Boys

Down in flames amid a thunder of exploding bullets came Springfield, Ill.'s huge, old National Guard Armory last month. Only clue to the $750,000 fire's origin was a small boy in leather jacket and tweed cap who that morning had reported to the custodian a small blaze in the armory's washroom.

Last week in a Springfield schoolroom officers found the boy. His name was Cecil Kiper and he was ten years old. Sullen with fright, he denied knowing anything about the fire until taken before Governor Horner, who used to be a juvenile court judge. There Cecil Kiper told how he had filled a bag with shavings, weighted it with solder, lighted it, thrown it on the armory stage.

"Why?" asked Governor Horner.

"I like to see burning buildings," said Cecil Kiper.

In St. Louis fortnight ago Mrs. Charles Fricke watched without concern her son Gustavo, 15, crawl into the family living room on hands & knees. He often played that way on the floor with his small brother Eddie. Gustave lay on the couch for a while, complained that his stomach was hurting, crawled off to bed. Next morning at schooltime he stayed in bed. About noon he crawled downstairs, changed his clothes. His father, home for lunch, noticed that his son was pale and glassy-eyed.

At a hospital that afternoon, just before he died, Gustave Fricke told what had happened. At school on Friday he had received a suspension notice, for truancy and general misbehavior. The notice ordered him to appear at the Superintendent's office Monday morning with his parents. Sunday evening Gustave got his father's revolver, went out to the garage, shot himself through the stomach.

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