Burke's discovery was made in a curious way. A red-headed Mexican parrot, owned by Mrs. Margaret Finsted, who lives at 44G Riverside avenue, escaped from its perch on the Filisted porch and disappeared in the forest. The parrot was sought until after dark by Theodore Finsted, son of its owner, and nearly all the members of his school class, without avail. Finsted had heard the bird squawking.
Shrieks of Anguish.
Patrolman Burke on a motorcycle cruising through dense timber in search for the band said to be snaring birds, was attracted by shrieks of apparent anguish about 100 feet from the path he was traversing. He shouted several times in hope that an answering voice would give him the location of the trouble, but received no response and was about to resume his way when there proceeded from the woods a volley of oaths, intermingled with screams such as might have been uttered by a woman in the woods. Burke said, were delivered in a hoarse voice—apparently that of a man enraged.
Plunging into the undergrowth with drawn revolver, Burke made his way in the direction of the sounds, calling at intervals, but again finding no response, until when in the densest part of the thicket he was startled by a series of raucous screams coming from directly overhead.
"Police! Police! There's hell to pay—hell to pay—hell, hell!" howled the nice from a heavily fenced man, Mike Sweeney, pursued the invisible one, repeating the latter repeatedly.  Mark several times.
Parrot Glued Fast. 