I Am a Fugitive from a Georgia Chain Gang!

XI. In the Coils of Legal Red Tape

C H A P T E R X I In the Coils of Legal Red Tape AS I the man referred to in this letter? "Yes," I replied. I was stupefied, my head was reeling. Quickly they saw I was not a criminal. They were very much surprised and sympathized with me. I called in MacBain —explained the situation briefly to him, told him he would have to carry on. I called up Lillian—told her what I could in a short telephone conversation. I signed a batch of blank checks for MacBain to carry on with. And then I left with the officers. I was locked up in the new State Street Police Headquarters with the riff-raff of the underworld. While I was in jail, MacBain saw Attorney Kaplan and they started some plan for my release. By 1 o'clock, Lillian finally located me. She was in tears. We talked through iron bars. She promised me her loyalty and love. She would wait for me. The police spoke to me about extradition—I signed a waiver—and told them I'd go back. If Georgia was so vicious and cruel as to wreak its brutal vengeance on me now, Fd go back and take my medicine. Perhaps when they heard my story they'd see the injustice and let me 107 W 108 I Am A Fugitive go. Two officials from Georgia wired that they were on the way. So eager for their prey! By 2 o'clock my friends were coming to see me. All kinds of plans were in the making. I explained that I would go back and try to find mercy and justice, if there were any in Georgia. By 3 o'clock I wassurrounded by reporters. As yet, nothing had appeared in the newspapers. I refused to make any statement. They insisted. They wouldn't take no for an answer. Someone told them I was a World War veteran. Finally, to get rid of them, I answered questions and gave them some facts. In an hour the papers were on the street with screaming headlines. At 5 o'clock, Attorney Kaplan, accompanied by Attorney Cameron Latter, came to see me. Mr. Latter was a stranger to me. He promised that for $1,000 he would prevent extradition, and also told me that MacBain had already paid him $350 on account. That was really news to me. I told him to go ahead. All that evening and far into the night friends—both wealthy and poor—were constantly coming in. It seemedeverybody in Chicago was out to help me. A certain high police official called me into his office. By now I wasan honored prisoner. A celebrity. Everything was done for my comfort. I wastreated with deference and respect. I had a talk with this official. He is a fine, able man—honest and efficient. A type of police officer that is far too scarce. Our conversation was about as follows: "Sit down, Burns, and make yourself at home," indicating a chair. "There are a lot of prominent people interested Legal Red Tape 109 in your case,* and it seems a pity to send you back to the chain gang. As far as I am concerned, if it is left up to me, you will never go back. I received word that two officers from Georgia are en route here. As long as you are in my custody, they will never get you. "I suppose your friends are planning some legal move to defeat extradition, but if you listen to me I can fix it so you will never have to go back. "There are a lot of unsolved murders here, as you know. I can request that you be held as a suspect in one of these cases. Naturally, you are innocent and can prove a perfect defense—but the idea is—each time the case would come up I will ask for a postponement and so drag it out for several years, and thus defeat your return to Georgia. Think this over, Burns, as I am your friend and can't see why Georgia wants you to go back after making good here. The whole thing is ridiculous." I thanked him, and being very curious as to who and what caused my exposure, I asked: "Do you know how Georgia notified you of my location ?" "Yes!" he answered. "I...