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Show LYNCH TSLLS THE STOflY OF THE HOLDING UP OF THE GAMBLING HOUSE. (From The Salt Lake Herald.) James Lynch, the bandit and slayer of George Prouse, talked yesterday about his participation in the hold-up of the Sheep Kaneh gambling house Tuesday morning. He admitted that he fired one shot at the plucky faro dealer, and the utter abandon and indifference in-difference with which the murderer told his story brands him as a most vicious criminal of the lowest order. In a close cell at the county jail Lynch spent the day yesterday suffering suffer-ing only as a slave to opium, deprived j of the drug, can realize. That he is a I "fiend"' was made known yesterday, j and this fact accounts for the frantic state into which lie was thrown Tuesday Tues-day night, at the very moment his victim vic-tim was breathing his last at St. "' s no.pitai. After morphine had been administered adminis-tered to him by an attending physician, Lynch slept until yesterday morning, and during the day was quiet but extremely ex-tremely nervous. Early in the day Jailer Thomas told him of the death of Colonel Prouse. He showed signs of alertness while listening to the words which practically practical-ly accused him of murder, but when the jailer made further efforts to ta'.k with the man and extract some infor- mat inn relating to the much-discussed I tragedy, he affected to be little concerned con-cerned and replied to numerous questions ques-tions in monosvllables. When a reporter for The Herald entered en-tered the narrow confines of his tem-j tem-j pm-ary home in the county jail last night and accosted Lynch with a query as to how he was feeling, the wounded man manifested a momentary interest in the events of which he i.5 at present the central figure, by replying: "Oh. I'm a little bad in the top.' What are they saying?" "Well, it looks prety had for you. You know, of course, that the man you fired at is dead?" was the reply. "Oh, yes: I heard the talk in the corridor cor-ridor this morning. I guess I'm up against it." He then followed, aided by occasional occasion-al suggestions, with a rambling statement state-ment of his wanderings and the part he played in the tragedv, but abso lutely refused to say anything which might give a clue to his confederates. "I am between 'M and 27 years old. and was born in Albany, New York state." he said. "I am a stone cutter by trade. 1 left home eight years ago. From Albany I went to Chicago and worked there at whatever I cou'd find to do for a short time and then came west, where I have knocked about ever since. "Sometimes I worked in mines and I three weeks ago I quit a job in a smelter at Northport. B. C, and headed for Denver. At Brig ham. the other side of Ogden, 1 met the two men who pushed me into the job which landed me here. We all "hoboed it' out of that town and got here Sunday morning. We spent the day along Second South street, drinking in some of the saloons, and "rushing the can' in the alley back of Commercial street. "That night I left my partners and slept in a box car in the Kio Grande Western freight yards. The following morning as I was walking un town I met them again on Second South street." "Oh, I don't know their names. I called one Mizzouri' Joe, and the other Tom. We drank more and I mess I lost my head. We knocked about town j all Monday night and Tuesday morn- I ing I had a gun rhoved into my haii and we went up into the gambling room, and you know the rest." "How many shots did you fire?" he was asked. "Only one," he replied. "And then j I got mine, and I guess I'll get worse." All efforts to elicit further information informa-tion about his accomplices were unavailing. un-availing. He expressed himself as being be-ing not entirely satisfied at the manner man-ner in which they left him to fight the battle out alone, but still seem.n? -:'. ing to take what he thought was due him. without aiding the police in apprehending ap-prehending the others. He delivered his story in a nonchalant non-chalant sort of manner, exhibiting but once any show of feeling, and that when questioned about his parents. "My father has been dead ten years," he stated. "My mother? Oh, she was alive the last time I heard of her. but she'll never hear of this, I hone," and the prisoner rolled over toward the wall and buried his face beneath his arm, after which he refused to talk further. Chief of Police Hilton -says a small quantity of opium was taken from Lynch when he was searched at the , station and believes that the man is a "dope fiend." His inability to secure the drug is in the chief's opinion the reason "for his being thrown into the violent state in which Night Jailer Guldbransen found him on Tuesday-evening. Tuesday-evening. He has taken no nourishment, nourish-ment, other than a cup of coffee, since his confinement and seems utterly indifferent in-different to his fate. |