Foiled By Mr. Bailey 



1 ' ■ }*2z<MjiZi- 



He and His Friend Arrive Just in 

 , Time to Save Couple Who Were 

 Held at Point of Revolver 



If the socalled bobbed haired bandit 

 of Brooklyn, had not' been captured of 

 late, Whitman Bailey, the artist, and a 

 friend of his from New Bedford, 

 Mass., had clear visions of meeting her 

 last-Saturday night. Both Mr. Bailey 

 and his friend were coming to New, 

 Canaan from North Stamford at about j 

 half past ten that evening, when the j 

 automobile lights flashed down upon a | 

 young girl standing in the middle of i 

 the road and waving- in frantic effort 

 to stop the car. As the machine slow- 

 ed down she made a mad dash for the 

 running board, .and throwing lierself 

 headlong into the car she said, "I am 

 being robbed, please save me! They 

 -have a- friend of mine in the 'Woods 

 and have him tied!" Mr. Bailey think- 

 ing that it was' a robbery about to be 

 planned on himself started the car at 

 full speed and just at that instant a 

 man jumped on , the running board, 

 trembling in fear and said he had just 

 escaped the highwayman. 



It was was found out afterwards 

 that the fellow and girl were friends, 

 and had come to enjoy the moonlight, 

 as it sparkled on the Stamford reser- 

 voir, along with the other companions. 

 They had come themselves in a car, 

 and had it parked on a side road. Both 

 couples started on a walk when they 

 came on two men who pulled revolvers 

 threatening to shoot. At the instant 

 excitement prevailed, and everyone 

 made a dash for the road. One poor 

 chap had the misfortune to be caught, 

 and no knowing what the result would 

 have been if Mr. Bailey and his com- 

 panion had not come speeding by. at, 

 just that moment. The robbers on 

 seeing the large touring car stop were 

 evidently frightened away and let their 

 poor victim go. .. Mr. Bailey took the 

 frightened strangers in to ' Springdale 



| where he reported the- holdup to , the 



I police. 



