Arthur Conan Doyle could not have conceived a more fantastic story than that of the Lindbergh kidnapping. In spite of his convincing style, few would have believed that a criminal, regardless of his genius, could from a prison cell manoeuver a kidnapping so that, as the hero of the rescue, he might secure his freedom. The most recent developments of the Lindbergh case put such a story well within the realms of possibility.

If Al Capone should prove to have been connected with the kidnapping of the baby, or if he should prove able to find him, the case will be without parallel in history. But though this is the most curious aspect of the situation, it is by no means the most important. The possibility that Capone should have arranged such a colossal and ingenious scheme and the probability, made clearer since the appeal to Bitz and Spitale, that special concessions and even release will be given Capone, are powerful challenges to complacent Americanism. They are indictments of the government of the United States which carry with them a threatening prophecy.

It is too obvious that the government in itself is powerless. Indeed, the only effectual resource of the state for solving crimes is to ally itself with criminals, and never before has that alliance been so shameless. That the American people, moreover, should be willing and even eager to harbor and canonize one kidnapper because he will help them catch another, shows the government is no more than an expression of the popular ideal. When criminals take crime into their own hands there is nothing remarkable, but when outlaws get control of law, and both government and people subscribe, there can be no such thing as justice.