In Elmira

Evening. In the tabernacle-tent of the evangelist, every yellow chair and all the sawdust aisles were filled. Six weeks had he labored for this hour. Half the town (Elmira, N. Y.), as they sang hymns of salvation, saw their sins stand horrible and naked before them. The evangelist leapt to the rostrum, proclaimed his text: "THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH." Finally, said he: "No person in whose heart reposes guilty knowledge need expect to make peace with God until full confession is first made." Dawn. In police headquarters, a night captain leaned drowsily over his desk. He felt chill dawn creep through an open door. A solitary woman came toward him. She was on the graveward side of 50, listless, tearstained, slummocky. When she began to speak, a little hysterical, the captain woke up. She told of a night spent on her knees before an unopened bed, of wrestling with God, of foreseen tortures of Hell, of crimes she must confess. Day. None of the crimes confessed had been committed by the terrified woman. The crimes were robberies from the American Express Co. and the U. S. Parcels Post committed by her friends over a period of several years, which had utterly baffled the police. Thirteen men and one woman were arrested as a result of her confessions. Loot* to the value of $5,000 was recovered, gathered into a large room, and inspected by the evangelist before he left Elmira. The Evangelist. Reverend William A. Sunday is the last of many evangelists whose names have become "household" with the American public. Whitefield (who nearly converted Benjamin Franklin to Evangelical Christianity), Chalmers, Moody, Drummond, were among the best known men of their times. And ten years ago, Billy Sunday, on a lower intellectual plane, was known wherever U. S. vices flourished. His "cleanups" of New York, Chicago, San Francisco, followed in quick succession. Every drawing-room debated whether he did more harm than good. Every Protestant minis ter was forced to come out either "for" or "against" him. He was jeered, knocked, caricatured and people went early to get good seats in his tent.

*The Loot: Women's stockings, 56 pairs; bathing suits, 5; gloves, 8 pairs; camera films, 141 packages; men's shirts, 45; overcoats, 5; shirt-waists, 5; vests, 3; clothes, 2 suits; bath rugs, 3; sweaters, 6; tuxedo suits, 1; men's hose, 1; American flags, 2; lace curtains, 3 pairs; revolver, 1; Winchester rifles, 2; Ithaca shotgun, 1; L. C. Smith shotgun, 1; towels, 1; rubber sheet, 1; scissors, 7; dress goods, 2 pieces; Artlex collars, 11; fur neck pieces, 2; ear syringe, 1; fur gloves, 10 pairs; muffler, 1; victrola needles, 1 box; portfolio, 1; ladies' shoes, 1 pair; dress suit, 1; tuxedo coat, 1; pajamas, 1; Corona typewriter, 1; electric hair cutter, 1; men's arctics, 1 pair; laced rubber boots, 1 pair; men's shoes, 2 pairs; ties, 1; opera glasses, 1; scarf, 1; wool jacket, 1; kodak film packs, 2; pocket knife, 1; pearl pin, 1; pipes, 2; leather bags, 2 (one with letter "M" and one from which letters had been removed); puttees, 1;alarm clocks, 2; cameras, 2.