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When I was in charge of the Treasury I had an understanding with Colonel Whiteley, the Chief of the Secret Service that I should have an interview with any expert professional criminals who might fall into his hands. I recall an interview with one such criminal. A man of forty years and a gentleman in appearance, and a professional gentleman, as well as a criminal by profession.
First Officer William T. Murdock was in charge of the bridge The first intimation of the presence of the iceberg that he received was from the lookout in the crow's nest. Three warnings were transmitted from the crow's nest of the Titanic to the officer on the doomed steamship's bridge 15 minutes before she struck, according to Thomas Whiteley, a first saloon steward.
Mr Brandram gave Borrow two letters of introduction, one to John Wilby, a merchant at Lisbon, and the other to the British Chaplain, the Rev. E. Whiteley. Having explained to Mr Whiteley how Borrow had recently been eventually going to employed in St Petersburg in editing the Manchu New Testament, he wrote:
It was a large, square, solid brick structure, set among oaks and sinister pines, once the home, or perhaps the mansion, of Banker Whiteley, but unoccupied for years. Leaves rotted before the deserted carriage-shed. The disregarded steps in front were seamed with shallow pools of water for days after a rain.
She spoke in emotionless, even tones, even when she told how six men had burst into the kitchen. "Could you recognise any of them?" said Major Whiteley. "I could not. They wore masks, and had hay tied over their clothes." She told about her mother's defiance, about the scuffle, about the firing of the shot. Then she stopped short.
Ukridge, having induced himself to be broad-minded for five minutes, now began to slip back to his own personal point of view and became once more the man with a grievance. His fleeting sympathy with the wrongs of Mr. Harrod and Mr. Whiteley disappeared. "What it all amounts to," he said complainingly, "is that they're infernally unreasonable. I've done everything possible to meet them.
She ought to be here in a few minutes, and then you'll see if she's afraid." Ten minutes later Mary Drennan was shown into the room by the police-sergeant. The two men who were waiting for her received her kindly. "Sit down, Miss Drennan!" said Major Whiteley. "I'm very sorry to trouble you, and I'm very sorry to have to ask you to speak about a matter which must be painful to you.
It was as if he was trying to convey some message to her, to make her understand something which he dared not say. She looked at him steadily. Her face had been white before. Now colour, like a blush, covered her cheeks. Chalmers leaned forward eagerly, waiting for her to speak or give some sign. Major Whiteley tapped his fingers nervously on the table before him.
I forget what happened to "The Whiteley of Crime." After him I still rather hanker he was a humorous ruffian. Something could be made of "The Whiteley of Crime." Something has been made, by the author of "Sherlock Holmes." In yet another romance, a gentleman takes his friend, in a country place, to see his betrothed.
"And restful," added Jean. "I think a gymnasium should be restful, above all things," agreed Helen. "Most of them are so bare and strenuous-looking they give one a headache." She spied a Whiteley exerciser fastened against the wall, the one bit of gymnastic apparatus in the room. 'Oh, the puller! she cried. "I mustn't forget the puller!"
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