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     IF when Czolgosz passed behind the doors of the police headquarters at Buffalo it could have been possible then and there to have obliterated his presence from the face of the earth, to have permitted no word of his mouth to find its way into the public press, to have allowed no likeness of his face to be produced and to have made even the last resting place of his remains a mystery, as was the case with the crazy actor who made the most tragic exit in history thirty-six years ago in Ford’s theatre [sic] at Washington, a long step would have been taken in the solution of a serious problem.