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Shortly after five o'clock this morning, on East Thirty-ninth Street, a



laborer named Pete Lascalle, while on his way to work, was stabbed to the

heart by an unknown assailant, who escaped by running. The police have been



unable to discover any motive for the murder.

"Impossible!" was Mr. Hale's rejoinder, when I had read the item aloud; but



the incidentevidently weighed upon his mind, for late in the afternoon, with

many epithets denunciatory of his foolishness, he asked me to acquaint the



police with the affair. I had the pleasure of being laughed at in the

Inspector's private office, although I went away with the assurance that they



would look into it and that the vicinity of Polk and Clermont would be doubly

patrolled on the night mentioned. There it dropped, till the two weeks had



sped by, when the following note came to us through the mail:

OFFICE OF THE M. OF M. October 15, 1899.



MR. EBEN HALE, Money Baron:

Dear Sir,--Your second victim has fallen on schedule time. We are in no hurry;



but to increase the pressure we shall henceforth kill weekly. To protect

ourselves against police interference we shall hereafter inform you of the



event but a little prior to or simultaneously with the deed. Trusting this

finds you in good health,



We are,

THE MINIONS OF MIDAS.



This time Mr. Hale took up the paper, and after a brief search, read to me

this account:



A DASTARDLY CRIME

Joseph Donahue, assigned only last night to special patrol duty in the



Eleventh Ward, at midnight was shot through the brain and instantly killed.

The tragedy was enacted in the full glare of the street lights on the corner



of Polk Street and Clermont Avenue. Our society is indeed unstable when the

custodians of its peace are thus openly and wantonly shot down. The police



have so far been unable to obtain the slightest clue.

Barely had he finished this when the police arrived--the Inspector himself and



two of his keenest sleuths. Alarm sat upon their faces, and it was plain that

they were seriously perturbed. Though the facts were so few and simple, we



talked long, going over the affair again and again. When the Inspector went

away, he confidentlyassured us that everything would soon be straightened out



and the assassins run to earth. In the meantime he thought it well to detail

guards for the protection of Mr. Hale and myself, and several more to be



constantly on the vigil about the house and grounds. After the lapse of a

week, at one o'clock in the afternoon, this telegram was received:



OFFICE OF THE M. OF M. October 2I, 1899.

MR. EBEN HALE, Money Baron:



Dear Sir,--We are sorry to note how completely you have misunderstood us. You

have seen fit to surround yourself and household with armed guards, as though,



forsooth, we were common criminals, apt to break in upon you and wrest away by

force your twenty millions. Believe us, this is farthest from our intention.



You will readilycomprehend, after a little sober thought, that your life is

dear to us. Do not be afraid. We would not hurt you for the world. It is our



policy to cherish you tenderly and protect you from all harm. Your death means

nothing to us. If it did, rest assured that we would not hesitate a moment in



destroying you. Think this over, Mr. Hale. When you have paid us our price,

there will be need of retrenchment. Dismiss your guards now, and cut down your



expenses.

Within minutes of the time you receive this a nurse-girl will have been choked



to death in Brentwood Park. The body may be found in the shrubbery lining the

path which leads off to the left from the band-stand.



Cordially yours,

THE MINIONS OF MIDAS.






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