BATEATO SUMMONS BIG MUCH POLICE. A vitagraph film of Bateato's journey to and from the police station would consist of a series of dark brown blurs. If you have ever noticed a mouse in full flight you will have some idea of how that Jap ran. He knew where the police station was, too, for he had been there once when his brother, Itchi Comia, was arrested for assaulting a Russian peddler. If the little Jap had only coursed through another street things might have gone somewhat differently in the Gladwin household, for he would have encountered Whitney Barnes hurrying in the opposite direction, and that young man would very likely have prevented him from going to the station. But there was absolutely no obstacle in Bateato's way until he reached the station house, and the only obstacle he encountered there was a serious impediment in his speech. Police Captain Stone had returned to barracks a few minutes after the departure of Barnes and a few minutes before the arrival of Bateato. He was standing beside the lieutenant's chair when the Jap sped in, and he seemed almost interested (for a police captain) at the extraordinary manifestations of emotion in Bateato's countenance. "All pleece--quick--robbers--thieves--ladies!" began Bateato, then paused and made wild jabs above his head with his hands. "Crazy as a nut," said the lieutenant in an undertone to the captain, and the captain nodded. "All pictures--thieves--steal ladies!" was Bateato's second instalment, and the captain and lieutenant looked at each other and shook their heads. "Big much pleece!" shrieked Bateato, made some more motions with his hands and rushed out into the street. "It's Jap whiskey," said the captain, musingly, utterly unimpressed. "He isn't crazy. That Jap whiskey's awful stuff. They licked the Russian army on it. He'll run it off. If you ever see a Jap runnin' you'll know what's the matter." Bateato ran a block and then stopped. "Hell damn!" he exploded. "I no tell where house." He ran back to the station and burst in again with even more precipitation. "I no tell house," he rattled off. "Mr. Gladwin--Travers Gladwin. Big lot white house--Fifth avenue--eighty, eighty, eighty. Quick--thieves--ladies!" and he was gone again before Captain Stone could remove his cigar from his face. The captain looked at the lieutenant and the lieutenant looked at the captain. "Maybe he ain't drunk, Captain," ventured the lieutenant. "There's that Gladwin house on the books. It's marked closed and there's a note about a million-dollar collection of paintings." The captain thought a moment and then burst into action: "Call the reserves and get the patrol wagon," he shouted. "I remember that Jap. I guess there's something doing. I'll go myself." As the reserves were all asleep and the horses had to be hitched to the patrol wagon Bateato had a big start of his big much pleece.