TELEPHONE TRAGEDIES.

Wanganui Chronicle, Issue 12840, 8 December 1911, Page 2

TELEPHONE TRAGEDIES.

GIRL OERATOII ASSISTS POLICE ARUANGE FUli BKOTHEll'fci ABJIEST ON A MURDER CHARGE. TERRIBLE ORDEAL. Tho telephone girl may seem a commonplace figure to tho short-sighted, but around her fingers may bo twined the strands of our future. Like a judge upon a bench, she sits and ponders about our fate and passes sentence. Tho sentence depends upon whether she decides upon interference or non-inter-ference. In Dixon, Illinois, U.S.A., Miss /.Cilia Webster came to the oirtce punctually to take charge of the night shiJ t in tho main omce. fciho hung up hei hat and jacket, fluffed up her hair h <fore tho little square mirror, and smiled " Good-night" at tho girl on tho day shift, feiio answered a call for a young man who wanted to take a. girl to* a moving picture show. She permitted a- young wife to confide to her husband that tne baby had a tooth. She heard a politician invite another to a meeting of a few of the boys just to talk things over. An angry housewife gave the grocer a protracted piece of her mind because he had forgotten her order for. brown sugar. All of those Miss Webster heard, but did not consciously hear. Her lingers pulled out tho plugs and tmshed them in again. She said "Hello" "and "Waiting" when necessary, and her eyes looked beyond the switchboard. Her thoughts travelled further. Suddenly she sat very straight, and her cheeks went as white as tho plastered wall of the exchange room. " Hello! This is the offico of the Chief of Police of Chicago. We've got a line on your man." ,- "On which man? You don't mean l)oc Webster?" "Bo careful about names. Telephone lines leak. Yes. He's expected at the Polyclinic Hospital at eight this morning! Can you take tho next train?" "I can get tho train, but I'll have to get tho papers first." "Get tho help oi the State Attorney. Ho'll open shop at night for anything so important." "All right, Chier." "Wait. Hello. Sheriff!" "Yes, Chief." "Better briiu,j tho papers from tho Coroner's office, too. They may bo needed. Wo mustn't lot tho fellow give us tho slip through some technicality." "All right, Chief. It 1 can get him to his cilice." "Thunder and lightning! Of course, you can get him to the oltico. Use the telephone. Don't fail to get the train. Want you to assist in the identification. Good-bye." The slim black figure at the switchboard swayed. Her trembling hands fell to her lap and shook there as leaves are tossed ma hollow by a wind. Rilla. Webster was but 19. Everyone said sho "looked young for her age." Now, with drawn white face,: she looked 10 years older. "Bzz!" rasped tho board. "That you, Sheriff? Pardon me. You -want"what? The Coroner's office?" Her shaking hand was suspended. It seized the plug. "Yes. Tho Coroner's office at home. Yes. There, Mr Sheriff.',' Her shaking hands refused their office. After all, HE WAS HER BROTHER, Maybe he was innocent. Blood was thicker than water, had n stronger claim greater than justice. .Should she warn him? Sho knew the telephone number of his boardinghouse in Chicago. A few words from her and ho could havo five hours' start of his pursuers. "Bzz! Bzz!" Tho telephone Mas showing the .anger and .impatience of the-ppi'&oh'at .the end of the line. Rilla Webster,paid no attention. She reached for another plugt Sho shifted it Her voice caino almost in a per"That you, Chicago? Get me-r. don't. A mistake. . Pardon me." "Bzz!" shrieked tho switchboard. , "Yes, Mr Sheriff. Yes. 1 can get you tho State's Attorney. He telegraphed frojn his club a little while ago." - Temptation again threw its black sha.doir across her path, shutting out tho jifcht bf duty 'She could fail to locatethe* State'b Attorney. It would be bo ..easy'. ■'■ - . ■ -.'■'■-.■. ■ ' ■ ■-; ' • ■ "Yes Tho,: Country. Club? Yes. I» ■•he State's Attorney there? Please get him to "the;'phone at once; The—the Sheriff--— - _ v • ' v v;,/. ,-:",■_ ' _ \ - ■ ' "No, nothing at all, thank you—a slight cold, perKajw.' Can you get him to the telephone:' Yes, Mr Sheriff — they've sent for him. Thero he is." The work was admirably done. The Sheriff got his papers, made his train, met the plain clothes men from tho Police Department, captured Dr. Webster, helped to put him through the I third degree and wring from him after fiyo hours the confession of how he killed his wife to avoid a charge of bigamy. In the excitement that followed in both cities the fact that Rilla Webster, telephone operator, was found/ in a swoon beside tho switchboard almost escaped notice. So did the fact that Rilla Wobster was the murderer's sister. Mist> Webster was ill for two weeks after her brother's arrest. From her sick bed she told why sho had performed a deed as heroically unselfish as that of tho Roman judge, Brutus, who sentenced his own son to death. In a Western American city a telephono girl sitting in a telephone room, quiet at that midnight hour, heard harsh voices. Sho stared about tho empty room. "I'll kill ycu!:' shouted a voice thick with anger. " You dare not touch me, you cowardl " Tho woman never finished tho sentence. Thero was a scream, a fall. Tho telephone operator thrust a plug in and called: " Tho police station. Hurry, please. Is this tho police station? Pleaso send a man to No. 23(5? Russell Street. A man is killing a woman. Certainly I know. They had left the receiver off the hook. It was a 'live line.' " The nolico caught tffe man as ho was slinking out of the door carrying a dress suit case, his hat pulled low and hia coat collar turned up. Ho ha& cspfitiated his crimo because a telephoe girl, playing fate, broko tht> rules and interfered.