MARKS CALLED A BLUFF. ~ Invaded an Italian Saloon Where He Had Been Threatened.

June 21, 1909

Invaded an Italian Saloon Where
He Had Been Threatened.

A few nights ago a carpenter, a citizen of Armourdale, Kas., strayed into an Italian saloon in West Fifth street. While there, he said he overheard the bartender and others talking of Commissioner Thomas R. Marks. Dire threats, even to cutting the commissioner's throat, or decapitating him, he claims, were made.

Believing he would do a service in warning the police of what he he heard, the carpenter went to police headquarters and told his story. While he was telling it, Mr. Marks came in and was called to hear what was said to be in store for him.

Suddenly Mr. Marks left the station. He knew the location of the saloon where the threats were said to have been made, and he went there.

"My name is Thomas R. Marks, one of the police commissioners of Kansas City," witnesses report him as saying. "I hear that someone over here is going to cut my throat or cut my head off before I reach the city hall tomorrow. Here I am and you may as well begin now."

Mr. Marks was so mad that for once he is reported to have used adjectives not in the dictionary.

"Notta me," said the man behind the bar. "Me say notta da word bout you, Mr. Commisinia de Marka. You doa one granda work. Me tink you one granda da man, good as Garibaldi or Georga de Wash. You come one wrong place; we all for Mr. Commisha de Marka."

About this time a customer arrived in the saloon, and, not knowing was was on, ordered a glass of beer. The man behind the bar, still lauding Mr. Marks, turned to draw the beer.

"Don't you turn your back on me, you stiletto-sticking, black-handed rascal," ordered the police commissioner.

The frightened Italian wheeled about with more profuse apologies, saying Mr. Marks was a greater man than "Mayor de Crit or Presidenta da Taffa."

After satisfying himself that all within his hearing had been thoroughly subdued and that no more threats would come from such a source, Mr. Marks strode from the trembling bunch of dark-eyed foreigners and went back to police headquarters. His venture was regarded as foolhardy by the police, none of whom he asked to accompany him. The police say, however, that the proprietor of that saloon now cannot have too much praise for "Mr. Commisha de Marka."