The Evening Times

FOUGHT A DUEL WITH AXES
A Bloody Affray Between Italians in New York City.

NEW YORK, Oct. 2.-Two men engaged in a duel to the death last night at 175th Street and Eleventh Avenue with sharp axes. One of them was found with his head cut almost to pieces. He was conscious in spite of his wounds, while by his side were the weapons with which the awful fight was waged. The other man had gone. For twenty feet the police traced him by drops of blood, and then all signs of him ended.

The one, beaten in the duel is dying in the J. Hood Wright Hospital. There are twenty-two ax cuts in his head. Many of them reached the brain and some of them are the exact length of the ax blade. Yet the man lived and breathed and spoke. He called loudly for something to drink, and cursed the doctors who asked him who cut him. It is believed that he is Louis Feuo an Italian, thirty-five years old.

The daughter of former Assemblyman Miller, who lives at 173d Street and Audubon Avenue, heard loud groans coming from a vacant lot near the house at a quarter past 7 o'clock last night. She told her father, and he took a lantern and began a search. He was joined by Policeman George Bobell, and after a long hunt they heard a faint sound in a clump of bushes.

There they found the man, and the evidences of a fearful fight. The bushes had been beaten down in the struggle, the ground was cut with ax blows that had missed their mark, and it was trodden by the feet of the struggling men. A lantern flashed in the eyes of the loser of the fight. "What's the matter?" asked the policeman, horrified. "Go to the devil," said the man, "I'm cut." After examining the battleground, Miller and Bobell decided that there had been a duel, and that the winner had gone away, wounded

An ambulance came from the J. Hood Wright Hospital, Dr. Adams, the surgeon, was nearly sickened by the sight.

The dying man lay in the hospital, sullen but plucky. He had his senses, despite his wounds. He declined to answer any questions. All he would say was that he wanted some beer. He had been drinking the doctor said There were papers in his pocket that made them think his name was Louis Feuo.

In the meantime the police had decided that two Italians, quarreling in their cups, had gone out to see who was the better man. One of their weapons was a carpenter's ax. That was the one with which Feuo was chopped. The other was smaller, a lather's ax, and it was with that, doubtless, that Feuo fought.

There is an Italian colony at One Hundred and Seventy-fifth Street and Eleventh Avenue, and there the police looked for clews. They were joined by a vigilance committee of citizens, who scoured the neighborhood for news of a wounded man.

The hospital doctors marveled at the tenacity with which Feuo clung to life. A coroner was sent for to take his ante-mortem statement, but the police did not think he would reveal anything before he died, as he had fought according to the rules of his class, who rarely inform upon an enemy with whom they fight a duel.