The fact that a raid was being made became known outside the offices and in a short time several thousand persons gathered. Crowds peered through the windows and doors. The Chicago Open Board of Trade is directly across the alley in the rear of Sullivan's offices, and business there was at a standstill for a time. The traders gathered about Sullivan's offices and remained until the last prisoner had been taken away in the patrol wagon.
Sullivan himself was in his private office when the raid was made. Wooldridge broke open the door and faced the man at the desk.
"You are under arrest, Mr. Sullivan," said the detective. Sullivan grew pale and then reached his hand to the telegraph instrument which stood on the table. He started to work it.
"Stop that!" ordered Wooldridge. But Sullivan continued. Wooldridge made a leap for the trader and forced him away from the instrument. But the trader was not to be thwarted. He reached over the detective's shoulder, and again the click began. Wooldridge then seized the instrument and hurled it into the desk.
"Cut all telephone and telegraph wires," was the order given by Wooldridge, and the frenzied occupants of the place were thrown into terror. There was a mad rush for the door, but the detectives stood in the way. Every inducement was offered the policemen, but efforts failed.
Then Sullivan claimed that he had an injunction issued by Judge Elbridge Hanecy forbidding the police from raiding his place.
"I have an injunction from Judge Hanecy to stop you!" yelled Sullivan. "Show me the injunction, then," replied Wooldridge, "and I will obey it. If not, I am an officer of the court and have warrants here charging you with keeping a bucketshop and gambling house."
The injunction which Sullivan claimed to have was found by the police in one of his drawers in blank form, without any signature, together with the following letter to one of his managers:
May 19, 1903.
Mr. Charles A. Warren,
New York.