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FAIRBORN'S MARKET TERRORIZED BY THUD.Frightened Butcher Takes Refuge in Ice Box.Drunken Man With Loaded Pistol Threatens Bloody Deeds.John A. Stoughton, 56 years old, claiming to live In London street, while in a drunken frenzy this morning entered Fairburn’s market in MerrUnack square about 7 o’clock, and stampeded all of the clerks there, shoving right up to their faces a loaded six-shooter.| Business was just opening up for the day when the stranger entered, saving lie wanted a car to Red Village. He was palpably under the influence of bug Juice and it wasn’t long before he asked Arthur Greenwood, one of the clerks, if he couldn’t lie down and have a snooze. He was told that bunks were not let in that meat market, whereupon he began to deliver himself of a lot of “language.” “Liar’’ was an easy word for him to part with and to• all of the attaches of the place hlt;* gave a frank statement of facts, embellishing them with occasional thuds with a cleaver and passes with a long bladed i trimming knife.“Where is the car that goes to Atherton?” he asked of Albert Barlow.It's just gone,” said Barlow timidly.You’re a liar,” he shouted out and ; then made a quick motion for his hip i pocket.- I Out came a six-shooter and right | under the nose of Thomas lt;’ook it was placed. Cook had backed up to the refrigerator under the stress of circumstances. and when he smelled of the cold metal and then saw the fiery gleam in Stoughton’s eye in* decided that nn Ice chest was just the right place to keep him from getting over heated.“I am a bad man from Bad Man s Cove,” said Stoughton. “and I’ve slaughtered everything hut a butcher.| My aim is unerring and I’d just as lief I puncture you with a half dozen of ' I these lead pellets as to breathe. Get 1 I into the ice box.”(’ook grabbed a couple of lemons and dodged behind a quarter of beef.I while Barlow and Greenwood ran out of the market and down towards Page’s Spa.Then there was an interval of horrl-* ble silence. Cook nestling close to the 1 iced beef and Stoughton sitting down ‘ on the big chopping block, revolver In 1 the air.Meanwhile Barlow and Greenwood were trying to detect a policeman on the street, being careful not to go anywhere near Fairburn’s market. But their luck was bad. and. though tiny wondered just what Cook s condition was, they were too considerate of their families to venture near the market.Cook didn’t dare to shout; all he «ould do was to squeeze the lemonsand to get them so Juicy that If Stoughton made for him he could blind his eyes with the acid. Lemons were his only weapons. Once he tried to steal around mutton quarters, but Stoughton spied him and snarled and muttered: “Be careful, be careful. Iwant to see you refrigerated just like that beef there. Ha-ha-ha!The fiendish laugh of Stoughton, coupled with the glitter of deviltry in his eyes, completely swamped Cook and he began to build a barricade of country sausages, tripe, Roquefort cheese and cabbages. At every move from Stoughton he grabbed for the lemons, until their juice trickled over the quarter of beef and country sausages. He tried to whistle for help, hut couldn't get up a pucker; the lemons made his mouth water. He looked through the window of the refrigerator and 8aw that it was nearly 7.30 and still no sign of a rescuing party on the scene.Finally Stoughton begun to doze off, occasionally starting up, but only to sink deeper into that oblivion begotten by whiskey.At just 7.30 Cook heard the latch of the market door rattle, looked out and saw Wagon officer Chester Ryder stealthily coming up behind Stoughton. The officer was not making any mistakes, was not laying himself open to serious injury. Xoiselessly he glided over I lie sawdust surface. One herculean struggle between officer and Jug” and everything was over.From a rear pocket was taken the six shooter, loaded clear to the muzzle. From various other pockets were extracted four whiskey bottles, all more or less filled with tanglefoot. Stoughton was asleep, but the street sweeper who does duty in Merrimack square thought it necessary to come to the aid of the officer with bis shovel and dust pan.When the cause of it all had been pinioned Cook thought it was time to come out from behind his fort of sausages and cheese. While he wasn t much the worse for wear, nevertheless he did make a bee line for a sink where he could wash off the juice from lemons, his only weapons against a loaded pistol.At the police station Stoughton said he lived in London street. More than that he could not say and he was escorted lo a cell, where he might sleep off his desire to parade as a wild and woolly 'nn. It is thought he is a night watchman in some factory, that fact accounting for the presence of the loaded revolver.
Newspaper Details
Lowell Daily Courier
Lowell, Massachusetts, US
Tue, Feb 02, 1904
Page 1
Full Page
Clipped by
Pete M.
USA 25 Jan 2025
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