A WOMAN DETECTIVE.

Milwaukee Sentinel.

      "I have been a detective for eight years," said Mrs. McDonald, yesterday. Mrs. McDonald has lived here since last September, pursuing her odd vocation. In ordinary conversation — that is when not engaged in working a case — she is a chatty little woman and an entertaining talker. She has a comely face and big, black eyes, heavily shaded, that seem to look through one, but from her appearance would not be picked out as one whose chief occupation is to unravel clews that lead to the exposure of crime.

      "Yes," she said, "it is a queer business for one of my sex to be engaged in, and I know of but few women who would care to pursue it, but I take an intense interest in the experiences which fall to my lot and wouldn't give it up for any other occupation mat might prove far more remunerative. I have traced false clews and followed out wrong conclusions, as well as successfully ferreted out what seemed impenetrable mysteries, and this work has taken me to almost every part of the United Status, though I have worked chiefly in the Southern States. You see the cases confided to a female detective are those in which wealthy people are concerned and which they want to have quietly fathomed to prevent scandals."

ELOPEMENTS A SPECIALTY.

      "You mean elopements and scandals of that sort — wayward girls and giddy young wives?"

      "You have guessed it. Few people have an idea how much of this sort of thing is going on. And it is surprising, too, how many cases of May and December there are — young girls eloping with baldheads old enough to be their grandfathers."

      "How do you account for it?"

      "Money. Did you ever know of any young woman running away with an elderly man — or marrying him at home when there was no occasion to run away — unless his pockets were lined with gold? The promise of fine dresses and a life of ease and luxury will tempt a young girl nearly every time. It seems to be a weakness of our sex to yield to this allurement A few months ago I traced a couple of this description to Wisconsin. The girl was fifteen and the man nearly sixty. They lived in Kentucky — I won't mention the city — and the man was a wealthy and respected citizen. He mortgaged his property heavily, drew out every cent he had in the bank, and one fine evening deserted his family to skip out with this young girl. I traced them for weeks, but finally lost all clews."

      "In such cases, what is the main purpose in getting you to track the fugitives?"

      "To induce the woman to return and — be forgiven. Generally it is harder for me to accomplish this than to find her. Of course the fugitives adopt aliases and try to cover their tracks, but usually there is some little thing or other neglected that enables me to find them. Prevailing on the woman to return is the hard part of the job. First I have to make her acquaintance without letting her know what my purpose is; then I have to win her confidence and work upon her feelings. A female detective must be something of an actress as well, I must tell you, and must have her wits about her. She must be ready, if necessary, to work at all sorts of things. Since coming to Milwaukee I have been a book-agent, a sewing machine canvasser, a sewing girl in a seamstress' establishment, a factory employe, and one day I waited on the table in a hotel to serve a certain purpose I had in view."

WHERE DELICATE WORK IS WANTED.

      "What kind of criminal cases are usually given to a female detective?"

      "Thefts and poisoning cases, where it requires delicate work to penetrate the bottom of a suspected crime. The thefts are usually very unromantic, but crimes of the latter character sometimes result in startling developments. I recall a case that transpired in Detroit. The persons involved moved in the highest society circles of the city. A society belle married a wealthy man much older than herself. After they had lived together, a brother of the husband, considerably younger than himself, returned from an extended trip abroad and took up his residence with them. He was a dashing sort of fellow and the wife, who had married for revenue only, fell in love with him. He also fell in love with her, and they acknowledged it to each other. The peculiar part of the affair is that the wife told the husband just how she felt, and you can imagine that it stirred up the family a good deal. It was finally agreed that they should live in the same house, but as perfect strangers, though when they went out in society they were to act as the most devoted husband and wife would. You see they were way-up people and they wanted to avoid a scandal. This queer arrangement lasted two years, and one morning the husband was found dead in his bed. The doctor's certificate gave heart disease as the cause, but as the widow married her brother-in-law within three weeks, naturally a good many suspicions were aroused. It was impossible to prove any thing, however."

A CONVENIENT EXPEDIENT.

      "Heart disease is often a convenient term in a death certificate, is it not?"

      "That has been my experience. I will tell you something that happened only a few months ago. I was stopping in a certain boarding house where a young couple were among the guests. The husband seemed devoted to his wife but I knew that every thing was not just right between them, because their room was just across the hall from mine, and many little things transpired that came under my notice. The young wife came into my room one evening with tears in her eyes, and told me that her husband never came home before two or three o'clock in the morning, and she didn't know what to make of it. I told her to dry her eyes and stop, worrying — that a good many wives would cry their eyes out if they wanted to worry because their husbands stayed out late nights. A week or so after the husband knocked at my door and asked me to come to see his wife, as he thought she was very sick. I went over across the way, and found the woman in what I supposed to be a hysterical state. I told her husband to go for a doctor, while I watched by her bedside. He went out and returned in about half an hour, saying he had failed to find a physician, but had gone to a drug store to get some medicine. He told me he wouldn't bother me to stay up any longer, and I went back to bed. I dozed a short time, when he again knocked at my door and informed me that he thought his wife was dying. I insisted that he should go out again for a physician, and he went. His wife died before he returned. He was accompanied by a young doctor, whom I knew by reputation, to be not over reputable. Well, to cut the matter short he said she had died of heart disease. I called at his office the next day and said to him: 'You know that that woman died from poisoning when you ascribed her death to heart disease?' He shrugged his shoulders and replied, 'What's the use of making a fuss about it? She and her husband were both strangers in town. Whom would it benefit to stir up a fuss?' Of course, it was none of my business, and so I kept my own mouth shut, but I felt as if the doctor was just as bad as the husband, who ought to have been exposed."

(THE END)