Czolgosz Is Rapidly Breaking Down and Appears to Be a Physical
and Mental Wreck—Refuses to Talk

PRISONER TALKS TO COURIER REPORTER ABOUT HIS
CRIME AND EXPRESSES NO REGRET
——
He Says He Has Enough to Eat, but Makes the Statement That He Does Not Feel Just Right.
——
Czolgosz Will Say Nothing about the Italian Who Preceded Him in the Line at the Reception.
——
He Sleeps a Great Deal of the Time on the Bench of His Cell and Is Being Closely Guarded.
——
Police Say That His Nerve Is Giving Way and That He Will Tell All
He Knows Before Very Long.

     Czolgosz was seen in his cell by a reporter for The Courier yesterday. He has changed perceptibly since the day of his arrest and presents the appearance of a physical wreck. His confinement, the many anxious hours spent in his cell Friday night, while the crowds without were clamoring to lynch him, and the ordeals through which he has passed during the secret examinations by the heads of the Police Department and District Attorney Penney, have tended to break his nerve and it is thought it will not be many hours before he will recite all of the details without any attempt to shield anyone.

HE WAS ASLEEP.

     When the reporter, with a guard, entered the cell room yesterday, Czolgosz was asleep on a plank in one side of his narrow, iron-barred room.
     The guard awakened him without opening the cell door. Czolgosz turned slowly upon his side and gazed curiously at the reporter, but made no attempt to rise.
     “Why don’t you get up?” asked the guard. “Are you tired?”
     “Yes,” responded the prisoner, but nevertheless he dropped his feet to the floor of his cell and stood upright. With one arm supporting him he leaned against the barred door and gazed out at the two visitors. To the questions which were put to him he gave short, quick answers, or failed to respond at all. He seemed to be tired in body and mind and had no desire to talk.
     “Do you know that the President will live?” asked the reporter.

MADE NO REPLY.

     The prisoner slightly closed his eyes, and then opening them wide, gazed steadily between the iron bars at the cement-lined walls beyond, but made no reply to the query.
     “Yes, I have enough to eat,” said the young man in answer to a question concerning his daily fare, “but I don’t want to eat any more. I don’t feel just right,” and he passed his hand slowly across his forehead.
     Later he said that he “would like to be out again,” but expressed no regret at his crime.

ABOUT THE ITALIAN.

     “Did you and the Italian, who was the last to shake hands with the President, come to Buffalo together?” was asked.
     Again he was dumb.
     “Have you told the police who he is?”
     This time Czolgosz looked intently at the visitor and after studying a moment, he said, very determinedly, and [sic] though each word had been weighed:
     “The police appear to know more about this than I do. Very well; let them go ahead. They have me, they know I tried to kill McKinley. Yes, I have told them all that, but now they want me to tell them more. Let them be satisfied with me.”
     “But they want to find those who forced you to shoot the President.”
     “No one forced me,” he said quick as a flash, and rising to his full height. “I shot him because I wanted to. But I won’t say any more,” and as he was turning to leave, he was asked:

SAME FOR OTHERS.

     “You know there will be another President if McKinley dies?”
     “Yes,” he said, as he turned again to talk with the inquirer, “but there will be the same medicine for all of them. This form of government is wrong. All men should be equal, no better than the other. And it will be that way. I have offered my life to the cause and I guess there are others who are just as willing.”
     Here the interview was ended. The prisoner seemed so over positive that he had no accomplices, the suspicion points to an indication that he did have accomplices.

FAIRLY GOOD LOOKING.

     Czolgosz is a much better looking young man that the Bertillon pictures show him to be. He has a sparkling, light blue eye, with a clear and intelligent look. His features are clean cut, and his hair carefully combed, although yesterday he was badly in need of a shave and his linen was soiled.
     He had the appearance of one who, while not particularly proud of what he had done, was satisfied with his act. He expressed not the slightest contrition, and while he did not say that he was sorry that he had not killed the President, he expressed no hope that he would die.