"Wild Man" Frightens Housewives

1920

Police Are Called When He Flourishes Knife.

KANSAS CITY, Kan. — Dick Cashin, acting sergeant of police here, answered the telephone when it rang violently at police headquarters about 11 o'clock a.m.

"Come out to Seventh street and Sandusky avenue at once!" a woman's voice called excitedly. "There's a wild man out here flourishing a knife. He's terrible looking. O-o-o-o-h please hurry!"

Cashin sprang into a police car. With him was Policeman W. C. Miller. They tore desperately down the street, veering dangerously as they turned corners at death defying speed.

At Seventh street and Sandusky avenue they found their "wild man." And he looked the part.

Bleary Eyes; Matted Whiskers.

Two bleary eyes peeked out of a heavy underbrush of matted whiskers. Unkempt hair fell about the ears and neck in a profusion of revolting unloveliness. A tattered straw hat was grimy with dirt.

A torn shirt, soiled with the accumulation of many days' wear, topped a pair of frayed trousers. A piece of rough twine held the trousers in place. Bare, grimy ankles surmount a pair of rusty low shoes. Altogether the man looked as if he were a candidate for Bolshevist president.

"Who are you?" Cashin asked.

"My name is Abednego Milligan," he replied.

"What do you do?" was the next question.

"I'm a salesman for a mercantile house in Kansas City," the man answered.

"He said he was selling lace curtains, rugs and wash wringers," interrupted one of the housewives approached by Milligan, "but all he carried was a pencil, notebook and a huge knife. He flourished the knife."

Milligan was taken to headquarters, where he was questioned by U. G. Snyder, captain of police.

"What were you doing with that big knife you were flourishing before those women?" demanded Captain Snyder.

His "Manicure Set."

"Sir," replied Milligan with dignity, "that knife is my manicure set. I was 'paring' my nails so as to present a neat appearance." And, reaching into the pocket of his tattered trousers, he dragged forth a tiny penknife, gold handled and very dull of blade.

"A salesman, sir," he continued reproachfully, "has to look his best every moment. Otherwise he will be a failure in his profession."

"Well," commented Captain Snyder, "you had better practice your profession in some other place than Kansas City, Kan. Get out of this city."

"Very well, sir," Milligan acquiesced. "kindly return my knife so that I may keep my nails well trimmed."

And, pocketing his beloved knife, he stalked majestically from the room.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Aug. 7, 1920, p. 4.