SHOT AT BY A WOMAN.
JIM DALY, THE PUGILIST, HAD RATHER A CLOSE CALL LAST NIGHT.
SHE FIRED TWICE AT THE BIG FELLOW
But Her Aim Was Bad and the Bullets Flew Wide of the Mark—Then Jim Seized the Woman, Bundled Her Off in a Hack to Broad-street Station and Sent Her Home to Brooklyn—Certain Letters From Another Woman Found in Jim’s Pocket are Said to Have Caused the Unpleasantness.
Two pistol shots in quick succession rang out shortly after eight o’clock last night on Sansom street, above Eight, and a few seconds later a hack that had been standing at the stage entrance of the Central Theatre drove rapidly away. Jim Daly, the pugilist, had been shot at twice by a tall woman veiled and wearing a sealskin coat.
Daly was on his way to the theatre to box his round as usual with Jim Corbett, with whose combination he is connected. As he reached the door leading to the stage the woman jumped from the carriage and succeeded in discharging her weapon-a thirty-two calibre revolver-twice at Daly before he caught her arm and twisted it from her grasp.
Neither of the bullets took effect.
A number of men attracted by the noise of the reports ran to the scene of the shooting, and were in time to see Daly say something to the woman as he hurried her into the hack, and then say a word to the driver. The hack rapidly disappeared up Sansom street, and Daly slipped into the passageway. He was pale and somewhat excited when he reached his dressing-room and told Jim Corbett of the shooting. Daly, when questioned, denied at first that there had been any trouble, but finally acknowledged that the woman had shot at him, but said that it was of no importance.
Her name, he said, is Sadie Kenna, and she belongs to a highly respectable family of Brooklyn. She saw him spar at the People’s Theatre in New York, and wrote for his photograph, which he sent. She had since followed him about, and came to this city to see him. Several of the attaches of the Central say that a hansomely [sic] dressed woman came to the front entrance early in the evening and said she must see Daly, and when told that he had not yet arrived drove away id [sic] a hack. Daly admitted that he had corresponded with the woman, but said that her act was an entire surprise to him.
A friend of the pugilist’s, who would not give his name through awe of Daly’s fists, said last night that there was more in the shooting than Daly stated, and that the cause of the trouble was a letter which the Brooklyn girl found in Daly’s overcoat pocket. This letter was from another woman, and from its tenor Miss Kenna was led to believe that she was not alone in the possession of the stalwart James’ affections.
The revolver was picked up shortly after the shooting by a boy and taken to Daly, who, however, denied all knowledge of it. When asked where the woman drove to, the pugilist replied: “To the Broad-street station to take a train, and that’s all I have to say.”
Perhaps that’s enough.