Mysteries of the missing

by Edward H. Smith

“Hs-s-sh!” said the mother, laying her finger on her lips and listening like a hunted doe.

In an instant she sprang out of her chair, ran into the hall, out of the door, down the walk to the street, and out of the gate. The two men sprang up and followed in time to see her catch the missing boy into her arms. She had heard his footfall.

The news of the boy’s return was flashed to police headquarters within a few minutes, and the detective chief went at once to the Cudahy home to hear the returning boy’s story. It was simple and brief enough.

Eddie Cudahy had left Doctor Rustin’s house the night before, and gone directly homeward. Three or four doors from his parents’ house Eddie Cudahy was suddenly confronted by two men who faced him with revolvers, called him Eddie McGee, declared that he was wanted for theft, that they were officers, and that he must come to the police station. He protested that he was not Eddie McGee, and that he could be identified in the house yonder; but his captors forced him into their buggy and drove off, warning him to make no outcry. They had gone only a few blocks when they changed their tone, tied the lad’s arms behind him, and put a bandage over his eyes and another over his mouth, so that he could not cry out. He understood that he had been kidnapped.

Thus trussed up and prevented from either seeing where he was being taken, or making any outcry, the young fellow was driven about for an hour, and finally delivered to an old house, which he believed to be unfurnished, judging from the hollow sound of the footsteps, as he and his captors were going up the stairs. He was taken into a room on the second floor, seated in a chair, and handcuffed to it. His gag was removed, but not the bandage on his eyes. He was supplied with cigarettes and offered food, but he could not eat. One of the two men stood guard, the other departing at once, but returning later on.

All that night and the next day the boy was unable to sleep. But he sensed that his captor seemed to be imbibing whisky with great regularity. Finally, about an hour before he had been set free, Eddie heard the other man return and hold a whispered conversation with his guard. The boy was then taken from the house, put back into the same buggy, driven to within a quarter of a mile of his father’s home, and released. He ran for home, and his captors drove off.

Eddie Cudahy could not give any working description of the criminals. He had not got a good look at them in the street when they seized him, because it was dark, and they had the brims of their large hats pulled down over their eyes. Immediately afterward he had been bandaged and deprived of all further chance of observation. One man was tall, and the other short. The tall man seemed to be in command. The short man had been his guard. He thought there was a third man who was bringing in reports.

There were just two dimly promising lines of investigation. First, it would surely be possible to find the house in which the boy had been held captive, for Omaha was not so large that there were many empty houses to suit the description furnished by the boy. Besides, the time at which any such house had been rented would offer evidence. It might be possible to get a clew to the identity of the kidnappers through the description of the person or persons who had done the renting.

Second, the kidnappers must have got the horse and buggy somewhere; most likely from a local livery stable. If its source could be found, the liveryman also would be able to describe the persons with whom he had done business.

So the police set to work, searching the town again for house and for stable. They found several deserted two-story cottages that fitted the picture well enough, and in each instance there were circumstances which seemed to indicate that the kidnappers had been there. Finally, however, all were eliminated, except a crude two-story cabin at 3604 Grover Street. This turned out to be the place, situated near the outskirts, on the top of a hill, with the nearest neighbors a block away. Cigarette ends, burned matches, empty whisky bottles, and windows covered with newspapers gave silent, but conclusive, testimony.