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Newspaper Page Text
POLICEMAN BEEHAM IS ANOTHER COP WHO IS RECKLESS IN THE HANDLING OF A GUN , boy's hurt. Somebody ought to at tend to him." Tony Groijow, 19 years old, 1814 Grand avenue, was shot in the leg ' by Policeman Beeham of the West Chicago avenue police station for running one block on Hoyne avenue. This occurred last Saturday. Bee ham has neither been reprimanded nor punished yet. He still is allowed to carry a gun, a loaded gun, capable of planting bullets in other boys' legs. The shooting of Gronow occurred shortly after 6 o'clock in the even ing about the. corner of Hoyne ave nue and Erie street. . A dozen or so boys had been play ing craps at the corner of Hoyne and Ohio . Gronow was standing there, -watching .them. Gronow was not playing; just looking on. Policemen Beeham and Rodin lum bered upon the crap players; they shouted to them that they were un der .arrest Naturally, the crap play ers ran. Naturally, Gronow ran with them. . , Gronow and another boy, David Harris, 20. years old, of 2140 West Erie street, ran north on Hoyne to Erie. Beeham ran heavily after them. The boys gained, on the policeman. The policeman drew his revolver. He fired once or twice into the air. Then he fired again. But not into the air; into Tony Gronow's left leg just above the knee. The boy crumpled up on the ground. The puffing, policeman, smoking revolver in- hand, paid no at tention to him. He ran on, after Harris. The boy on" the sidewalk groaned aloud. James Gybul, a grocer, of zi vi West Erie street, who had seen him fall, crossed over to where Bee ham was 'puffing over his prisoner, Harris. "That boy back there," said Cybul. "He's hurt; you shot him." "What's it to you?" demanded jBeeham. "Nothing," said Cybul. "But that "You got no business buttin' in," said Beeham. "But the boy's hurt," said Cybul. "You're under arrest," said Bee ham. "What for?" demanded Cybul. "For interferin' with an officer in the course of his duty' said Beeham, heavily. Beeham telephoned for the patrol wagon and the ambulance. Then he walked over to where Gronow lay groaning in pain. "You ain't hurt," he said. "Get up."1 "I can't," said the boy. "Aw, can that stuff," said the" po liceman. "You ain't hurt at all. Get up." The boy slowly withdrew his hand from his wound. It was red, red with blood. "Ain't I hurt?" he asked. Beeham looked at the red-stained hand dully. "I guess you are," he said, and lumbered-back to the corner with his two prisoners, leaving the boy lying on the sidewalk. "Let's carry him to a drug store," said some one. Beeham turned around threaten ingly. "You leave that fella alone," he said. Charles Hunche, 2140 West Erie street, a cousin of David Harris, one of Beeham's prisoners, came up the Btreet He saw his cousin under ar rest He started to talk to him about arranging bonds. Beeham's heavy hand fell on Hunche's shoulder. "Who the are you?" he de manded. "I'm this boy!s cousin," said Hunche. "Oh, y'are, are you," sneered Bee ham. "What are you talkin' to h for?"