ARTHUR.T Stories ------The Franklin Syndicate --V---Page 27

Mr. Clark repressed his natural inclination to kick the insolent fellow

forcibly out of his office, invited him to be seated and rang for a

stenographer. Ammon asserted his anxiety to assist the District Attorney
by every means in his power, but denied knowing the whereabouts of
Miller, alleging that he was simply acting as his counsel. Mr. Clark
replied that in Miller's absence the grand jury might take the view
that Ammon himself was the principal. At this Ammon calmly assured his
host that as far as he was concerned he was ready to go before the grand
jury at any time.

"That is just what I want," returned Mr. Clark, "the grand jury is in session. Come over."

Ammon arose with a smile and accompanied the District Attorney towards the door of the grand jury room. Just outside he suddenly placed his
hand to his head as if recollecting something.

"One moment," he exclaimed. "I forgot that I have an engagement. I will come over to-morrow."

"Ah!" retorted Mr. Clark, "I do not think you will be here to-morrow."

Two weeks later Miller was safely ensconced without bail in Raymond Street jail.

Schlessinger, who got away with one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars in cash, fled to Europe where he lived high, frequenting the
race tracks and gaming tables until he was called to his final account a year or two ago. The money which he took has never been traced. Miller was tried, convicted and sent to Sing Sing. The Appellate Division of
the Supreme Court then reversed his conviction, but later, on appeal to the Court of Appeals, it was sustained.

Of the enormous sums turned over to Ammon Miller received nothing save the money necessary for his support in Montreal, for the lawyers who
defended him, and five dollars per week for his wife and child up to the
time he turned State's evidence. It is interesting to note that among
the counsel representing Miller upon his trial was Ammon himself.
Miller's wife and child were not sent to Montreal by Ammon, nor did the
latter secure bail for his client at any time during his different
periods of incarceration. The colonel knew very well that it was a
choice between himself and Miller and took no steps which might
necessitate the election falling upon himself.

The conviction of Miller, with his sentence to ten years in State's

prison did not, however, prevent the indictment of Ammon for receiving

stolen money in New York County, although the chance that he would ever
have to suffer for his crime seemed small indeed. The reader must bear
in mind that up to the time of Ammon's trial Miller had never admitted
his guilt; that he was still absolutely, and apparently irrevocably,
under Ammon's sinister influence, keeping in constant communication with
him and implicitly obeying his instructions while in prison; and that
Miller's wife and child were dependent upon Ammon for their daily bread.
No wonder Ammon strode the streets confident that his creature would
never betray him.

"Now, Billy, you don't want to be shooting off your mouth up here," was
his parting injunction to his dupe on his final visit to Sing Sing
before he became a guest there himself at the expense of the People.

Miller followed his orders to the letter, and the stipend was increased to the munificent sum of forty dollars per month.

Meantime the case against Ammon languished and the District Attorney of
New York County was at his wits' end to devise a means to procure the
evidence to convict him. To do this it would be necessary to establish
affirmatively that the thirty thousand five hundred dollars received by
Ammon from Miller and deposited with Wells, Fargo & Co. was the
_identical_ money stolen by Miller from the victims of the Franklin
Syndicate. It was easy enough to prove that Miller stole hundreds of
thousands of dollars, that Ammon received hundreds of thousands, but you
had to prove that the same money stolen by Miller passed to the hands of
Ammon. Only one man in the world, as Ammon had foreseen, could supply
this last necessary link in the chain of evidence and he was a
convict--and mute.

It now became the task of the District Attorney to induce Miller to

confess the truth and take the stand against Ammon. He had been in

prison a considerable time and his health was such as to necessitate his being transferred to the hospital ward. Several of the District
Attorney's assistants visited him at various times at Sing Sing in the
hope of being able to persuade him to turn State's evidence, but all
their efforts were in vain. Miller refused absolutely to say anything
that would tend to implicate Ammon.

At last the District Attorney himself, accompanied by Mr. Nott, who

later prosecuted Ammon, made a special trip to Sing Sing to see what
could be done. They found Miller lying upon his prison pallet, his harsh
cough and blazing eyes speaking only too patently of his condition. At
first Mr. Nott tried to engage him in conversation while the District
Attorney occupied himself with other business in another part of the
ward, but it was easily apparent that Miller would say nothing. The
District Attorney then approached the bed where Miller was lying and
inquired if it were true that he declined to say anything which might

tend to incriminate Ammon. After some hesitation Miller replied that,
even if he should testify against his old accomplice, there was nothing to show that he would be pardoned, and that he would not talk unless he had actually in his hands some paper or writing which would guarantee that if he did so he would be set free.

The spectacle of a convicted felon haggling with an officer of the law

over the terms upon which he would consent to avail himself of an

opportunity to make the only reparation still possible angered the

District Attorney, and, turning fiercely upon the prisoner, he arraigned

him in scathing terms, stating that he was a miserable swindler and

thief, who had robbed thousands of poor people of all the money they had
in the world, that he showed himself devoid of every spark of decency or
repentance by refusing to assist the law in punishing his confederate
and assisting his victims in getting back what was left of the money,
and that he, the District Attorney, felt himself humiliated in having
consented to come there to visit and talk with such a heartless and
depraved specimen of humanity. The District Attorney then turned his
back upon Miller, whose eyes filled with tears, but who made no
response.

A few moments later the convict asked permission to speak to the District Attorney alone. With some reluctance the latter granted the request and the others drew away.

"Mr. District Attorney," said the wretched man in a trembling voice,
with the tears still suffusing his eyes, "I _am_ a thief; I did rob all
those poor people, and I am heartily sorry for it. I would gladly die,
if by doing so I could pay them back. But I haven't a single cent of all
the money that I stole and the only thing that stands between my wife
and baby and starvation is my keeping silence. If I did what you ask,
the only money they have to live on would be stopped. I can't see them
starve, glad as I would be to do what I can now to make up for the wrong
I have done."