“Don’t forget—don’t forget—four hundred ninety-one Collamore Street—four hundred ninety-one Collamore Street—west side—west side—man smoking a pipe—west side of Collamore Street—he saw them take it away from him. Oh, get him—somebody go and get him—he saw it all!” Even while this was being repeated (as it was a number of times) there was the beginning of a quiet and unobtrusive movement by some of the newspaper men toward the door. But they found the meek and inoffensive person from the office of the chief of police standing before it and pulling his coat back the merest trifle so that the edge of his badge could be seen. “Sorry but you’ll have to wait a minute, gentlemen,” he said in an undertone, and before the reporters recovered from their astonishment he slipped through the door. The indignant journalists started to follow him, but they found a bulky patrolman just outside who declined to let them pass. The only reply to their furious questions was, “Orders.” * * * * * It was a great surprise to James Rathbun, who lived with his family on the second floor of 491 Collamore Street, Roxbury district, and was employed in a ladies’ boot and shoe factory near the railroad, to be roused from bed when he’d scarcely more than gone to it, and questioned by a couple of men who appeared to be ordinary citizens, but were accompanied by the patrolman on that beat. No, he didn’t know anything at all about the murder over to Torrington Road, excepting what he’d seen in the papers.... Sure he’d read about it.... No, he didn’t know anyone concerned in it and hadn’t seen any of them so far as he was aware of. They must have got the wrong place, hadn’t they?... He couldn’t say as he remembered of anything special happening around there on the night of the murder.... No, he hadn’t noticed anyone taking anything away from anybody that night—unless they—unless——Why hold on now! There _was_ a kind of a fight down in the street, now he came to think of it, and he’d gone down and tried to stop it, but it was about as good as over when he got there. But now they were speaking about taking away something from somebody, maybe that was what they meant.... No, not money or a watch, it wasn’t, but the other feller’s gun.... No, he hadn’t any idea at all who they was.... Sure, he’d go to the Inspector’s office if they wanted him to, but there wasn’t much of anything to it so far as he could see.