A Ghost-haunted Room.
The following extraordinary story in connection with the Maxwell-Preller murder was recently telegraphed to New York from St. Louis, where the murder took place : The terrible tragedy enacted on April 5, in room 144 of the Southern Hotel, is again revived by the strange experiences of the guests who have recently occupied the apartment. It was in room 144 that Maxwell chloroformed Preller to death, and then packed the body in a trunk, The room was not occupied for many months, and the hotel people found it necessary to change the number to 133. The experience of a guest one night recently was told on the following day. The gentleman is a business man of wellbalanced mind, “ I knew nothing at all about the room when I took it,” he said. “ In fact, the Maxwell-Preller tragedy had wholly escaped me, I went to bed at my usual hour, and was awakened with a start by hearing a strange tapping against the head of the bed. There was one tap and then two others in quick succession, I was aroused in an instant, but heard nothing more. The same tapping occurred several other times during the night, but I thought little of it. The next evening I noticed that the drawers of the bureau would always open, however often I closed them, I pushed them in whenever I passed near the bureau but they would invariably open again, as though forced out by some unseen agency. Still I was not alarmed. The most startling occurrence, and that which decided me to quit the room, came on the third night, I ordered the fire to be discontinued, because it was warm enough without one, and retired for the night. I had noticed that the chambermaid had entirely cleared the hearth of debris, and not so much as a scrap of paper was left in it. About one o’clock I was awakened by an explosion on the hearth that sounded like a big fire cracker. I was scared, you can bet. A second explosion, a little louder, followed, and then came a third, which capped the climax. It was terribly violent, and the detonation was fearful. I arose, lighted the gas, dressed, and looked at the hearth. It was completely filled with a slate substance that looked like ore of some kind, and one of the large cubes that made up the hearth was torn from the brickwork or tiling. Pieces of slate were thrown across the room. I went downstairs and told the night clerk to come right to the room and see what had happened. He refused with a sickly smile. I returned to the room, passed a sleepless night, and changed my room next day. I then learned from a friend the history of the room.”
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A Ghost-haunted Room., Evening Star, Issue 7906, 14 May 1889
A Ghost-haunted Room. Evening Star, Issue 7906, 14 May 1889
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