This mental disease makes a man a monomaniac. He is perfectly sane, except upon one subject, which controls him and pushes him forward, even in some cases, to murder.

In telling of his crime, there was nothing defiant about Schrank. He displayed no bravado. He told everything in a frank tone of voice--too frank, almost, as it raised the suspicion that probably Schrank was not a mad man.

There is nothing about him that would cause any pa.s.ser-by to glance at Schrank twice. And his face is the most uninteresting part of him.

His face is fat and round--moon-shaped. His eyes are placed wide apart, but this effect is lost through ptosis, a species of paralysis of the eyelids, which gives the eyes a half closed appearance, and is responsible for the sleepy look in his face. It affects one eye more than the other and is responsible for that squint which has been designated as "a murderous squint" by sensationalists.

His nose is rather large and prominent. Continued application of the handkerchief has caused it to turn almost sharply to the left.

His weak mouth finishes off what would otherwise be a fairly good face.

Cover mouth and chin and one will say that he has the strong face of the ordinary American workingman. His lips, for the most part, are closed, but in an irregular line, giving the idea that his jaws are hanging loosely.

Altogether, he is not a repulsive looking man. Merely a weak looking man. Laughs and grins come readily during his conversations.

The only remarkable feature about him is his knowledge of American history and politics. He is able to talk intelligently upon modern political questions, showing that he is a great reader along these lines.

The more one looks at him and studies him, the more one wonders what it is that could have pressed him forward to commit such a deed.

Nothing explains his weak character more than his hesitancy to fire the shot at Chattanooga. He had traveled miles to do it, and at the last minute his courage oozed out. The same thing happened in Chicago. He stood at Hotel La Salle with murder in his heart, but hesitated until it was too late.

And when he struck Milwaukee, he acted just like a boy afraid to coast down a big hill, who, finally impelled by the taunts of his comrades, closes his eyes and starts.

Look down through history and you find that the most atrocious crimes were committed by weak persons of the same caliber as John Flammang Schrank.

CHAPTER XII.

SCHRANK BEFORE CHIEF.

John Flammang Schrank was taken to the central police station, Milwaukee, immediately upon his arrest in front of the Hotel Gilpatrick. Under direction of Chief John T. Janssen, of the Milwaukee police department, the following examination of Schrank was conducted:

Chief. What is your name?

A. Do I have to tell that tonight, sir?

Q. Yes.

A. I have to?

Q. Yes.

A. I have given the man below the promise I will do that tomorrow, tell him all I know.

Q. Well, there is no reason for you to do that tomorrow, if you do it this evening it will facilitate matters.

A. I suppose I will inconvenience someone by not telling.

Q. Yes, you are helping a good deal by telling.

A. Well, I come from New York.

Q. What is your name?

A. John Schrank.

Q. When did you come here from New York?

A. I left New York on the twenty-first of September and I left for Charleston and I left my grip there in the Hotel Mosely; from Charleston to Augusta and from there to Atlanta and from Atlanta I think to Birmingham and over to Chattanooga, and from Chattanooga I went to Nashville and then to Evansville, and then to Louisville, and then to Chicago, and from Chicago here, and I arrived here Sunday at one o"clock.

Q. Why did you go to all those places?

A. Because I wanted to meet that man.

Q. What man?

A. Theodore Roosevelt.

Q. How long have you lived in New York?

A. About twenty-five years.

Q. What is your business?

A. Well, I am not doing anything now, I have been in the liquor business.

Q. Where?

A. In New York.

Q. What place?

A. Tenth street.

Q. Give us the number please?

A. Three hundred seventy, East Tenth street, between avenues B and C; I have been with my uncle; my uncle"s name is Flammang.

Q. Are you a married man?

A. No, sir.

Q. How long have you been in the liquor business?

A. Well, ever since I was a boy. My folks were in business the time I come over here and I was twelve years old then.

Q. How old are you now?

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