“Yes, I took more than that,” replied Lorenz. “The last time I heard Lingg speak in Zepf’s Hall, I went and got drunk. On May 4, I heard all the boys speak on the wagon at the Haymarket, but I did not stay there until it was over. I went into a saloon a block away from there and got drunk in no time, and when I woke up the next morning I was in bed in one of the cheap lodging-houses.”
Not knowing anything definite, he was released by the State’s Attorney, and he has not since been heard from. He has probably retired to some other city to renew his drunks at Anarchist headquarters on the free beer usually provided.
CHAPTER XIV.
Completing the Case—Looking for Lingg—The Bomb-maker’s Birth—Was he of Royal Blood?—A Romantic Family History—Lingg and his Mother—Captured Correspondence—A Desperate and Dangerous Character—Lingg Disappears—A Faint Trail Found—Looking for Express Wagon 1999—The Number that Cost the Fugitive his Life—A Desperado at Bay—Schuettler’s Death Grapple—Lingg in the Shackles—His Statement at the Station—The Transfer to the Jail—Lingg’s Love for Children—The Identity of his Sweetheart—An Interview with Hubner—His Confession—The Meeting at Neff’s Place
WITH the information already obtained we had managed to secure a pretty clear insight into the diabolical plots of the “revolutionary groups.” It was apparent that Chicago had been regarded by Anarchists everywhere as the head center of Socialism in America, and that it had been decided that here should be the first test of strength in the establishment of the new social order. Any reasoning, sentient being ought to have seen the utter folly of such an undertaking in the very midst of millions of liberty-loving, law-abiding citizens, but these Anarchists, hypnotized as they were by the plausible sophisms and the inflammatory writings of unscrupulous men bent on notoriety, could view it in no other light than as a grand stride towards their goal. As boys are led astray by yellow-covered literature, these poor fools were crazed by Anarchistic vaporings. Day or night, sleeping or waking, the beauties of the new social order to be inaugurated by the revolution were continually before their minds.
It was clear that such people were capable of desperate deeds, and that it was not only necessary to bring to justice the instigators of the massacre, but to show their deluded followers the inevitable result of carrying out ideas repugnant to our free institutions and inconsistent with common sense and right.
With so many facts before us, we redoubled our efforts to capture every dangerous Anarchist leader in the city, and the next one to fall into the toils was no less a personage than the bomb-maker, Louis Lingg.
This notorious Anarchist came to Chicago when about twenty-one years of age. He had learned the carpenter’s trade in Germany, and when not engaged in spreading Anarchy’s doctrines, he pursued that calling to liquidate his board bills and personal expenses. He was a tall, lithe, well-built, handsome fellow, and, while not of a nervous disposition, his nature was so active and aggressive that he never appeared at rest. Sleeping or waking, Anarchy and the most effective methods of establishing it were uppermost in his thoughts. By reason of his very restlessness it was not difficult to trace him in Socialistic circles when on his tours of agitation, and it was noticeable, too, that he never remained at any one point for any regular length of time. His make-up was a queer combination of nerve, energy and push. His mind seemed always weighted with some great burden. Perhaps there was a reason for this not alone in his radical beliefs, but in his blood and birth.