Mrs. Catherine O'Brien, sixtyish, has been a good Catholic all her life. One day last week she was making the beds in a room at the New York Athletic Club, where she has worked for 40 years, when two frozen-faced young men came softly in behind her and demanded her keys. They wanted to get in Room No. 1903, across the hall, they whispered. When Mrs. O'Brien asked why, one of the soft-snarling men stuck a revolver against her apron. Mrs. O'Brien put her hand in her apron pocket where she kept her key ring —and a crucifix. She clutched the...
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