Springfield Globe Republic

began to search for him and he was captured about half past six o'clock, in the rear of his house on North street, by Officers Furniss and Gregory, and locked up in the station house for safe keeping. Here he was interviewed an hour later by a GLOBE-REPUBLIC reporter, but refused absolutely to talk. Just at this time the Chief of Police, with Officers Mills and Woods, took him up stairs and had a talk with him. To them he denied all knowledge of the crime and said that he didn't even know where the carriage shop was. He said that his wife worked at the American House, and he had slept there all night, getting up at half past four in the morning as usual to make the fire for her. However, the clock was twenty minutes too fast, and he had left her to go home and change his clothes, after which he had gone to the Arcade for breakfast, and returned to his house on North street, where the officers caught him. The officers next interviewed his wife, who stated that he had gotten up, built the fire and left, stating that he would go home to change his clothes and go to the Arcade, where he had an appointment with a friend. She stated that he returned to the American House and told her of his re-encounter with the officers at the corner of Fisher and Columbia, and said that he was badly frightened.

Slater came here about two and a half or three years ago from Cincinnati, where he worked at a second-hand store on the corner of Fifth and Walnut streets, where plated silver was auctioned off. He is a slender man about 28 years old, and is lame in the right leg. He is black as coal, and his protruding eyes and aquiline nose give his face a fierce expression. Last summer he was married to Mary Spears. He was arrested three weeks ago because about $50 worth of plated silver was in his possession, but as the ownership of the goods could never be proven, he was discharged.

Even should it be shown that Slater was one of the burglars, it would be very difficult to make upon him a case of murder. Mr. Driscoll stated this morning that he had his revolver raised when the bolt of cloth struck him and knocked him down. The next moment the burglars sprang upon him. It is barely possible that the ball came from his own pistol.

George W. Driscoll is a son of James Driscoll, of the James Driscoll & Sons' Carriage Manufactory, and a brother of ex-Councilman John H. Driscoll, Charles Driscoll, and Mrs. Jennie Miller. The family is one of the very highest respectability and standing, well-known to all and eminent for their excellent character and sterling personal qualities. George was born here and as a boy and man has always been highly esteemed. Few young men have been more universally popular. He grew up in the carriage factory of his father and uncle and developed, first, good qualities as a workman, and afterward as a business man. He was exceedingly bright and witty, and was of a very jovial and congenial disposition. He married a sister of Mr. Gwyn, the president of the city board of water works, and a very worthy and attractive lady.

The deceased was a member of Capt. Asa S. Bushnell's company, in the 152d Ohio infantry, and served four months in West Virginia and old Virginia in the summer of 1864. He was also with the regiment when it went on its famous raid, with Gen. Hunter, to Lynchburg. He was a faithful soldier and a pleasant companion, and was sincerely esteemed by the entire company.

LATER—DEATH ENSUES.

During the morning the condition of the wounded man seemed to improve. So encouraging were the words of the physicians that Prosecuting Attorney Weaver, who had come with the intention of taking an ante-mortem statement, decided not to do so. However, just about 12 o'clock, he began to sink very rapidly, and passed quietly away in about twenty minutes. His bedside was surrounded in his last moments by his wife and children, his parents, his brother, Charles and wife, his wife's mother, Mrs. Gwyn, and Dr. Falconer. When he began sinking Drs. Dunlap and Miller were sent for, but came a moment after death ensued. Up to the time he began to sink he was perfectly rational and described minutely the terrible incident of the night. Had he been so minded, he could have killed the marauders without running the slightest risk himself. But in order that he might not spill the blood of these miserable wretches he risked and lost his own life. Never in Springfield's history has anything caused such universal sorrow and sympathy as has this sad catastrophe.