She Fought a Sailor in the Dark—and Helped Police Find Him by Morning

Mrs. Mary Kriser, an elderly woman who ran the New York lodging house at the corner of South Second and Weller streets, over the old Industrial Army barracks, reported to police yesterday morning that she had been robbed and criminally assaulted by a man who escaped from the house. She gave a description of her assailant and the money taken, and within an hour and a half Sergeant Templeton had arrested R. C. Aiken, a sailor, who was positively identified by Mrs. Kriser as her assailant. The shock of the outrage completely unnerved her, and it was with considerable difficulty that she related her experiences yesterday afternoon to a Post-Intelligencer reporter. Mrs. Kriser had lived in Seattle seven years. Before taking charge of the New York house she ran the Union and Overland houses on Weller street. Her story was as follows: 'About 1 o'clock yesterday morning a small, heavy-set man rented room 12 from me for the night. After he had paid me 25 cents I lighted the lamp. Suddenly he stepped to the door and put down the latch, thus locking us both in the room. He then put out the light, and, rushing at me, threw his arms around me and attempted to throw me backward upon the bed. I resisted with all my might, and for a short time had a lively scuffle with him. I called for help and told the man to release me, but he paid no attention. The racket awoke William James, who occupies the adjoining room, and he came to the scene. Finding the door locked, he called to let him in. The man replied that he would knock the lights out of the brat who showed up. I still continued to struggle and cried: He's killing me. James smashed down the door and jumped into the room. As he did so my assailant released me and rushing at James struck at him, but missed. Mr. James then threw the man back into the room and allowed me to escape to my room, thinking the trouble was all over; he retired, as I had done. The house was quiet for some time and the new roomer made no demonstrations. Suddenly, however, I was awakened by some one kicking at the door of the kitchen, which opens into my bedroom. I called out: Who is there? and a man called back: I want to get in. Go away from that door, I yelled. I won't, replied the man; I'll beat the door in if you don't open it. I then threw on my wrapper and opened the door to see what the man wanted. As soon as I did so my former assailant crowded himself into the room, locked the door, and grabbing me in his arms threw me down. I tried to yell, but the man choked me with one hand and held my mouth with the other. I then made a last effort and got away from him and rushed toward the door crying for help. The man was close after me and his hands were on my throat just as he heard some one in the hall. He choked me until my tongue ran out of my mouth, and hissed in my ear: If you make a noise or cry for help you will never see the light of day. I could not have made any outcry, because the brute's fingers were fast around my neck, and I felt my strength failing. He dragged me to a chair and assaulted me. Thinking I was insensible, he took my pocketbook containing $5.20 out of my wrapper pocket and left the room. As soon as I recovered a little strength I went into the hall and found that the man was dressing himself in his room. I demanded my money back, but he brutally refused, and told me that he would give it to me when he got through with me. He brushed past me and made his escape from the house. I followed him until he disappeared in the alley that runs along the side of Hill's maple syrup factory on the opposite side of the street.' The case was reported to police and a good description given. About an hour and a half later Sergeant Templeton found a man whom he suspected at the bar in Tommy Jones' saloon on King street. Officer Thom took the man to the New York house, where he was identified by both Mrs. Kriser and James. At police headquarters he gave his name as R. C. Aiken and his occupation as a sailor.