Every citizen of Chicago demanded justice for the brave men who had fallen—justice on the miscreants who had done them to death. Knowing what I did of the manner in which the detective work was apt to be done, it will not be wondered that I at once made up my mind to do what lay in my power to hunt these murderers down. Even had I not so concluded, the events of that day, the 5th of May, would have fastened the determination in my mind. At ten o’clock in the morning I was ordered by telephone to report at the Central Station at once with two companies—trouble was momentarily expected on the Black Road. When I had disposed my men at the City Hall, and arranged for the patrol wagons we were to occupy if a call should come, there was nothing to do but wait in the Chief’s office till we were summoned. No one ever had a better opportunity of seeing how the police business of the city was transacted. It was a time of acute excitement, the day after the Haymarket. The Chief was in a state of alarm that would have been ridiculous if it had not been pitiable. Whenever the telephone rang, he would start nervously and demand, “Is that on the prairie, or the Black Road?” and when assured that there was no trouble, his relief was absurdly manifest. Among the detectives the topic was whether they would be called on to work in the Anarchist case and how many they would be expected to arrest. Another question that bothered them was: What would the old man (Mayor Harrison) say if they went to work arresting Anarchists, and how would he like it? The officers who did their duty after such a stupendous crime as the slaughter of the police officers would never have lost anything in the end, even if they should have lost their positions. The question, “How would Harrison like it?” as asked by one of the detectives, should, therefore, have cut no figure, and possibly it did not. Probably the officer fell back upon it as an excuse for his own laziness and incompetence. But one thing is certain, and that is that the department did nothing to speak of in the case. [Illustration: OFFICER HENRY PALMER. From a Photograph.] I saw some of those red-handed murderers come out of that office smiling and laughing instead of being made to feel that they were about to have a rope around their necks. In fact, the Central Office was run so that no one could tell who was officer, waiter or janitor. Everybody had a full sweep in and out of the office, and if a prisoner happened to be brought in by some well-meaning officer, everybody was allowed to hear the investigation. It was a sort of town meeting, and it was free to all.