The New Orleans Daily Democrat

HARASSED HUNT

He Declines to Talk, But Talks Anyhow

Last evening a reporter called at the Parish Prison for the purpose of interviewing the Evansville fugitive, E. Winchester Hunt alias Jas. Walker. The accused entered the ante-room, and, being in the presence of the reporter, he drew himself up to his full height, and after seeing the reporter, he said: "If you have come down here to get a statement you have come to the wrong man." Hunt, like Hartnett, the burglar, to use the prisoner's expressions, was a thoroughbred, and he would "not tumble; he had been there before and he was no slouch," and like men who are familiar with crime, won't give anything away. The reporter was fully aware of the peculiarities of the man he had to deal with, and knew that if he kept quiet Hunt would give himself away before he would be aware of what he was doing.

Hunt—I don't know whether you are a reporter or a detective, and that is why I don't want to make a statement.

The detectives put one job up on me, but I did not bite: their bait was bad. Why, do you know the sort of a racket they gave me? Why they wrote a letter, directed it to me, put it in the postoffice and then waited for me to come and get it out, but I did not come. That letter would have been there until now before I would have been green enough to have gone after it. But they got me anyhow, and I suppose it is all right.

The papers here seem to have gotten my case all mixed up. Why, at the farthest, that little trick of mine will not amount to over $600, and I see some of the papers run it up to $7000. I could tell something about that firm of Miller Bros., but I won't. If I told it they might give me a rub when I came to trial.

Here the accused stopped, but in a few moments began again, saying: I don't think they want me back home as bad as they make out. They could have arrested me in Evansville before I left there. Why, Chief of Police Klein was one of the parties who run me out of the town.

I would not care for all this, but my old mother is living in Evansville, and I expect it will go hard with her; but things may be all right yet. The senior partner of that firm, Mr. Conrad Miller, will be in this city on Monday, and he may fix up things. I want to go back home as soon as possible. I am tired of this jail.

I tell you, reporter, you say that the statements made by my prosecutors are correct, and I guess you will be correct. No, I guess you had better not say that. You fellows have got your foot on my neck, and sort of crowd a man when he is down.

Here the conversation ended, and the reporter turned from the presence of the man, who, from his appearance, seemed capable of dabbling in any crime, regardless of its enormity.