Mysterious Disappearance With Possible Murder

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE WITH POSSIBLE MURDER

The Student's Bloody Hat Found on the Lawn near Where He Roomed

A Threat Found in His Room--Mexican Secret Society Said to Have Threatened Patterson, a Senior Medical Student, Who Disappears.

A mysterious disappearance with dime novel trimmings is the latest sensation. A bloody hat on the lawn, a mysterious secret society, notes of warning and an absolute disappearance with a letter found in a drawer "to be opened in the case of my death or disappearance," such are some of the accompanying circumstances.

Albert A. Patterson, who so mysteriously disappeared Wednesday, is a senior medical student, of good standing in his classes, quiet and reserved in manner and is termed "a good fellow," although it is said he liked to be alone considerably. He rooms at the house of Deputy Postmaster George Vandawarker, on E. Huron street. 

Yesterday morning when Deputy Postmaster Vandawarker went out to mow his lawn he found upon it a white hat, such as Patterson wore, with a hole in it about an inch long, as if made by some blunt instrument, with hair and blood on it, the blood having trickled down into the band. On the inside of the hat was the word "Patterson."

Mr. Patterson was not to be found in his room. He was engaged to be married to a senior medical student, who roomed at the house of City Engineer Groves, just around the corner on Twelfth street. He studied with her every night and was there as usual Wednesday night, leaving her at a quarter to 12 o'clock.

The bed in his room showed that he had not gone to bed, although the bed clothing was turned back and a pillow moved as if he had started to go to bed.

Morse, a medical student in an adjoining house was awakened between 12 and 1 o'clock by a noise and scuffling on the sidewalk, but did not think it serious enough to get up.

It was Patterson's practice to write a letter or two every night after coming back from visiting his girl and it is thought he may have gone out to mail it.

His fiancee came over to his room and hunting around through his effects found a letter in a drawer on which in Patterson's handwriting on the envelope was "To be opened in case of my death or disappearance." Then, in pencil hastily scrawled on the outside was "May 21, 12:30. Still alive." This will be understood better when the letter is read. The letter enclosed was as follows: 

"I will be the only one to ever read this. So I suppose it is a silly thing to do. No one else will get to enjoy it. It's late and I suppose that has something to do with it. But I sure do feel nervous. When I was in San Antonio in the winter of '97-'98, I met with an experience. I wandered into the Mexican part of town. It's too late to tell it all. Sufficient to say I stumbled onto a meeting of an organization. I was immediately caught, gagged and tied. They went through a lot of tommy-rot, but I could see that they were dead in earnest in it all. They made me swear to a lot of things. I thought it was a sort of lark. Then they led me out through a long tunnel, blind-folded, and took me across the river then. I was leary of every going back there to look for the place and I never saw any of those present again. I came north, enlisted and went to war, was discharged and have been here in school ever since and have never heard anything. Had almost forgotten it until I got a note some time since warning me that I had forfeited my life and it would be taken. Rats! I am ashamed to write this even for myself to read, but someway I can't shake myself free of a sort of dread. I got another note and then this last one, which I all but threw away. It don't seem possible that anything could come of it but well, something of the old dread of  that night in Texas is on me and may be this will free me of it. So if I am found dead or missing our old friend Maximo has fixed it. This dreaded thing has made me feel more nervous than I did before. Sounds so posthumous. Wonder how a thin knife feels in the back. Maybe Maximo wants me to cough up again. He is not a Mexican and so more fanatic than they are. Well, peace to my ashes.

"May 19, 1903.

"ALBERT A. PATTERSON."

Enclosed was a brown slip of paper, Manila wrapping paper, with only the words:

          III

          By May 20

          MAXIMO.

It is supposed that Patterson's note, "May 21, 12:30. Still alive," on the outside of the envelope meant that May 20 had passed and nothing had happened.

Patterson had told his fiancee, about three weeks ago, of receiving the first notice from a Texts secret society he had been forced to join. She worried over it and he afterwards told her there was nothing in it, that he was just jollying her. In light of present events, she seems inclined to believe that he said this simply to relieve her from worry.

The officers were notified and Deputy Sheriff Fred Gillen went to work on the case. No trace of Patterson has yet been found, not anyone who saw him after he left his girl that night.

Patterson got a check for $100 which he cashed Wednesday.

Both Patterson and his fiancee were to have graduated from the medical department next month and they were planning to be married on Commencement day.

It is reported that a Greencastle, Ind., girl to whom Patterson was formerly engaged, was writing him almost daily letters.

Patterson was from Greencastle, Ind. He was about 30 years of age and those who know him say that he is not the man who would attempt to create any sensation. He was a Phi Kappa Psi of Purdue University.