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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, November 01, 1912, Image 3

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1912-11-01/ed-1/seq-3/

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inerciless rain of questions.
In jail at Lima, she was fprced
to give a complete account of
whaj: she had done on the night
of the murder.
She contradicted herself in her
story. The contradictions were
shown to her, and the questions
asked all over again. '
Chicago detectives reached
Lima. last jtiight, and took thetwo
prisoners aboard a Chicago train
which left at 1 o'clock in the
morning.
, And all through the long six
hour ride to Chicago, Detective
O'Connor threw question after
question at Beatrice Ryall.
Once, on the train, she .broke
down, and weeping hysterically,
begged for sleep, saying she could
stand it no longer.
O'Connor gave her a few min
nutes.to recover in, and then the
pitiless questioning went on
again, endlessly, the. same thing
over and over again.'
When Chicago was reached,
the wbman was given a little
breakfast, over which she almost
choked, and then taken to the
Stanton avenue police station
There she wa staken before
Captain Ndofbaar and Lieut.
Crotty, and the merciless ques
tions began again.
Still she held out, and still she
swore that Conway and herself
had left Chicago with6ut know
ledge of ;he murder of Sophia
Singer.
So the police turned an extra
screw, and a man entered and left
the darkened room where the
questioning was going on.
"Who is that" man?" the wo
man asked.
"Oh, just a man interested in
the murder," said the police offi
cials. Then suddenly the light was
thrown on, and the woman was
face to face with the fiance of
the murdered woman, William R.
Warthen.
Warthen had been schooled in
the part he was to play by the
police. For a few minutes he
stared coldly at the woman. I hen
he raised his .hand and pointed
a finger at her,
"You," he shouted. "You are
the murderer! You killed my,
sweetheart!"
"No. No. No! I didn't," she
sobbed, and broke down com
pletely. She was given a few "minutes
to recover, and then Warthen
drew, a chair up by her side.
"Why did you do this?" he
"I didn't. I didn't. I didn'el"
the woman screamed.
"You know Sophia was- your
best friend," continued Warthen.
"She would have done anything
for you. She would have given
you the clothes off her back."
"I know she was a good friend
of' mine. She was a better friend
of mine than shewas of yours,"
said the woman.
"Then why did you do it?" de
manded Warthen, his voice rising
to a shout.
"Oh, I didn't," sobbed-the wo
man. "Well Conway did. Conway's
a crook. Why don't you confess

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