whole kidnapping scheme had
been Beoth’s brain-child. they declared.
In September, when he had first. con.
ceived the idea of a gang, his partners
were interested only in petty crimes.
Travis wanted to concentrate on safe.
cracking.

After many weeks of careful plans,
all-night parties and plenty of wom-
en, the trio was ready. On the night
of the kidnapping, Booth tricked the
old man into his car, promising him
full payment for the bum check which
he had issued, and which the kindly
old minister had made good out of
his own pocket. .

At first,.Seder had suspected nothing.

. But after an hour of riding, he began

to worry. “Where are you taking me?”
he demanded suspiciously, unable to
penetrate the blackness with his poor
eyes. "What are you doing with me?”

There was no answer. Then they
stopped at a cabin previously prepared
by Booth. Shoving Seder inside. they
infermed him bluntly that he was kid-
napped. Later, they took their captive
to the abandoned mine shaft on Ronk's
property.

Seder mentioned $25 he had on a
shelf at home. His captors did not
cverlook it. Leaving Travis to guard
their prize, Booth and Adkins returned
to Huntington to pick it up. At the
same time, they took all his bed-
clothing, but carelessly forgot to
switch off the light, or close the rear
door.

While they were gone. Travis be-
gan to worry about his sins. He im-
plored the minister to say a prayer
for him. This the kind old’ man did.
for which Travis thanked him.

On the third day after the kidnap-
ping, Booth, who was tending théir
‘guest’ while Travis and Adkins re-
mained in town, returned with ter-
rible news.. He warned them to take


SEE Ee aa

broken. The three men dragged the doctor from the car
and led him into an old shack. There they bound him
securely to a wooden chair.

“Is there any money in your house?” one of the men
asked him.

With a faint flush of hope, the exhausted elderly man
said quickly, yes, there was $25 in a drawer in his bed-
room. He pleaded with his captors to return him to his
home. “I can get more for you,” he promised.

“We'll get it,” they told him roughly. “All you need to
do is keep quiet.”

One of the men thrust some greasy rags into his mouth,
fastening the gag firmly. Then they departed.

At intervals throughout the long night Dr. Seder
struggled vainly with the bonds that held him to the chair.
He could not free himself. His limbs ached from the cramp-
ing bonds. Through the muffling gag he tried to call for
help. But no one came near him.

‘Dawn broke at last. But it was hard for him to see any-
thing. His thick-lensed spectacles had been knocked off
and lay broken on the bare dirty floor. He was tormented
with thirst, his throat parched. And there was increasing
agony in his aged joints.

Throughout the day, he sat there, straining his ears for
some faint sound of someone approaching, or passing by,
but no sound broke the stillness of this dreary mountain
hideaway. He heard only the raucous crying of crows in
the pines that studded the mountaintop.

Then night fell again and he heard the scurrying of rats
about the floor and in the loft above his head. After a while
he caught the sound of an approaching car. It “stopped
not far away. The same three men came in. One was carry-
ing some bedding.

Without a word to Dr. Seder, they released his bonds
and pushed him outside. He was made to walk along a
rude trail that climbed higher and higher into the craggy
hills. He stumbled often, bruising himself on the stones.
At intervals he murmured prayers. He pleaded with his
captors to have mercy upon him, an old man who had
done them no wrong.

“Shut up,” the leader ordered. “You're worth more than
$25 to us. If you want to stay alive, keep your mouth
shut.”

Dr. Seder spent terrifying hours in this
shack before being taken to a better hideout
to await the payment of $40,000 ransom

Much later the leader turned on a flashlight. Dr. Seder
stared aghast as its beam illuminated the gaping maw of
an abandoned coal mine. “Inside,” the man ordered, shov-
ing him roughly.

He stumbled, picked himself up, then stumbled again and
crashed into space. His body struck against jagged chunks
of slate and he lay stunned until brought back to fuller
consciousness by fresh-inflicted pain. Dimly he heard jeer-
ing laughter, felt himself being lifted to his feet and
dragged further into the black pit. On and on they took
him, down a deep mine shaft. Finally the flashlight re-
vealed a sizable room carved in the deep vein of coal.

Again the leader tied him tightly with cords. One of the
other two men was still carrying blankets and a pillow.
The doctor recognized them as ones taken from his bed
at home. The man tossed them on the stone floor of the
gloomy cavern, spread them into a pallet. That done, the
exhausted prisoner was thrown roughly upon the bed. The
light went out. The sounds of retreating footsteps echoed
along the passage.

Time passed with hideous slowness. Dr. Seder lost count
of it. Finally sounds tinkled down the passage and the cold-
faced man once more appeared. He was carrying a lantern
and a paper sack. He set down the lantern, opened the
sack and produced some sandwiches. He cut the doctor’s
bonds. The elderly man ate hungrily. As he ate, the lantern
was taken away. He watched its glow fade down the
passage and he was alone again, groping in absolute
darkness for the crumbs.

“Dear God,” he prayed. “Dear God—”

More time passed. He believed it must be several days.
Then a light appeared again. The man, carrying the lantern,
stood over him. The doctor offered him money to free him.

“Please take me home. I'll give you anything you want,”
he pleaded.

The man uttered a mocking laugh. “Like hell you will.
But someone else will!” He struck the tortured doctor in
the face. Then he set down the lantern, picked up a large
stone and hit the helpless old man again in the face and on
the side of the head. As his victim fell against the wall of
the mine, the man beat him again. Dr. Seder heard thun-
derous explosions inside his head, as if his eardrums had
ruptured.

His heartless assailant continued to rain blows until his
victim lay still and bloodstained. He then hurled the
4-pound rock at the prostrate form. It struck the doctor in
the side. The man picked up a smaller rock and hurled it.
That one caught the suffering doctor full in the forehead.
The man picked up the lantern and made his way out of
the abandoned coal mine.

On Tuesday morning, November 2nd, Graham Deane who,
with his wife, occupied the second-floor apartment in the
Seder house on Eighth Avenue, called a cheery goodbye to
his wife as he went down the stairs, headed for his clerical
job downtown. The entrance door to each of the two apart-
ments fronted on the same porch. As he crossed the porch
Deane saw a bottle of milk on the top step and the morning
newspaper. He observed lights burning inside Dr. Seder’s
apartment. This rather puzzled him, at the moment, and
when he reached his office he lifted the telephone receiver,
deciding to ask his wife to look in on Dr. Seder. The doctor
always had been an early riser and brought in his milk
and the paper before anyone else was astir. Deane could
not recall ever having seen them before on the porch as he
departed for his office. However, he decided that was no
cause for alarm. He replaced the receiver.

Since the beginning of Mrs. Seder’s visit in Minnesota
Dr. Seder had been taking his meals, except breakfast, at
a Sixteenth Street restaurant, some four blocks from his
home. When he failed to put in an appearance over the
noon hour the proprietor and the waitress wondered about
it. When he did not come in during the dinner hour they
discussed his absence among themselves, but had no reason
to feel alarmed.

“Maybe he had to make a speech somewhere,” one of
the waitresses suggested.

“Yes, that’s probably what it is,” the proprietor agreed.

At the doctor's office, which had the atmosphere of a
library and study, his two secretaries also wondered about
his absence. They were well supplied with work to be
done and there had been other days when the doctor had
not put in an appearance. But always before, he had called
them.

“Dr. Seder had*an appointment with a painting con-
tractor at one of his houses, at nine o'clock this morning,”

one of the giris observed. “Must have taken longer than ~

he expected it would.”

Graham Deane returned home at eight o’clock that
night. His landlord’s milk still had not been taken in and
the afternoon edition now lay beside the morning paper.
Also Deane noted that mail had not been removed from
the box on the wall beside the door. Lights still burned
within the apartment. Looking through the glass panel of
the front door, Deane observed that the gas logs were
burning in the reception hall and beyond the archway in
the large living room.

Deane pushed the bell button. When nothing stirred
within, he pounded on the door. Still no response. He
went around to the rear, where he saw the kitchen light
on. He pushed the bell button there, knocked on the door.
He did not try the knob.

“Something is wrong,’’ he muttered. He hurried to his
own apartment and anxiously asked his wife, “Have you
seen Dr. Seder today? Or hear him moving about down-
stairs?”

Mrs. Deane thought a moment, “Why, no, Graham. Come
to think of it, I haven’t.”

“I’m afraid he's had some kind of spell. He hasn’t taken
in his milk or newspapers. His mail is still in the box.
Lights are on. The gas logs are blazing.”

“Maybe you should call the police.”

“Tl call his office. His secretary would know about the
doctor. Maybe there’s a natural explanation.”

The attractive brunette secretary had no explanation.
She exclaimed in alarm when Deane described what he
had found.

“Mr. Deane,” she said, “I believe you will find a doorkey
in the mailbox. I am certain Dr. Seder kept one there, for

Dets. Roy Hagley, Harry Farris discovered the kidnapers
had made a second trip to the Seder house for blankets

Marshal Ketchum checked odd lunch order

57


ADKINS, BOOTH and TRAVIS, whites, hanged WV&P

(Above) Kindly Dr.

LL during the night of Monday, November Ist, 1937,
lights burned brightly in the apartment of Dr. James
i. Seder at 2051 ighth Avenue, Huntington, West

his neighbors thought that he was working late, and paid
little heed.

But on Tuesday, the lights remained lit throughout the
day. Mail and milk were left’ untouched by the door, and
the ringing telephone went unanswered.

When Allen Waite, who lived in the apartment above the
cleric, heard no answer to his inquiring knocks, he decided

In response to his message, Patrolman Charles sped to the

saw that the rear door was open.

Waite, who was beste: Fe frowned. ee some-
thing wrong—Seder loc ed this door every night and put a
heavy bar behind it.”

The patrolman went inside, and Waite heard him moving
about. A few moments later he returned. “No sign of him,”
he said. “I’ve got to notify the Homicide Squad.”

A second call to Headquarters brought Lieutenant Leslie
J. Swann with Detectives Roy Hagley and Harry Farris to
the scene. .

Lieutenant Swann learned that Dr. Seder had been living

20

TRUE DETECTIVE,
November, 1938

James I. Seder, retired min-
ister, who was the victim of a torture kidnaping

(Cabell) March 21, 1938.

eyesight had been failing him, and that he always took one
of the canes when he left the house after dark.

Whether the minister had been kidnaped, suffered from
amnesia, or whether he had walked into the night of his own
accord, carrying his bedclothing with him, Lieutenant Swann
did not profess to know. But from every sign, it was certain
that the man had disappeared from his home before dawn
that day.

Swann could find no farewell note, nor demand for ran-
som. Bank books showed no withdrawals, and the investiga-
tors were left without a clue.

ister, if he were a victim of amnesia, would be seen and

He had thick white hair, and wore glasses with heavy lenses.
He was believed to have been wearing a dark overcoat, dark
suit, black shoes and gray hat, since these things were miss-

the minister had appeared in many pulpits in West Virginia
and was a beloved character,

enomonie.
Interested in the cause of Prohibition, Dr. Seder

undoubte
he had x
ague in
West Vire
On We
man’s go;
Works of
ington an
at Washin
Althoug
the family
kidnaped.
nolds, Spec
ton, that if
€ would
So the so
mond Sede
Allen T. B,
Vice-preside
ests.
G-man R
that the F,
4 violation
the victim i,
Owever, th:
naping case
local law ep
develop a Fy
cellophane e;
“Tf a ran
person hand]
of the letter
them at onc
nothing abou
with whom y
Although {
On Novembe
near Ravensy

ae eS :
ee -
yy SE

s

9 es

ts
ie
4
ft
i
Ike
y
t
i

Travis, it was learned, was a former
inmate of an Ohio reformatory. who
had never been known to work since
his parole. Where, then, did he ob-
tain the money to finance a honey-
.
TA dragnet was cast for Booth’s two
missing friends. This brought almost
immediate results when Adkins was
arrested in a hideout near his home.
Johnny Travis and his bride were
picked up some time later while driv-
ing along a southern highway nearly
500 miles from Huntington. Both in-
dignantly denied being implicated in
the kidnap-murder, but they were
held for questioning despite their ve-
hement demands for immediate re-
lease.

Vetterli knew he had to work fast.
There wasn’t a shred of evidence with
which to connéct the two with the
crime, beyond their association with
Arnett Booth. Shrewdly, the two re-
alized this, and kept their own coun-
sel.

Finally in desperation officers re-
sorted to an old trick. Casually they
informed Booth that his two accom-
plices had confessed, implicating him

- as the ringleader.

Booth’s face darkened with rage.
Oddly enough, he didn’t question the
truth of the statement.

“The yellow rats!” he spat bitterly.
“They’re not going to get out of any-
thing by squealing. Two can play at
that game. We worked the whole
thing out together.

‘I helped kidnap the old man, but
I wanted to let him go if we got the

ransom money. But Johnny Travis.

couldn’t wait. He’d found some money
in the house and wanted to get mar-
ried. Johnny and Orville were sup-
posed to guard the old man while I
collected the dough. Instead they
tried to stone him to death, and then
ran off and left him. They’re just as
guilty as I am, and if I have to pay for
it they’re going to pay, too.”

Booth was so excited by the sup-
posed double-cross on the part of his
companions that he willingly an-
swered all questions relative to the
actual kidnaping and signed a com-
plete confession admitting his part in
the heinous affair.

This was shown to his two con-
federates. They stared at it unbe-
lievingly for a moment, then both
began talking at once.

Booth was responsible for every-
thing, they declared. It was at his
suggestion that the three had stoned
the old man until they thought him
dead. If and when the body was ever
found, they said, Booth felt his death
would be attributed to accidental
causes. The roof of the cave was
none too sound, and they hoped it
would be believed that the stones had
loosened and fallen on the unfor-
tunate victim, crushing him to death.

Booth Tried First

Shocked at the coldblooded pre-
meditation of the crime, the state of
West Virginia moved fast to exact the
full penalty of the law. State alienists
made a complete examination of the

three defendants and declared them
sane, and preparations were made to
try them in the county courts instead
of on a federal charge in order that
the death penalty might be asked.

This was the first kidnaping case
ever to come to trial in the West Vir-
ginia courts, and the courtroom was
jammed with spectators when Arnett
Booth faced a jury on December 1],
1937. Adkins and Travis were to be
tried together ‘at a later date.

Booth put-up a frantic defense but
his confession, the incriminating
fingerprint on the ransom note, and
his previous record were all against
him. Prosecuting attorneys intro-
duced evidence showing that the bad
check he had issued to the minister
had not keen paid, as he had claimed,
and this, as well as the lure of ran-
som, was considered as a motive for
the crime.

There were a few tense moments
while the jury studied the evidence;
then it returned a verdict of guilty
without recommendation of mercy.

With this precedent, Adkins and
Travis stood little chance. They ad-
mitted their guilt, but made a des-
perate attempt to shift the blame to
Booth. Their attorneys offered no
defense, merely emphasizing the
youth of their clients and asking that
their lives be spared.

This stung the prosecuting attorney,
and in his closing speech he dramati-
cally demanded that the two de-
fendants be shown the same mercy
they showed to Dr. Seder.

On December 17 the jury found
both men equally guilty and meted
out the same penalty as had been im-
posed on Booth. Judge H. Clay Worth
then decreed that all three should
meet death by hanging on March 17,
1938. ’ ,

On that day they; walked ‘to the
gallows. Booth went first, his face
impassive, then } dkins, and ! Travis
last. The hone on he had financed
with blood ‘money was permanently
interrupted) wheh tke taut rope
snapped his neck. :

RAILS

(Continued from page 17)

keep the appointment on that day.

So the trip on which the engineer
Gardner was hurt would have been
fruitless anyway. The writer an-
nounced that he would give further
instructions at a future date.

August passed without word from
him, as did the first part of Septem-

ber. On September 15 at Mullen Pass, |

about 12 miles from Helena, another
engine was bombed, thrown off the
track and badly damaged. Neither
the engineer nor fireman was injured.

Four days later an alert trackwalker
found a dynamite bomb under a
switch in the Helena yards.

By this time the passenger traffic
of the Northern Pacific through Mon-
tana had dropped to almost nothing.

McFettridge. Boyle, Goc
two score special agents
county police working

were at their wits’ end
the dynamiter had no-
writing again, but woulc
bombings whenever the.
him. |

A Second Trap

Every train out of He-
ceded by a handcar, the
which volunteered for 1
service. The railway of
think it fair to assign
dangerous job. Those
teered never knew wh
flat-topped vehicle wo
bomb and blow them to

As a result of this pi
senger trains which follc
at speeds of around eigt
an hour. It was an intc
tion, ‘but one which
Pacific officers saw no w_
ing until the dynamiter —

Shortly after the midc
ber another letter was r
railway offices in St. Pi
the money was to be ©
engine on September ‘
to proceed in exactly tl
ner as the previous one

Again McFettridge
the same maneuvers as
the fake money from the
ranging to have an engi
armed men follow the fi

But once again Fate
game. Two trackwalk«
a red lantern swinging
not far from Helena kr
a regulation signal. Bu
in on the trap. After
matter they decided 1
lantern. As they took
heard a noise in the |
and.then the receding
galloping horse.

The extortionist evi
he had been doublec
vented his disappointr
within the next 48 hou
ing two engines at Mi
blowing a streetcar of
Helena. Again, as by :
acle, no one was killec
ously injured.

Although the detecti
had brought with him
were all good men, the:
whatever about tracki
such as would be ne
wild country where tl
agent felt the dynam
his hideout. .He theref
aid of four Montana fF
Indian fighters and tra
that part of Montana
knew their way aro’
homes. They were -
Captain Jim Keown, F
John Dunn.

For weeks these m
in the hills, alternatin;
len Pass, Priest Pass
yon, three almost equ:
localities, all of which
sheltered bandits, road
convicts and other de:

During all this tin

HE

UNHOLY THREE

(Continued from page 21)

that he was the victim of kidnapers.

Due to his advanced age, they felt
amnesia might be the most logical
reason he vanished. In support of
this they introduced Dr. E. F. Reaser,
assistant superintendent of the Hunt-
ington State Hospital and a personal
friend of their father.

“How about those three canes?”
Swann asked pointedly. “Your father
wouldn’t have been able to leave the
house without taking one of them
with him.”

“One cane is missing,” Raymond
Seder asserted. “Mrs. Chandler may
not have known it, but I recently gave
him one. Undoubtedly it is the one he
has with him.”

The lieutenant was still uncon-
vinced. “How about those bed-
clothes?” he asked.

“I think I can answer that,” Dr.
Reaser said quietly. “In my opinion,
Dr. Seder is suffering from a psy-
chosis incident to old age, and is in
hiding from an imaginary foe. He
probably took the bedclothing with
him.”

Dr. Reaser’s theory would have
sounded ‘plausible to the lieutenant
had it not been for that torn sheet.
But the practical homicide officer
could not bring himself to believe that
Dr. Seder, weakened with advanced
age, possessed the strength necessary
to tear it, even in the grip of a psy-
chosis. The cloth was almost new;
it had taken a strong man to rip it.

The following morning, however, at
the sons’ request a number of bulle-
tins were printed and distributed to
police chiefs in nearby towns. The
circulars carried Dr. Seder’s photo-
graph and description.

Swann held out little hope for a
response from this quarter. Firm in
his belief that he was dealing with
a kidnap gang, he assigned Hagley
and Detective Harry Farris to the
case. Meanwhile he got in touch with
James D. Reynolds, chief of the Hunt-
ington office of the FBI, and explained
the circumstances to him. While un-
able to assist openly in the investiga-
tion, Reynolds promised the full co-
operation of his bureau should any
proof be found that the federal kid-
naping law had been violated.

’ Neighbor Saw Doctor

Officers assigned to question neigh-
bors and friends of the missing man

picked up the first lead from Charles |

Cole, who resided directly across the
street from the Seder home.

“I saw the doctor a little after 9
o’clock on the night he disappeared,”
Cole told them. “There was an old
model tan coupe parked at the curb.
Dr. Seder came out of the house with
two men and they got in the car and
drove off.”

“Did he seem to go willingly?”

Cole shrugged. “I honestly don’t
know. It was pretty dark and I didn’t

50

pay a whole lot of attention. The doc-
tor was between the two men and
they seemed to have him by the arms
as though helping him along. But
that probably isn’t important either,
because he is pretty old and it would
be only natural for them to assist him.”

“And they’d have held him by the
arms if it was a snatch,” a detective
said grimly. “Were two men all that
you saw?”

The neighbor hesitated. “There
might have been a third in the car,”
he said. “I’m not sure about that.”

Mrs. Chandler was questioned in an
effort to learn if the minister had re-
ceived any threatening letters that
might give some clue to his disap-
pearance. The secretary knew of
none, but Hagley and Farris checked
through Dr. Seder’s personal papers
and correspondence, on the chance
that one might have been received of
which Mrs. Chandler had no knowl-
edge.

There were no suspicious letters,

. but the officer found a rubber check

payable to Dr. Seder and signed by
one Arnett Booth.

Roy Hagley studied the slip of
paper curiously. “It mightn’t be a
bad idea to hunt up Booth,” he said
significantly. “At least, it’s the only
thing we’ve found that even remotely
resembles a clue.”

Obtaining the man’s address, the
two officers paid him a visit. Booth
shamefacedly admitted his guilt in
passing the bad check, but insisted he
had made it good in a series of instal-
ments, the last of which had been paid
the previous Saturday.

With no further clues to direct
them, Swann and his men could do
little more than mark time until the
kidnapers made their next move.

Days passed while posses searched
the countryside, spurred on by Dr.
Reaser’s theory that his old friend was
suffering from amnesia. But their
hunts were fruitless and finally, after
more than a week, the expected ran-
som note arrived.

FBI Enters Case

Illegibly scrawled in a bold hand,
the writer instructed Raymond Seder,
to whom the letter was addressed, to
insert a specified ad in a local news-
paper. He would then be contacted
by the kidnapers at which time in-
structions would be issued for pay-
ment of $30,000 for the doctor’s
release.

The money was to be prepared in
advance, $15,000 in $5 bills, $18,000 in
tens and $17,000 in 20s. As proof that
Raymond was dealing with the actual
perpetrators of the crime, the writer
described in detail the bedclothing
that was missing from the Seder
home.

Immediately upon receipt of the
scrawled message, Raymond Seder
turned it over to Lieutenant Swann,
who in turn called in the FBI.

Agent R. E. Vetterli, in charge of
the New York division of the Federal
Bureau of Investigation, was dis-
patched to Huntington with ten picked
men.

“You'll get some action on this,”
Vetterli promised local officers con-
fidently. “Kidnaping comes under
federal jurisdiction.”

“The sons are naturally concerned
with getting their father back alive,”
Swann explained. “I was given this
note because they are anxious to co-

- operate with the law. But they prefer

to pay the ransom and try to catch
the kidnapers after Dr. Seder has
been released.” ;

“I can appreciate their feelings,”
Vetterli said grimly, “but invariably
these snatch cases don’t work out that
way.” He laid the ransom demand
carefully on his desk to avoid smudg-
ing any possible fingerprints and ex-
amined it closely.

“For one thing, the writer of this
note is illiterate—that scrawled writ-
ing isn’t faked. He asks for $30,000,
yet the total of bills called for adds
up to $50,000, further proof of lack
of education. The doctor is old and
feeble and I doubt if he can survive
the treatment he will receive at the
hands of men of this type. As a mat-
ter of fact, I would be willing to bet
that he isn’t alive now.”

“What makes you think that?” the
lieutenant asked interestedly.

“The fact that the extortionists in-
tend to hold the doctor prisoner un-
til one week after the ransom is paid.
He says that will give him an oppor-
tunity to exchange the ransom bills.
It would more likely permit him a
week’s grace in which to cover his
tracks thoroughly. And I’m inclined
to believe that is his motive.”

Dr. Seder Dies

“Do you think the note is authen-
tic?” Swann asked cautiously. “There
has been quite a bit of publicity about
this case, and that list of bedclothing
doesn’t prove a thing. It could have
been obtained from a newspaper.”

“We'll have to chance that,” the
FBI man explained. “I’m going to
have this letter processed for finger-
prints. It’s a long shot but we can’t
pass it up. Then we'll insert that ad.
I think we can manage to rig up a
trap that will enable us to catch these
rats.”

Before his plans could be put in ef-
fect, however, the case reached a sen-
sational climax with the finding of Dr.
Seder by a farmer in an adjoining
county.

The minister had been confined in
an abandoned coal mine, but his faint
cries for assistance had finally brought
aid.

He was rushed to a hospital. There
it was learned he had lain in the

damp depths of the mine for ten days _ “4

He had been

without food or water.

brutally beaten about the head and ~

body, and his face was a gory mass
dried blood.

Doctors marveled at the amazing —
vitality which had enabled him to ;

endure so much. But their elation was
premature. Delirious and only semi-
conscious, Dr. Seder lived for five

days in a coma, and then died without ;%

making any statement other than that
three men, whom he did not recog~


* 99
’ me action on this,
y Pied local officers con-
“Kidnaping comes under
: ye ”
| jurisdiction.
> ee are naturally concerned
etting their father back alive,

.e ed. “I was given this
<® they are anxious to co-
e with the law. But they prefer

‘the ransom and try to catch
idnapers after Dr. Seder has
eleased.” oe
an appreciate their feelings,
li said grimly, “but invariably
natch cases don’t work out that
He laid the ransom demand
lly on his desk to avoid smudg-
y possible fingerprints and ex-
1 it closely. |
- one thing, the writer of this
; illiterate—that scrawled writ-
't faked. He asks for $30,000,
e total of bills called for adds
$56,000, further proof of lack
cation. The doctor is old and
and I doubt if he can survive
eatment he will receive at the
of men of this type. As a mat-
fact, I would be willing to bet
e isn’t alive now.”
at makes you think that?” the
ant asked interestedly.
» fact that the extortionists in-
o hold the doctor prisoner un-
. week after the ransom is paid.
ys that will give him an oppor-
to exchange the ransom bills.
ild more likely permit him a
; grace in which to cover his
thopgughly. And I’m inclined
ev t is his motive.”

nize, were responsible for the crime. : ee
Meanwhile microscopic examination :

of the ransom note disclosed that it

had been written by a criminal who

|
was as careless as he was illiterate. A :
fingerprint was developed and im-
mediately forwarded to the FBI |
laboratory in Washington. |

On the same day that death relieved |
Dr. Seder’s suffering, Vetterli re- |
ceived a full report from Washington. | +

The owner of the fingerprint had a
record, and his name was on the FBI

file as Arnett Booth. N t bh l h t!
The rubber check artist was im- | 0 y a ong S 0 @
mediately taken into custody and
charged with first degree murder.
“I didn’t have anything to do with
it,” Booth protested frantically. “It
was just that I needed money and
thought this was a’chance to get some
by faking that ransom note. I didn’t
know anyone actually had kidnaped
the old man; I thought he had maybe
walked off like the papers said. It
looked like an easy chance for dough.”
The man’s story sounded plausible,
and backed up Lieutenant Swann’s
doubts regarding the authenticity of
the ransom letter.- But the fact re-
mained that it was their only lead,
and the government men were deter-
mined to play it to the end.
“According to Dr. Seder, three men
were involved in the kidnaping,”
Vetterli told his assembled officers.
“Assuming that Booth is one of them,
we have two to go. We're not getting
anywhere with him, but I want a list
of his friends and acquaintances com-
piled, and the names of his closest
cronies turned over to me. They’re

Dr. Seder Dies due for a bit of investigating.” Look at the thousands of people b
think the note is authen- Honeymooner Nabbed we ; ' :
on asked cautiously. “There ymooner WNabbe ho have enrolled with the U. S.

Arnett Booth had not kept good
company, but his numerous shady .

en quite a bit of publicity about

se, and that list of bedclothing If they could

foe Tt coud Dave faq _companions were checked off by the f avorite instrume

prose ede os Geucpeuer” st G-men—all but two. They were isn’t it proof
. ~ by eae A the i John Travis and Orville Adkins, © When it comes to
ie ec nea “Tm going to ad brought to the attention of police by 2 oe oe ro
: a : z : 5 ora

fos lotic? ai ceeged for Gnecx- ) Mrs. Marie Aliff, who was formerly a exercises ... slashed the

away with the need of
_ If hundreds of childr
instruments by this qui
if people of forty and

_.. certainly you can, 1
700,000 pupils of our s

’ a6 housekeeper for the tacit Booth

. Sant p for the taciturn oth.
| = eh ey ad. = “The three of them used to room to-
‘ oa ee ae Gee eps : gether, Mrs. Aliff said bluntly, “and
t will enable us to catch these Booth hired me to do the housework.
rat wi But I left because I knew they were

‘ oO crooks.” from another. Yet the
: ut in ef-- :
ore his ce eo aaa a sen- ve “What makes you say that?” Swann | PLAYS ON RADIO — : s “ as
owever, the : = asked. “I am happy to tell ON EAC 6
al climax with the finding of Dr. : “Pr th : A i wetks I Baeebeeht on tne ake cor, ou For with this crystal
in an adjoining of om the way imey talked” the ical san co thanks to ~“ method 1 t

by a farmer if woman said “7 thi k h your institution for such a wonderful etnod, you learn to p
poe ; - Ink they were course.”’ from the start. Soon, :
D inister had been confined in = planning a crime of some sort. They TW. OB Sy Alabama. you are playing your fi

study any instrument
less than 7c a day, ever
If you really want to

to get more fun out of li
asking for our Free Boo.
Sample. These will sh
quickly and easily, at h
ments supplied when n.

acted mighty Suspicious, at any rate,
and always shut up whenever I was
around.”

“T think we'll pick them up,” Vet-
terli decided, “and hold them for
questioning. I have an idea they are

andoned coal mine, but his faint
‘or assistance had finally brought

was rushed to a hospital. ‘There
s learned he had lain in the
depths of the mine for ten days

ae S the men we want ” Ce ee on
ut food or water. He had been a4 é aie ‘ :
bee Wie head and eos Officers assigned to this task, how- Pn eS Ne
lly beaten abou e€ ever. f d th _ T am interested in music study,
d 1G f a gory mass of ‘ H 5 oun that both Adkins and below. Please‘send me your fre
an 1S Tace Was g£ # oh . Music at Home,’’ and your ill
Bcd Q Tavis were out of town. Young He “~ (Do you have instrument?.....
‘torg@iMmarveled at the amazing _ Johnny Travis had been mar ried and <a we. Guitar saunee
“tO had hick an. ta _ left on a ten-day honeymoon trip on se ie Hawaiian Guitar Trumpet-Corn
- ‘ ; iolin eed Organ
ty ch had ena : > November 5, just th FOUND ACCORDION Aa Tener
eso much. But their elation was 4 kid ‘Der ¥, Just three days after the EASY Piano Accordien Tenor Banjo
Delirious and only semi- ? janaping of Dr. Seder which oc- “I've always wanted to play the plano PAME oy preg ate wiEasi
ature. eur 2 s curred on Novemb 2 1937 : accordion,” writes *H. E. from Canada.
i Dr. Seder lived for five F z : er a, . Adkins “But thought I'd never learn it. Then Street, ee
10uS, z i haat ; had simply disappeared I read about your lessons. 1 don't
ina coma, and then died withou : a With ih 3 Rote : know how to express my satisfaction.”’ UY eee, ae ee ee ee
tatement other than that — 1 cir suspicions now fully | , eS NOTE!...If you are under 16 ye
1g any s : .. 4 aroused, police checked their records, | tures by srojesmanal Om geguett. Pic- ee
men, whom he did not recog- 5 Y profess 1 models. Save ae ation cou

MAY, 1943

HEADLINE DETECTIVE

HE pretty secretary placed a stack of
opened letters on Willard Seder’s
desk in the Bethlehem Steel com-

pany’s great headquarters and waited for

his attention.

“This was in the mail too, Mr. Seder. I
didn’t open it with the others. I thought it
might . . . well, it might be personal... .”

She turned away embarrassed. The steel
executive looked at the grimy envelope she
handed him, with its scrawled address:
“willard seder—personal—IMportant” and
smiled. ‘Some crank, probably,” he com-
mented. He ripped it open and withdrew a
stained, crumpled sheet of paper. He could
hardly believe his eyes. Crudely lettered,
brutally terse was the note:

WE HAVE KIDNAPED YOUR
FATHER. GET $50,000 IF YOU
WANT HIM BACK ALIVE.

The steel master’s face went white. He
gripped the arms of his chair. Then ab-
ruptly relaxed. Some crank, of course!
He called the turn himself before he opened
the letter! Nevertheless, he told the staring
girl:

“Get my father on the telephone for me.
Quickly, please! It’s important !”

The secretary darted away to obey. Seder
started to attend to his other mail but gave
it up and waited impatiently, drumming his
fingers on the desk until his telephone rang.
He snatched it from the hook.

“T can’t get him, Mr. Seder,” the secre-
tary reported. ‘‘He’s not at his house.

The well loved and respected retired minister,
Dr. James Seder, above, was held in the
abandoned coal mine, pictured at extreme left,
where he was tortured and stoned by his
vicious kidnapers, one of whom was John
Travis, the surly young man shown at left.


he
me

ing
‘ed

the

te-

by
ad-
vas
hat
ite.

| ‘jot
had
His
aat-

z of
ym-

red

Ad-
eath
{ to
ston
No-
state

the
ifter

orge
io on
. im-
5tate.
mber
rmeys
fend-

the

men-
bdue-
nsible
admit
ssions,
» told
asleep

r FBI
sstion-
1, also

n that
1en he
t nude

vithout
n and
ted his

where
stified.
around

me and-when one over here would ask me
something, one over there would hit me
with something that looked like rubber.”

On rebuttal, the -FBI rule requiring a
physical examination of a prisoner follow-
ing questioning, came to light through Dr.
Klumpp’s testimony.

Then four FBI agents took the stand to
deny that Booth had been beaten or mis-
treated in any way. One of them told the
jury: “Booth was treated with every
courtesy possible.”

Lieutenant Swann and Detectives Hag-
ley and Farris, one of whom was present
at each questioning, also denied mistreat-
ment, It was brought out that Vetterli,
whom Booth had accused of abusing him,
was not even present during any of the
questioning, ~-

It may be mentioned here that the
G-men under J. Edgar Hoover have never
resorted to third-degree methods: or the
use of physical force in any way to obtain
confessions, They succeed through per-
sistent, intelligent questioning that never
lets up, and through the skilful use of
evidence,

pate physicians summoned by the de-
fense, Doctors I. W. Taylor and M. W.
York, agreed with Dr. E. F. Reaser, as-
sistant superintendent of the Huntington
State Hospital, and Dr. Oscar B. Biern,
member of the county lunacy commission,
who testified for the State, that Booth
was not insane.

It took the jury exactly fifty-eight min-
utes on December 11th, to decree the
death penalty for Booth. On December
15th, exactly one month after Dr. Seder’s
death, he was sentenced to hang at
Moundsville on March 2ist,

The joint trial of Travis and Adkins
opened on December 13th. They were
represented by Attorneys Jess Hammock
and D. B. Daugherty, retained by their
families. A motion for a change of venue
to some other county was overruled.

The two youths admitted the kidnap-
ing, basing their pleas for mercy on the
claim that they were drunk and easily led
by Booth. They told the jury they had
planned to liberate Dr. Seder on the
second day after the abduction, but got
drunk the night before and forgot about
it.

Miss Inez Simms, 4410 Auburn Road,
who identified herself as a “former sweet-

True Detective Mysteries

heart” of Adkins, said he was at her home
between eight and nine p. M. on November
2nd, when he was drunk, and on the
night of November 3rd from nine P.M.
until 1:30 a.m., when he was again drink-
ing.

Mrs, Travis said that every time her son
was with Booth he returned with whisky
on his breath,

The State charged that Adkins and

Travis either believed Booth was going to
kill Dr. Seder when they left the mine,
or were present when he was beaten. It
produced new evidence from one of the
rescue party who testified that when they
found Dr. Seder, he whispered, “Please do
not mistreat me any more. I have been
badly mistreated and can’t stand any
more.”
. The jury beat the record of the Booth
jury. It came back in forty-two minutes
with a verdict of death for Adkins and
Travis.

Travis, a slight, blond cripple whose leg
dragged from the effects ip an attack of
infantile paralysis when a child, shook un-
controllably. He was weeping so hard that
he had to be helped from the courtroom.

Adkins, who had controlled himself by
obvious effort throughout the trial, stared
blindly in front of him. He walked from
the courtroom, erect and unmoved, but
once on the Bridge of Sighs, connecting
that room with the jail, he broke down
and joined his sobs with those of his friend
and co-defendant.

The families of the convicted men, sit-
ting in the front row, were dazed. They
had been confident of a recommendation
for mercy.

Travis’ bride of six weeks, who had
cried so much during the day that her
eyes were swollen, and Adkins’ pretty
“former sweetheart” added their tears to.
those of the two families,

UDGE WARTH made it a pas hang-
ing by ordering Travis and Adkins
anged at Moundsville along with Booth.
On March 21st, 1938, the order of execu-
tion was carried out. Because the gallows
was built to accommodate only two, a
toss of the coin decided which would die
first. Travis and Adkins lost—and were
hanged at the same time. Thirty minutes
later, Booth, the ringleader, after making
a short prayer, also met his just doom on
the gallows.

Luke May’s Department

(Continued from page 79)

TIME BY HEEL PRINT

Question—A recent newspaper article
stated that in a certain murder case you
were able to determine the length of time
that a murderer had remained at the
scene of the crime by examining a bloody
footprint on a rug in the apartment where
the crime was committed. I do not un-
derstand how it would be possible to de-
termine anything as to time from such
evidence —T. G., Missoula, Montana.

Answer—I recall three such cases. In
one of these, near one side of the bed
where the victim was found lying, she
having been killed by being beaten over
the head with a club, there was a heel
print impressed in the rug so that the
form of the heel could be distinctly seen.
This heel print impression would not have
remained fixed in all of its detail had the
blood not been well congealed at the time
it was stepped in. By making tests over
a period of time, it was possible to de-
termine the approximate length of time
‘hat the blood had been on the rug be-
fore the imprint was made.

CRIME PREVENTION WORK

QursTIonN—I am a_ regular reader of
your department and an average woman
citizen interested in my community. I
have some leisure time and should like
to employ it profitably in some phase
of criminological work that would be of
benefit to my community. Do you think
I could be of the most benefit should I
take up probation or parole work assist-
ing those who are on probation or parole?
—C. M. L., Oakland, California.

ANsSwer—Your interest is a laudable
one; however, if you desire to do the
most good for your community, you will
develop an interest among women in
crime prevention rather than the study
and treatment of the offgjder after he
has committed a crime. Considering
crime prevention in youth and dealing
with offenders after having committed a
crime, I believe that crime prevention is
the most .valuable and that much the
greater good comes from. work in crime
prevention,

THATS HEE TTY MRO RD wr

111

Here’s Amazing Relief
For Acid Indigestion

YES—TUMs a remarkable discovery brings amaz-
ing quick relief from indigestion, heartburn,
sour stomach, gas, and burning caused by excess
acid. For TUMS work on the true basic principle.
Act unbelievably fast to neutralize excess acid con-
ditions, Acid pains are relieved almost at once.
TUMS are guaranteed to contain no soda. Are not
laxative. Contain no harmful drugs. Over 2 billion
TUMS already used—proving their amazing benefit.
Try TUMS today. Only 10c for 12 TUMS at all drug-
gists. Most economical relief. Chew like candy
mints. Get a handy 10c roll today.

You never know when
or

3 eRCID INDIGESTION —_

fums are anti — laxative. When you need a laxative get—
fi This all vegetable laxative brings

4 hh 2G Yj ‘a £4 such gentle, dependable relief for
NR - TABLETS- conditions due to constipation.

Boy..What a Profit! VEW

Get in quick. Install self attaching elec-
tric outlets in a second. Fits anywhere;
. baseboards, walls, glass, etc. No screws,
nails or tools. Snap on and collect. Each outfit adds 2
standard wall sockets to room. Buildings, schools, homes,
stores, all prospects. Carry in your pocket. Cost amaz-
ingly low. Best of all it is BRAND NEW. Big dis-
count to eye ert sell like wildfire. Andy
sold 7 dozen on Be the first in your locality to
tye pe this ‘Quick PROFIT item. Write or wire for

Woody MFG. CO., Dept, 818; 5659 N. Ashland, Chicago

.) Learn Profitable Profession
in 90 days at Home

en and
head and Women ime fas

tors, hospitals. i-
and vate nents come to those who
qualify

‘alone offers Tich re rewards for specialists.
y Weive for hone Charts, and booklet
ey'r

THE College of Swedish Massage
a 1601 WarrenBivd.Dpt.862,Chicago
(Successor to National College of Massage)

as’ HERE’S QUICK RELIEF
. For quick relief from itch-
ing of eczema, rashes, pim-
ples, athlete’s foot, and
other externally caused
skin afflictions, use cooling,
antiseptic, liquid D. D. D.
_ PRESCRIPTION. Grease-
_ less, stainless, dries fast.
_ Stops the most intense
| itching in a hurry.A 35c
trial bottle, at drug stores,
roves it—or money back.

Be a Trained Criminologist
and Court Expert

Increased interest in law enforcement has focused at-
tention on_ scientific methods of crime detection. The
qualified EXPER'T succeeds where the untrained de-
dective fails. Fit yourself for big pay in this lucra-
tive profession by HOME STUDY. Fingerprints,
Legal Chemistry, Microscopy, Photomicrography,
Handwriting, Ballistics, Criminal Psychology. Each
Course complete. Students given free advice after
graduation. Write today.

International Criminologist School
H. P. Wunderling, Principal
P. O. Box 343, Seattle, Wash., U. S. A.

a ahieae / FRANKLIN INSTITUTE,

Thousands Dept. B248, Rochester, N. Y.
Sirs: Rush to me without charge

appointments jt

each year. oe 32-page book with list of many

. Government Big Pay Jobs. (2)

fe me how to qualify for one of
Qualify Now > these jobs. ( f

o

Mall Coupon / Name.,.. cei ececcncccessccccvese
Today /

Sure. G MEETS eee ceive eles vnrecccees


By JOHN SHIRLEY

Torture and death
awaited a kindly, re-
tired minister in an
abandoned mine, but
relentless G-men set
a trap that brought

the killers to justice.
6


They say he has been gone since yester-
day. They don’t know where he went. .. .
No, sir. He didn’t take any baggage.
He just went down town and didn’t come
back... . Shall I try anywhere else ?”

Then it was true!
old father was a prisoner! Held for
ransom! What did people do in such
circumstances? For a moment, Willard
Seder, the steady nerved executive who
unerringly helped to guide the great
Bethlehem steel empire experienced the
blind panic of other victims whose dear
ones have been kidnaped. Then he was
calm again. The Federal Bureau of In-
vestigation! That emergency number,
he'd learned it once when it was in all
the newspapers. He seized his telephone
again.

“Get me National 7117 in Washington
and get it right now,” he ordered.

D AY and night, on Sundays and holi-

days, the emergency switchboard of
the Federal Bureau of Investigation is
manned by a special agent ready for any
call on the crime fighting army built up
by J. Edgar Hoover, director of the bu-
reau. And every long distance operator
in America knows that nothing must
delay a call to National 7117, Washing-
ton. Within a minute Seder was talking
to FBI headquarters.

The special agent listened while he
told his story. And, a routine part of
the bureau's scientific battle against the
underworld, a transcript of everything
Seder said was made and filed in the
FBI headquarters. When Seder had

His gentle, kindly |

completed his crisp report, the agent
asked only one question:

“You're quite satisfied that this is a
genuine demand for ransom. Your
father couldn’t have made a private trip
or anything of that sort ?”

Seder said no, that he was immediately
going to Huntington, W. Va., where
his father lived.

“O.K. There’ll be a squad of agents
on the way to Huntington in a few
minutes. And, Mr. Seder, be very care-
ful of that letter. Don’t let anything hap-
pen to it. It may be valuable.”

The steel man thanked the federal
agent and hung up. Directly he placed
another call for his brother, Arthur
Seder, a railroad executive in St. Paul,
Minn.

“Dad's been kidnaped,” he told his
brother. “They want $50,000 ransom.
I’ve called the federal men. They’re on
their way.”

The shocked Arthur said he would
collect what money he could and come
east by plane. Thus the Seder sons and
the government’s agents converged on
Huntington to hunt down as cruel and
merciless a band of criminals as ever
challenged the forces of law and order.
That afternoon, Seder stepped off a train
in the West Virginia city without notic-
ing a wiry, well dressed young man
among the loungers at the station, but the
FBI man saw him, and everyone else
who got off. The kidnaping squad
already was on the job!

Detective Lieut. Leslie J. Swann met
Willard Seder at the door of the police
station and led him into his headquarters,

Orville Adkins, left, and
Arnett Booth, right, were
finally charged with the
torture kidnaping of Dr.
Seder because of a grudge
Booth held against the re-
tired minister over rental
for a piece of property.

where R. E. Vetterli, a special agent of
the Federal Bureau of Investigation, was
waiting. They shook hands.

“We've just started to work, Mr.
Seder,” Vetterli told him. “My men are
out looking things over now. Suppose
you start by telling me everything you
can about your father,”

While Lieut. Swann and the federal
man listened closely and a special agent
took down the story for the record of the
case Seder outlined his father’s quiet and
useful biography.

“There isn’t much to tell,” he began.
“Dad—Dr. James I. Seder—was born in
Montana, Wis. He entered the church
while he was still a young man and was
an active minister for 53 years. He spent
five years at Tokyo as an evangelical
missionary. But the climate did not
agree with him and he returned to this
country. He became interested in the
temperance movement and served as
state superintendent of the Anti-Saloon
League, first in Massachusetts, then in
New Mexico and Wisconsin. His last
assignment as state superintendent was
here in West Virginia. He resigned
from the ministry a few years ago and
has lived quietly here in Huntington,
carrying on his church work in a private
capacity.”

“Do you think he might have made
any enemies because of his temperance
work?” Vetterli asked.

“No. Dad hadn’t any enemies. He
was not the persecuting sort of dry
leader, if you know what I mean. He
believed in education and persuasion. [|

[Continued on page 54]


he Nein a ay i, Po Moon Pits

My Honeymoon in the Shadow of the Gallows (Continued from Page 15)

short refusal. While we were talking
the telephone rang. Johnnie picked up
the receiver. I heard a muffled voice
on the other end. Then Johnnie: said,
in a low tone: “Call me back a little
later, Orville, I can’t talk to you now.”
Johnnie hung up the receiver.

A dread suspicion swept over me.

“Johnnie, was that Orville Adkins?”
I asked.

Johnnie looked at me curiously, then
nodded his head. “Yes, it was.”

“What are you doing being friendly
with him, Johnnie? He’s been to prison
—he’s an ex-convict!”

Johnnie’s face seemed to tighten.
“Say, we’re not married yet. Start
dictating my friends when that hap-
pens, not before!” he returned angrily.

The tears sprang to my eyes. This
wasn’t the Johnnie that I knew. I
sacha to Dot, suggested we’d better
eave,

Throughout the afternoon I wondered
just why Orville Adkins had called
Johnnie—and why Johnnie had wanted
him to call back.

When I returned home I telephoned
Johnnie, but he wasn’t at home. And
that night, for the first time, he failed
to put in an appearance at the usual
time. As the minutes dragged on I be-
gan to envision all manner of things—
another girl, a gambling party, an acci-
dent. Not for a second did I dream of
the horrible, shocking task ‘which at
that very moment the boy I loved was
thoughtlessly undertaking. —

All the next day I helped Mother
with her work, trying to get Johnnie
ad of my mind. I was worried—and

ur.’ %

Around six o’clock in the evening I
heard footsteps and loud laughter on
the porch. I went to the door. It was
Johnnie—and Orville Adkins. It was
easy to see they had both been drink-

ing.

“Hello, honey,” said Johnnie, “I just
dropped by to tell you we’re going out
tonight to celebrate—and we’re going
to get married and go on a big honey-
moon!”

The grin died away from Orville Ad-
kins’ unshaven face. He took Johnnie
by the arm, “Come on, kid, you’ve
told her, now let’s go,” he said curtly.

Johnnie waved drunkenly as he
walked away. “Good-by, hon, see you
tonight.”

I went back into the house, my mind
whirling. I was angry and hurt. It
was the first time I had seen Johnnie
drunk. What was he going to cele-
brate? And what was taking place?

Why was Orville Adkins so intimate
with Johnnie?

At first I decided not to go with
Johnnie if he called. Then I decided
that if it was humanly possible I would
be the buffer between Johnnie and
Orville Adkins. Somehow I suspected
that Adkins would be along with
» Johnnie.

Johnnie was still intoxicated when
he called for me. I got in the car and
Orville was behind the wheel, grum-
bling that his girl friend was out some-
where “two-timing” him.

We went to the “Kozy Rest,” a
hurdy-gurdy night club in Huntington.
Try as I might, I couldn’t persuade
Johnnie to stop drinking. He kept
mumbling that the occasion called for
a great deal of celebration. Weren’t
we going to get married?

“But you haven’t a job yet, John-
nie,’ I protested.

“Never mind. I’m’ goin’ to have
plenty money. Just you wait and see!”

That night, urged by Mrs. Travis, I
stayed at the Travis home.

The next day, when Johnnie got up
and came out into the living-room, I
saw that he was restless and jittery.
‘I attributed it to the effects of the
heavy drinking. He apologized to me
for his actions the previous night.

“Tl forgive you if you promise not
to go with Orville Adkins any more,”
I told him.

“Oh, honey, he’s all right. Just be-
cause he was in prison—remember, I
was in some trouble, too, once upon
a time,” he protested. :

50

— but that was entirely differ-
mn

“Oh, don’t be grumpy, darling. Re-
member we're getting married! In
fact, we’re going to get the marriage
license right now!”

I thrilled at his words. “Let’s go
downtown now,” I said happily.

The smile vanished from his face.
He hesitated a moment, then said:
“Hon, I don’t feel so hot. Suppose
you go downtown and get it. Here’s
the money.”

| WAS disappointed, and yet I was
glad to go. I would have gone to the
farthermost part of the earth for him,
if necessary.

That evening I went home with
Johnnie and told Mother of our plans
to get married. She didn’t say a word,
merely turned and walked into an-
other room, closing the door. I knew
what was wrong. Mother didn’t want
me to get married, believing I was
entirely too young.

Johnnie remained with me _ until
around three o’clock in the morning. I

‘pressed him as to just where he was
going to get the large sum of money
for our honeymoon.

“Oh, it’s a business deal, honey.
You trust me, don’t you?” he asked.

“Of course I trust you, darling,” I
whispered back, blinded by.my happi-
ness. .

On Thursday morning all Huntington
seemed to be agog over the news of
the Reverend Doctor James I. Seder’s
strange disappearance from his home.
The world now knows the initial events
of that terrible happening—of how the
lights burned all day in Doctor Seder’s
home, attracting the attention of his
neighbors, of how police arrived to find
his apartment deserted, the bedclothes
strangely missing, as were his three
white canes, and how a State-wide
search was being undertaken. |

As for me, I merely glanced at the
headlines. There was tragedy in the
outside world; but tomorrow meant the
supreme day of happiness for Sunny.

The next evening, at six o’clock, as
a flaming sun sank softly over the
West Virginia hills, Johnnie and I were
married. When he took me in his arms
and kissed me, I believed that here-
after nothing could destroy the happi-
ness that was mine. I believed that!

Later in the evening we went to visit
my parents. Mother seemed to relent
a bit, but she remained chill and
somewhat aloof.

That night, back at Johnnie’s home,
he told me that we would have to post-
pone our honeymoon.

“Why, Johnnie?” I asked, puzzled.

“It’ll just be temporary,” he said.
“That business deal is still on, Sunny,
and I can’t say yet when I’ll get the
money.”

“Johnnie, what business deal is it?
You sound so mysterious about every-
thing.”

Johnnie pecked me with a kiss.
“Listen, hon; everything is going to be

all right. I’ve got a prospect of a job
in Burnwell. We'll go over there to-
morrow.”

He gave me a kiss, and everything
else was swept from my mind...

Saturday and Sunday were beautiful
days, crisp and flooded with sunshine.
Bill Lucas, Johnnie’s cousin in Burn-
well, had welcomed: us warmly; and
even though nothing elaborate marked
his welcoming or the first days of my
honeymoon, I was immensely happy
just being with Johnnie and meeting
his friends. .

On Monday Johnnie went out and
returned with a disappointed expres-
sion. I asked him what was wrong.
He told me the job had failed to pan
out,

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ll look
around. There may be another here
somewhere,” I consoled him. i

The next morning Johnnie went out
and came back in 20 minutes’ time
with several newspapers. Without say-
ing a word he sat down and began
reading intently. ,

whoney.

“Did you have any luck, darling?” I
ventured.

“I’m looking in the ‘Help Wanted’
columns now,” he returned rather
shortly, without looking up.

A few minutes later he tossed one of
the papers on the floor. I picked it up.
Suddenly I noted that the paper had
never even been opened up. Johnnie
had been reading the front page—
where there were a lot of pictures of
G-Men walking to the courthouse, to
Doctor Seder’s home, and of Lieutenant
Swann talking with Reed Vetterli, the
well-known Federal agent from New
York. The newspaper reported that
the G-Men were swarming into Hunt-
ington because certain evidence had
been discovered leading them to be-
lieve Doctor Seder had been kidnaped!

“Darling, the newspaper here says
Doctor Seder was kidnaped,” I re-
marked by way of conversation.

Johnnie brushed a hand through his
hair. “Oh, that’s a lot of stuff! I don’t
think he was—probably wandered off
somewhere, like some of the newspa-
pers and Lieutenant Swann said be-
fore... . Anyway, I’ve decided to go
back to Huntington!”

On the way back, Johnnie barely
spoke to me. He seemed extremely
moody, worried.

“What’s wrong, Johnnie?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he returned shortly.

When we arrived in Huntington

. Johnnie learned that his sister, Dot,

was alone with her sick child, so we
decided to go over and stay with her.
From then on, events passed with

‘ stunning rapidity. That night, around

eight o’clock, as we talked with Dot,
we heard newsboys shouting: “EX-
TRA! EXTRA!” Something important
must have happened, I thought, for the
Huntington papers seldom issued an
“Extra.”

Johnnie arose, went to the door and
whistled for a boy. A few seconds
later he returned, bent over the paper.
There was an odd expression on his
face.

“Why, what’s happened, Johnnie?”
I asked.

“The Seder relatives got a ransom
note from the kidnaper!” he replied
tonelessly. ;

“That poor man!” Dot said. “Then
he was kidnaped, after all! I wonder
who would be as mean as that!”

Johnnie picked up his hat. “I’m go-
ing out for a beer. Any of you want
anything?” We shook our heads.

“Johnnie’s been acting so strangely,”
I remarked to Dot when he had left.
“Maybe you know your brother better
than I do. What is wrong, Dot? Has
he discovered he’s not in love with
me?” Fearfully I awaited her answer.

Dot laughed. “Don’t be foolish,
I guess he’s worried about not
having a job, and being married and
not being able to have a real honey-
moon.”

The next morning Johnnie seemed to
be in better spirits. At Dot’s sugges-
tion we-decided to walk over and in-
spect a cute little house near by, which
was vacant.

|? WAS a darling house, and I en-
visioned the days of happiness we
were to spend there together.

About an hour later we returned to
Dot’s house to find Mother Travis
standing in the living-room, her face
sickeningly white. She seemed to have
aged ten years. Tears were streaming
down her face, and her eyes were pools
of misery. From the near-by bedroom
I heard Dot sobbing.

Daggers seemed to stab through my
heart. “What on earth has happened,
Mother?” I managed to ask.

“The police—the G-Men—this Vet-
terli fellow—and the detectives came
to the house last night and told me
to tell Johnnie to give himself up!” she
said in a choking voice.

I felt as if I had suddenly turned to

stone! For a minute my lips refused
to move. “Why—what has—Johnnie
done?” ,

Wordlessly Mother Travis sank into
a chair, buried her face in her arms,

‘at Booth’s place.

held.out a newspaper towards me. I
snatched at it, saw the huge, scream-
ing headlines: °

DOCTOR SEDER FOUND NEAR
DEATH IN ABANDONED. MINE
ARNETT BOOTH CONFESSES

KIDNAPING

NAMES JOHN TRAVIS AND OR-

VILLE ADKINS AS ACCOM-
PLICES

The room reeled around me. There
was no feeling in my face, my hands.
My heart seemed to give a great beat,
then stop completely. The tears sud-
denly began flooding my face. “It’s not
true!” I screamed. “It’s not true! I
was with Johnnie all the time. How
could he have done it?”

Mother Travis raised her head,
looked at Johnnie with swollen eyes.
Johnnie stood still, silent.

“Johnnie, is this true? Did you help
this Booth kidnap Doctor Seder?”
Mother asked, the tears still ,rolling
down her cheeks,

I saw Johnnie’s lips tremble; then he
hung his head.

“Mother, it’s true,” he said huskily.
“I didn’t know what I was doing. I
was drunk. Booth had made Orville
and me drink over a pint of whisky
apiece. Neither of us knew what we
were doing.”

The awful realization hammered at
my brain. My husband—the man I
loved so dearly—a kidnaper! I couldn’t
believe it! It was all a nightmare. I
would awake soon.

But the misery, the rising terror in
Johnnie’s voice were too real to be a
dream. He turned to me. “What shall
I do, Sunny?” he asked.

| LOOKED at him through an almost
blinding film of tears.

“Tell us what happened, Johnnie.
Then we can better decide what you
must do,” I managed to tell him. And
so Johnnie, his eyes like a hunted ani-
mal, began to pour out to Mother and
me the details of that terrible event—
details which, I feel sure, are told in
these pages for the first time in their
entirety.

“Mother,” Johnnie said, “you remem-
ber I got up around noon on that first
day of November. After breakfast I
met Orville Adkins and we walked
over to Arnett Booth’s apartment. ” I
had met Booth through Orville, and he
was always talking about his schemes
to make some easy money. He painted
some pretty pictures.”

He turned to me. “And, Sunny, I
wanted money quick, so we could get
married! Anyway, we began drinking
We drank up what
he had, and then he sent out for some
more, urging me to drink, that all the
whisky was on him. I vaguely remem-
ber he began talking about how easy it
would be to get some money from his
landlord, Doctor Seder, by taking him
away and holding him for ransom. We
talked and drank a lot, but I remember
that Booth didn’t drink so much.

“That night, Booth said he was go-
ing to borrow his father’s car, that he
had all the plans laid, and all we had
to do was to help. Booth came back
with the car, drove us down to Eigh-
teenth Street and Tenth Avenue, and
told us to wait for him, I kept telling
Orville we’d better get on home, but
neither of us had any carfare, so we
decided to wait for Booth. In a little
while he drove up in the roadster.
Someone was sitting up front. He
called out: “Let Travis ride the rum-
ble. He’s drunk and making too much
noise.”

“I got in the rumble, and Orville got
up front. Then we drove off. I heard
them talking up front, then a sudden
commotion. The car stopped, and I
heard Booth say: ‘One of you birds
put your coat over his head, quick!”

It didn’t take much imagination to
tell what the story was leading up to.
I seemed frozen with fear as Johnnie
went on:

“I jumped out of the car.' It was
parked on. the highway leading to

ADI


et OHNE AER Nah TRAN TOR PRE DT

I couldn’t. My throat, my face, my
vhole body was numb. There must
x%© someone to keep me from dying.
Che desperate thought whirled through
ny mind.

There was. The one Being I had least
hought of during the gay days that
iad flowed down the spillway of my
ife.

| KNEW little of prayer. But I prayed
with all my heart and soul,

All night, as the tears coursed down
ny cheeks, I prayed. Then I became
inconscious. My last fleeting thought
is the breath seemed to leave my body
vas: “Sunny, you didn’t deserve to
ive!”

Then, one morning, I awoke. Sun-
ight was streaming into the room. I
aw Mother sitting beside me, smiling
hrough her tears. The doctor was
inning down at me.

“Hello, Sunny!” he greeted me, smil-
ogly. “You ran a great race. You'll
e going home soon.”

How sweet those words sounded.
ome! No longer distasteful or ab-
orrent. I wanted to go home, this
ime with an almost passionate longing.

I was glad to get back to Hunting-
on, to feel once again the cheerful
riendliness of a Southern city. I never
(reamed that within a few short weeks
would be scorned and reviled by the
re friends who greeted me so cor-
lially.

The first of July—a momentous date
or me—was hot and sultry, and the
ight brought little relief. Mother
isked me to accompany her to church.
n past days I would have been quick
0 plead some excuse. But the past

vas over. If worship of Him was one

vay of expressing my gratitude, then I
vould gladly spend every night at
hurch.

During the sermon my glance strayed
‘bout. Suddenly an electric thrill went
hrough me! Sitting a few seats back
vas the most handsome boy I had ever
een. At least he seemed so to me.
fe had blond, wavy hair, blue eyes
nd finely chiseled features.

When services were over I watched
iim leave, my heart beating fast, like
he time when Ed McCaffery stood
vith me on a Westchester balcony. I
aw that he walked with a slight limp
~and my heart did a double flip when
noticed that he looked back several
imes,

The following Sunday I saw him

The hot spots seemed cold to Sunny Travis when death
loomed for the man. she loved, and she sought the
companionship of her parents, shown with her here

again, sitting in the same seat. I
looked back boldly, once or twice. 1
could hardly breathe when he smiled
openly.

We met on the steps of the church
following services. Mother was en-
gaged in conversation with some of
her friends. I stood alone, But not
for long.

Someone spoke softly behind me. I
turned.

“. , . Listen, don’t think me rude,
but I’ve tried to find someone to in-
troduce us, and I can’t. So I’m going
to introduce myself. I’m Johnnie
Travis.” He smiled, half-fearful, half-
embarrassed. ;

I wondered if he could hear my
heart beating so loudly. “My name is
Verla Belcher,” I finally managed to
say, “but only Mother knows that, I
“guess. Everyone calls me ‘Sunny.’”

From then on we began talking with
a bit more ease. I invited him on a
weinie roast, which was supposed to
take place the following night. He
accepted.

The next night was a bit of heaven
that I had never found in the night
clubs of New York ... The swaying
pines, the crackling fire beside the
rippling stream, the mountains in the
distance leaning against the starlit
sky. It was like a dream.

And when we were driving home I
pitied the world and all those who
could not taste of the supreme happi-
ness that I felt—Johnnie, just before
leaving the grounds, had told me that
he loved me!

ROM then on we saw each other
day and night. Two months later
Johnnie asked to marry me.

“TI love you, Johnnie—any time, any
place,” I told him.

“I'd like to, tomorrow, Sunny—but
I haven’t a job. I guess we’ve got to
wait,” he said slowly.

The days passed quickly. I was
with Johnnie almost every moment we
could get together. Then came the day
of November 1, 1937—a day I shall
never forget, a day when, unknown to
me, the fuse was lit which was to
shatter our world.

On that day Dot Lockheart, John-
nie’s sister, and I had decided to go
into town. I wanted Johnnie to go
with us, so we strolled over to his
house.

I was surprised at his somewhat

(Continued on Page 50)

The main street of Accoville, West Virginia, which proved too small and quiet for Sunny Travis, even when she was a little girl

DL

.

15

It was after a meeting on the steps of this church (almost at the spot where Sunny is standing) that

of the “crushes” that are part of the
sweet memories of a young girl. I
began wondering what was wrong
with me.

And then it happened—one Autumn
night at a party in Westchester. He
was tall, extremely handsome, and
with the graying temples that appear
so terribly romantic to a young girl.

All during the party I noticed that
he kept staring at me. Finally, when
the party was about to break up, he
danced with me. He was a wonderful
dancer. Then we walked out on a
balcony.

‘ “Your name is Sunny, isn’t it?” he

e

gan.
“Yes,” I said, “but I can’t remember
your name.” : .

I saw him hesitate a moment. “Mc-
Caffery—Ed McCaffery. You’d better
forget the last part because from now
on I’m just Ed—and I intend to see
you a lot,” he said, with quiet assur-
ance.

We stood still, side by side, and
stared at the soft glow that hung in
the heavens, high over Manhattan.
Suddenly he placed his arms around
me and kissed me. -

I began seeing a great deal of Ed,
He became terribly attractive to me.
Just what position he held, the work
he did, I did not know. As a matter
of fact, he appeared to have a great
deal of leisure time, but always had
plenty of money and dressed like a
model in a clothes advertisement,

After several weeks of courtship Ed
asked to marry me.

I told him I would write to Mother.
I did, that very night, but back came
a_strong letter of disapproval from
Mother.

14

Saas Pi he ‘

4¢
eas

Po te

"Johnny's Earthly Troubles Are Over.
But I—I Must Go on, Must Suffer All

My Life. 1 Can Never Escape from

Those Terrible

“

- +. You are far too young to
marry a man of 38, Sunny, a man
whom you admit you know nothing
about and who does not wish to tell
you anything about his past life or his
work,” Mother wrote.

As usual, she was right, but I
wouldn’t admit it. I decided to marry
Ed. Sunny could do as she pleased.

Y hagen night of our engagement Ed took

me to a gorgeous house. It was
one of the most beautifully furnished
houses I had ever been in.

Ed turned on the radio and brought
me a drink. We sat down on a sofa
in the spacious living-room. Ed kissed
me. Suddenly I heard the front door
open, and ‘a woman’s heels clicking
in the hallway.

Then a stylishly gowned woman
stood before us, her lips smiling some-
what disdainfully. She was beautiful,
with raven-black hair and deep-set
blue eyes. I turned a questioning
glance to Ed. He sat stone-still. I saw
the muscles in his jaw pulsate.

“Sorry to interrupt, Ed,” smiled the
woman in a cool fashion. “It was
awfully thoughtless of me not to tell
you I was coming home so soon.”

Thoughts .. ."

My heart dropped at the implication
of her words. “Who are you?” I finally
managed to ask.

“I happen to be Mrs, McCaffery,
child,” the woman said, a bit more
gently.

Hot tears began scalding down my
cheeks. I ran to the door—out into
the black void—to run and hide.

I ran like an insane person for block
after block, only vaguely conscious of
people who stared at me. Finally, com-
pletely worn and exhausted, my heart
like a stone weight, I stumbled into
the house,

For weeks afterwards I stayed away
from all parties and dances. They
seemed empty, hollow. Then Time,
the great healer, pronounced me cured.

I started back into the gay swing of
parties and night clubs. One night I
met a charming girl by the name of
Mary-Lou Brown. Through her I met
Jimmy—Jimmy Davis, 22, with the
build and good looks of a Greek god,
and: who seemed to like the good
times I did:

We began dating a great deal, and
the inevitable happened. I fell madly
in love with Jimmy—or so I thought.

There were wonderful days to-

pleats SOE AP

a romance started only to end in tragedy weeks later

gether. Jimmy became more and more
attractive to me. I thought here at
last was the man I loved.

And then it happened—as if Life
was saying: “Sunny, you’ve had enough
of happiness, it’s time for a few heart-
aches.” Jimmy was growing tired of
me. I could see it in his eyes, tell it
in his voice and actions. I knew what
was coming. I could hear those terrible
words—“We're through, Sunny!”

| DECIDED not to wait and hear those

words. I packed as quickly as I
could, declining to explain to my wor-
ried relatives, and started for Detroit.
I had friends there who I knew would
welcome me. §

My one burning desire was to Jet
away and forget Jimmy. I thought
that there was only one way—the way
that many a girl has tried with disas-
trous results. Once in Detroit I en-

tered into a ceaseless whirl of men,,.

dates, dances and parties.

Three months later I became dread-
fully ill. I was taken to a Detroit hos-
pital, where I lapsed into a semi-coma.

When I recovered consciousness, I °

saw Mother sitting beside the bed,
weeping silently. A terrible, heart-
shattering fear came over me. I didn’t
want to die! Life, even with its heart-
aches, was sweet and dear!

“Mother, am I going to die?” I
asked.

Mother tried to speak. She couldn’t,
A doctor came and led her away.

Through a window I saw a tree,
bare of leaves, swaying before the
wind. I felt icy cold. My heart beat
slowly, heavily. I wanted to scream
out—I wanted to shout out that I
wasn’t ready to die.

ADI

Wayne. I saw this old man with white
hair and glasses. It was Doctor Seder,”

I wanted to yell, but the sound
wouldn’t come. I heard Johnnie say-
ng?

“T told Booth L wasn’t going to throw
a coat over the old man, that he’d bet-
ter give up the whole job. Booth got
mad and hollered: ‘What the Hell is
the matter with you?—getting yellow?’
Doctor Seder began pleading with him
to release him. Booth threatened to
hit him with his fist if he didn’t shut
up.

“Finally Booth started the car up
again and we drove off. Some time
later we pulled into a field and stopped
beside a log cabin. All of us went in,
Doctor Seder was so frightened he
could hardly talk. He kept pleading
with Booth to let him go back, that he
would be caught and punished for what
he was doing. But Booth only told him
to shut up. Booth got from Doctor
Seder the information that he had some
money hidden in the pantry, so he and
Adkins decided to go back after it. Be-
fore leaving, Booth turned to Dr. Seder
and said; ‘We don’t want you to
croak on us too soon, Doc, so we'll bring
you some bedclothing back. It won't
be any too comfortable where we'll put
you.’ They went out, leaving me to
guard Doctor Seder. I felt the whisky
begin dying off, and Doctor Seder asked
me who I was and who my parents
were and why I was doing this. I told
him I was from Detroit. He told me all
this was a terrible thing, and asked me
if I would pray with him. I told him I
would. I made him comfortable as I
could by placing some old clothes on
the floor. Then he prayed an awful
nice prayer for me. He began asking
me as to who the other men were, and
said he was almost positive that the
baldheaded one was a man by the name
of Booth, and one of his tenants.

“In a little while, that is, somewhere
around midnight, Booth and Adkins re-
turned with some bedclothes and some
more whisky. We carried Doctor Seder
out to this abandoned coal. mine. Booth

told me to stay with the Doctor and .

have him write a ransom note. When
they left I fixed the bedclothes for
Doctor Seder, put an overcoat around
his legs, and told him that he could
write the note in the morning. Neither
of us slept that night. Several times
Doctor Seder knelt down in prayer,
and two or three times I joined him.
When morning came I told Doctor
Seder he could write the note, Shortly
afterwards, Booth and Adkins came
back. I gave Booth the note and he
began cursing about a double-cross,
Said that Doctor Seder had put in the
note he was being held in a cave
twenty miles south of Wayne, West
Virginia. Booth handed me a tablet
with a pencil and told me to have Doc-
tor Seder write this, as well as I can
remember:

“‘T have been kidnaped, Four men
forced me into a car, | was on an all-
night drive from Huntington. I don’t
know where I am at. They want $30,-
000. For my sake meet their demands
for you know what it means.’

“All this time Booth stayed at the
top of the mine and didn’t come down.
I got the note and took it up to him.
Booth read it and handed me an enve-
lope with a special delivery stamp on
it and told me to tell Doctor Seder to
address it; then he wrote out a note for
me to recopy and reword, giving the
denominations of the bills demanded.
I gave the envelope to Doctor Seder,

and he addressed it to his son, at St.
Paul, Minnesota,

“Booth told me to come on out, that
he’d ride me back to Huntington, and
that Doctor Seder couldn't possibly
crawl out the cave alone. When we
got back to Huntington he took the let-
ter in the special-delivery envelope and
said he’d mail it, but for me to be sure
and write the other note and mail it.
This I never did. That ransom note
the Seders got must havo come from
Booth. He kept calling me and Ad-
kins, and tried to get me to go to some
bridge with him. His idea, Mother, I’m
sure, was to bump me off, Tuesday
Orville and I stayed drunk. The next
day we talked about rescuing Doctor
Seder, but that afternoon Booth met us
at Fourteenth and Tenth and told us
he had killed Doctor Seder after beat-
ing him up! You know the rest!”

When Johnnie had finished, Mother
Travis said softly: “Come, Johnnie, let’s
go home now.” I shall never forget
that look in her eyes—like a wounded
animal who knows that life afterwards
will be a living death of hurt and tor-
ture, :

We went home. Mother Travis
picked up the telephone and called
Police Headquarters.

“This is Mrs. Travis. My son is here

now.”

Ove the wire came a muffled shout:
“Keep him there, Mrs. Travis!”

“There’s no question of keeping him
here,” replied Mother, in trembling
tones. ‘“He’s here, and he’s not run-
ning away from anyone.”

Only a few minutes later there was
the scream of brakes in front of the
house. Then the tramp of feet on the
porch. A loud, preemptory knock,
Johnnie got up, stood trembling like a
leaf. Mother opened the door. There
were five or six men. I recognized
only Detectives Hagley and Farris,

“All right, Travis, let’s go,” a tall
man with slick black hair said.

I ran to Johnnie, threw myself into
his arms. “Don’t let me down, Sunny,”
he whispered. >

“Never—never!” I cried. “I'll fight
for you, Johnnie—fight like no other
woman has ever fought!”

The next day came the tragic news
that Doctor Seder had died in the hos-
pital as the result of Booth’s beating
and exposure. All efforts to save him
had been in vain.

Arnett Booth, Orville Adkins and
Johnnie were to be tried on charges of
first-degree murder. “I'll hang every
one of them!” said Prosecutor Ernest
Winters to the newspapers,

Murder! Hanging! The words struck
further unholy terror to my heart. You
who live quiet, peaceful lives can
hardly conceive of the limitless terror
in those words—especially when the
man you love stands on the brink of
the boiling cauldron that seethes over
those two words.

In the flaming days that passed, I
fought for Johnnie with all my heart
and soul. I tried to raise money from
all my relatives, to get the best
lawyers available. I sought to find
witnesses, to prove that Johnnie wasn’t
as black as Mr. Winters painted him.
I conferred every day with my reporter
friend, Joe Klasman, of the Huntington
Advertiser, whose solace and advice I
shall always remember, Days of work,
worry, scorn, contempt, revulsion, re-

. buffs—days that had been reserved for

our honeymoon of happiness became a
honeymoon of horror!

On December 5, Arnett Booth, the
buld-headed ringleader and plotter of
the kidnaping, went on trial in Cabell
County Courthouse, in Huntington,

The following Saturday the jury
brought in a verdict of guilty of murder
in the first degree. Booth must die on
the gallows!

Two days later Johnnie and Orville
Adams went on trial. Johnnie’s attor-
neys expressed confidence that because
of mitigating circumstances he wouldn't
be given the death penalty.

But little did we realize the full ex-
tent of Prosecutor Winters’ power and
eloquence. Time after time Mr. Win-
ters thundered that Johnnie and Or-
ville deserved no mercy, that they
could have saved Dr. Sedex’s life, that
had they really repented they wouldn't
have danced and caroused at the
“Kozy Rest.”

On Friday I watched the jury file out,
my‘heart in my throat. Forty-five min-
utes later they returned. There was a
deathly silence in the high-vaulted
courtroom, packed with people. Then
came the verdict: Guilty as charged!
Death on the scaffold!

Through scalding tears I saw John-
nie, his attorneys, the entire audience,
stare at the jury in stunned disbelief.
Then Johnnie fell to his chair, racking
sobs shaking his body. I ran to him,
tried to stifle my own tears in order to
comfort and console him. A few min-
utes later the blood-congealing words
had been pronounced—“hanged by the
neck until you are dead!”—, and they
were leading Johnnie away. I sud-
denly felt as if the chill hand of Death
itself was clutching at my shoulders,
holding me from fleeing from a worse
torment to ‘come.

Once more I fought to stifle my fear
and dread, to fight for Johnnie's life
with every weapon I could muster,
Many persons tried to persuade me to
renounce him, that I could go my way
and soon be free of any stigma. They
could not realize the extent of a
woman’s love. I fought, I hoped, I
prayed—prayed for my Johnnie. I,
who thought I had loved the big-city
hot spots and meeting new, interesting
people, spent most of the time in the
companionship of my parents.

But all our fighting proved useless,
Every appeal was denied. Slowly we
watched every opportunity, every hope
vanish. Closer and closer came the
day of doom, the day of Death ,..

On March 21 my husband, the man
I loved, died on the gallows in Mounds-
ville, several miles from Huntington.

Sometimes, when the pain in my
heart eases a little, I like to think
that the prayer Doctor Seder said for
Johnnie will help just a bit. I know
in my heart that he had no conception
of the terrible thing he was doing. I
shall never believe other than Johnnie
thought he was entering upon a lark,
the pleasure and profit of which were

‘ heightened to him with the fumes of

alcohol. This boy that I loved and
who loved me could not know that it
was to be a lark with Death!—Death,
who does not know how to play!

I know that the blood of Doctor
Seder is on his hands, as it is on Ar-
nett Booth’s and Orville Adkins’, Yet
somehow I like to feel that in the Be-
yond he and the kindly minister have
met again, that a bestowal of forgive-
ness has been made by the man who
died so terribly, and so needlessly,

For another illustration with this
story turn to Page 49.

What Chance Has My Baby Now? (Continued from Page 7)

“Just hate,” I said. “I’d wash off a-
pig’s foot, if it had a hole in it.”

“Did you say ‘hole?’” asked Tootsie.

“Bullet-hole,” I said evenly. “Who
shot you?” .

“Got me, eh? All right, I robbed a
joint. A copper saw me coming out
and winged me. Satisfied?”

“I don’t want you back here again,”
I said. “If you come back here again
Pll tell Eddy and Joe.” R

«v. “You. will, eh? Well, listen, sister, :

Your brother and Chuck’s been play-

ADI

ing around with two gats for two
weeks. They’ve pulled four jobs I
know of—so pinch yourself and wake
up. That goes for you, too,” he said,
glaring at Dorothy. “Don’t get cocky
with me, baby, or I'll yap on you.
How about that drunk you rolled in a
hotel last month? Yeah, Doris, she
makes him for two hundred and gives
me a double-sawbuck to keep my
mouth shut. The cheapskate! You!”

he said, pointing a finger at-Dorothy,

: PU come back here all I damn _please,:,..who. was leaning. back on a pillow,

biting her lips. “Just get in my hair

because I like this lady here and you
start making underwear at Marys-
ville. Wrap this hand up, you,” he
said to me. “And do it sweetly, like
you loved me,”

An hour later he left, after drinking
three cups of coffee and taunting Dor-
othy and me with insults.

The instant he was gone Dorothy
started packing. “I’m scrammin’,” she
said furiously., “That bozo’s a rat. He’s
a, squealer. for the coppers .and his.
brain is addled, I’m taking.j4 run-
out powder—quick!”

THis pres
cious oil

he te dir
out ive jef in

SEND NO MONEY
Pestana only £1.00, pis post
after using: hilt of jar. return balance ane
The Rattlesnake Products Co., Dept. 16

LUC

SY Are You Untucky, U
4 Horseshoe and 4-Le:

é “wishing? Rin :
lieved ‘Lucky’ Charms, Wear it! $1.97 P
c.0.D., Si
Guaranteed or Money Returned, Order
ASTROL CO., Dept. R-93, Main P.O, Box 72, B:

Enjoy -BEAUTTEU
SNATURAL® LOOKING *
FA LSE. TEETH

LOW PRICES

Made to order by FIT.
Y method BY MAIL, at
Finest Quality, MONEY!

EN ANTEE YOU WILL BE $A"
NO MONEY take your word, Catalog
sion material FREE, ¥

UNITED STATES DENTAL CO!

Dept. 6A38, 1555 Milwaukee Avenue

—of Bargains in Military,
Outdoor and Spore Goods,
Clothes, Shoes, Boots, Blankers,
Tents, Firearms, Boy Scout Sup-
plies, etc. Send 10¢ for copy to

gee be redeemed on first order.

A ANON SUPPLY
Formerly Army & Navy Supply
4826 Lester Se, Richmond,

New York Doctor Lo

HIGH BLOOD PRESS
in 22 out of 26 c:

Dr. Frederi¢ Damrau, eminent physiciar
York City, recently lowered the blood pr
22 out of 26 cas-s with ALLIMIN E:
Garlic-Parsley Tablets. Not only did t
pressure come down and stay down wit] |
of ALLIMIN, but dizziness and headac
completely relieved in almost every case
the selfsame tablets used by Dr. Damrau,
drugyist for ALLIMIN Essence of Garli
Tablets and tale no substitutes or in
For FREE samp'e and valuable booklct |
address, Van Patten Co., 64 W, Illinois,

WHAT CAUSES EPILEI
IS THERE A CURE’

A booklet containing the opin:
famous doctors on this interestin
ag will be sent FREE, while th«
O any reader writing to the Educ
Division, 551 Fifth Ave., Dept.
New York, N. Y.

RAILWAY e RNMENT MAIL
a j Cores CARRIER
eis : ' “4
Pn
=
>
-
é
DYER
[y" d
UE
S/

START .
$1260 to $2100 Ye

Men Women 7 — a a et ee ee
FRANKLIN INSTI’

poe. appoint: 7 Dept. 8246, Rochester
Pett a 7 Gentlemen: Rush FREE
scal year, 1, 8, Government big pay p
Get ready Send FREE 32-page hook de

)
immediately. wa salaries, hours, work and tellin,
—e - qualify for @ position,

Coupon” Name...

today,
SURE. /Addr08.oocccccccccecccs.


THE MURDER OF ABRAM DEEM

During the Civil war, and, in fact, for some decades after, tempers
were Short in this section of the mountain state. The crimes of Union home
guards and Confederate guerillas are still to this day remembered by Wood
County residents whose ancestors suffered at the hands of those whose en-
thusiasm was more noted than their bravery.

Abram Deem was a respected member of a Lubeck district family,
married, and the father of several children. He was cruelly murdered on
September 16th, 1864. Mr Deem was well liked by his neighbors, and
although he had little to say regarding the conflict then raging between the
north and south, like many of his neighbors, and indeed like many of the

prominent people of Wood County, it is known that his sympathy was with
the Confederacy.

Lieutenant Kenley of the Union army assisted the local authorities in
the investigation of Deem's murder, and he is credited with making the first
arrest in the case. The arrest of Daniel Grogan, member of a prominent fam-
ily. Grogan admitted the crime and implicated Thomas Boice and Mortimer .
Gibbony as his accomplices. Boice was immediately arrested. Gibbony was

arrested near Coolville, Ohio on September 19th and brought to Wood County
jail at Parkersburg.

On October 17th, 1864, a Wood County grand jury under the foreman-
ship of Jefferson Gibbens returned the following indictment.
"An Indictment against Daniel Grogan, Thomas Boice and Mortimer

Gibbony, alias Mortimore Gibbony, alias George Smith. For murder a true
bill".

In his confession to the murder which incidently contains the story of
his life, or as much of it as he wished known, Gibbony never mentions the
fact that he used an alias. Because of his age, and the fact that Grogan was
evidently the ring leader in the murder, ma:iy people were inclined to think
that some leniency should have been accorded to Gibbony. The facts are
that he was probably the greatest scoundrel of the three. Gibbony, according
to his confession, seemed to have had an honorable war record, but accord-
ing to the actual records he first enlisted in the Union army in Louisville,
Kentucky. His girl friend swore he was her brother and under military age,
and he was discharged. On June 16th, 1861 he enlisted in the 19th Ohio
Infantry for three months service. He served that enlistment and was dis-
charged at Marietta on September 20th. Regarding his enlistment in the
Fourth Pennsylvania Cavalry, he probably deserted, for he enlisted in the
10th Regiment Virginia infantry on April 12th, 1862. He deserted at Clarks-
burg November llth, 1862. Being in and out of military service seemed tobe
a hobby with Gibbony, for under the ging gg Martin Gibney he later enlisted

ERE ae eee eee Basenerse cb hake tae
LUE RCRIREETER e  eOUetg SRRB NE

MMlaungeanaeet eas cones tt

=
ah


2

in the 3rd West Virginia cavalry. The report of the Adjutant General for West
Virginia, which was published in 1865, refers to him as a deserter with this

statement. "He has since been arrested, tried, and sentenced to be hung for
murder."

The day following the return of the indictment, Grogan, Boice and Gib-
bony offered not guilty pleas to the indictment for murder and Grogan's at-
torney offered a motion to quash the indictment which Judge Loomis overruled.

The prisoners elected to sever in the trial, and as Gibbony had no at-
torney or the means to employ one, the court appointed James N. Jackson and
Joseph Spencer, two very prominent attorneys, to represent him.

At the time of the trials, the sheriff of the county was H. H. Dils,
whose deputies were M. P. Kincheloe and Thomas Leach.

Grogan's trial began on Wednesday, October 19th, 1864, and ended
with a guilty verdict on October 26th. George H. Lee was the attorney for
both Grogan and Boice,

Boice was next tried. He was found guilty on October 3rd after a trial
that lasted only three days. Gibbony's trial occupied even less time. It
began November lst, 1864 and he was found guilty on November 2nd. On
Wednesday, November 2nd, Judge Loomis sentenced the three to hang on Fri-
day the 16th day of June, 1865. In the meantime, the at=crneys for the three
convicted men had not been idle. They obtained a stay of execution and ap-
pealed the case to the Supreme Court of Appeals, which body affirmed the de-
cision of the Circuit Court for Wood County.

On the 2nd day of the October term of the Circuit Court for Wood County, |
Daniel Grogan, Thomas Boice and Mortimer Gibbony were again separately
led to the bar to hear the sentence of the court which was as follows. "It is
therefore considered by the court that the said Daniel Grogan, Thomas Boice
and Mortimer Gibbony be hanged by the neck, execution of the judgment
aforesaid be made and done upon the said Daniel Grogan, Thomas Boice and
Mortimer Gibbony by the high sheriff of Wood County on Friday, the 24th day
of November, 1865, between the hours of 12 noon and 3 in the afternoon of
the same day at some convenient place in the County of Wood and outside the
jail yard of said County."

On October 28th, 1865, Grogan and Boice, through their attorney, ask-
ed the court for time to apply for a writ of error so the court ordered a post-
ponement of their execution until Friday, February 9th, 1866. Apparently
Gibbony's attorneys realized the futility of further efforts in his behalf and
were content to allow his conviction to stand. But not Gibbony, for on the
eve of his scheduled execution he escaped from jail.

Justice was slow even ninety years ago, but time ends all things. So
on Friday, February 9th, 1866, Parkersburg put on its gala attire and prepar-
ed for the crowning infamy of its sadistic age, the execution of Daniel Grogan
and Thomas Boice. A scaffold had been prepared in advance. It was located

Philip Connizarro ("Big Nose Philip")

DOE & MEANS

name Richard Ferri ("Dapper Dick") PLACE — CITY OR COUNTY

Nicholas Salamante (The Sphinx ven") Va. SP (Harrison County) h 1--192h;
DOB OR AGE RACE OCCUPATION RESIDENCE GEN

26-26-33 White

CRIME hs 16 -1923 OTHER

Murder
VICTIM (a Kelly Hill barber) AGE RACE METHOD

Frank Naples white

MOTIVE

"Black Hand" plot

SYNOPSIS
On night before executions, all showed signs of nervousness, All slept some, but the mobt ner-
. Ee , mere ! j he dis

played the greatest nerve of all but prior to execution was wreck of former self, Connizarro

= A a 'e
~ = =

ifs he

trap added to scaffold which theretofore only had provisions for two men to hange For last

meal they (all Catholics and refrained from other meats) ordered baked fish, cream of corn soup,
mashed potatoes, celery, lettuck, olives, pickles, bread, butter, coffee, cake, pie, ice cream
and cigaretts, CLARKSBURG DAILY TELBGRAPH, 1-)-192h, Mrs, Le first woman to witness in WVA

g te OSG, Hea BAe —_COWR— ane S ace anc 2 ~
It was apparent that he had collapsed and could not stand up without
3 sf 9 A narro who had earlier KXXVEAXXEYS ied ‘ 2
against cell bars was too weak to sband and was bound securely to a board, Connizarro was also
ki to Ferri's right also appeared to have lapsed in to EBB uncon-
scolisness, Ferri pronounced dead after 10 minutes, 30 seconds; Connizarro after 11 minutes,
20 seconds; Salamante after 13 minutes, and , unusual in hanging, his entire body moved 8 minute

after trap fell. None of their necks were broken, They made no confessions as far as was KMOWn,
Gannizarro and Salamahte both buried in prison cemetery. Ferri's body claimed by woman who he

had once befriended while she was ill in hospital, CLARKS ;

Note: While I have received the TELEGRAM once for date of murder, did not read, Am ordering in-
stead Mrs. Davis’ HISTORY OF HARRISON COUNTY through ILL and should get what iwant there,

TRIAL

APPEALS

a.

LAST WORDS

EXECUTION

SOURCE

FRANK NEWTON OFFICE SUPP


ADKINS, Orville, BOOTH, Arnett, and TRAVIS, John, whites, hanged W. Va. SP (Cabell County)
on March 21, 1938.

"KIDNAPPERS DRAW LOTS FOR DEATH. = ABDUCTORS OF ANTI-SALOON CRUSADER DIE ON EASTERN GAL@
LOWS, - Moundsville, We Va., March 21, 1938, = (AP) = Three men died on the gallows tonight,
the first to pay the extreme penalty in West Virginia for kidnaping. James Travis, 25, and
Orville Adkins, 25, fell through the trap together at 9:02% pem. and Arnett A. Rooth, 2K ))6-
year-old World War veteran was hanged 3) minutes later, The trap under Adkins dropped pre-
maturely before the noose was AMJMEXTHE adjusted, plunging him into a concrete pit beneath
the gallows, Blood dripped from a small cut near his ear and he appeared dazed, He was
placed on a stretcher and handed back through the trap. Back on the gallows he stood erect.
Warden C. M,. Stone said the trap dropped because of a slight mechanical defect, = Three con-~
dermed kidnapers of Dr. James I, Seder prayed tonight with a prison chaplain as the hour fo
their execution neared. Shaved and dressed in new black suits, the trio goes to the gallow
(at 9:30 P.M. EST) for the fatal abduction of the 29-year-old retired minister from his

home in Huntington, We Vae, last November, ‘West Virginia penitentiary's gallows has only a
double trap and a toss of a coin will decide which of the three will die first. The con-=
demned men are Arnett A, Booth, l\6-year“old World War veteran, James Travis, 25, and Orvil
Adkins, 25, all of WMHWKXH#KH Huntington, Booth, described as the leader of the kidnap ring,
declared in a statement to Warden C. Me Stone that he ‘had the assistance of another man!

in enticing Dr. Seder from his home, but did not identify the man. He added: 'The reason I
never AMMKAKKNXRAXKA appealed for a new trial was that I wanted the other boys (Travis and
Adkins) to KAXX8XEXKKKAJXXXXK have a break.' Travis and Adkins lost their appeal for clem-
ency to Gove Elmer Holt, All three urged young Persons to stay away from liquor and gam-
bling, and Booth added, 'I thought I was having a good time but just see where it bought
mee! RAXKHHXK For their last meals, Booth and Travis ate fried chicken and lemon pie and
Adkins feasted upon fried oysters, French fried potatoes and fresh strawberries. Dr. Seder
was held captive in an abandned mine for eleven days after he was taken from his home,
While his captors were away, he escaped, but died ), days later of pneumonia which physician
attri uted to exposure in the damp pit. A $50,000.00 ransm was demanded but never paid."
CIARION-IEDGER. Jackson, Mississippi, March 22, 1938 (lhe)