Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 36, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 June 1925 — Page 12

12

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Chickie (Helena), only daughter of Jonathan and Jennie Bryce, loves Barry Dunne, a young lawyer with Tufts & Lennox. Wealthy Jake Munson, friend of Janina Knowles and' Amy Heaton, tells Chickie he considers Barry's feeling onlv a boy s love and that he will be waiting when Barry has jilted her. I1& Moore's father expects to engage Barry to represent locally the Gulf Steamship Company of San Francisco, and Ila invites him to tour the world with her party. When Chickie accuses him of loving 11a, a quarrel follows and he leaves on the trip. In desperation she telegraphs him when she realizes she must endure the consequences of her love. When Barry tells Chickie he has been married to Ila for two weeks. Chickie takes the name of Mrs. John Clayton, buys herself a wedding ring and goes to the country home of Mrs. Agnes Robbins for a vacation. Dorothy Wrendon, a hotel clerk at Lancaster, agrees to forward Chicktes mail under the assumed name. Chickie becomes the mother of a tiny girl. When she learns that her mother is ill she leaves with the baby in the nurse's absence though bitter* cold. The doctor tells /Chickie the child is dead and promises to have It buried. When Jennie recovers, Jimmie Blake again calls on Chickie. Local papers mention the inquest to be held In the baby’s death, and Jake offers the services of his attorney. Chickie refuses Bip-ry an interview. When Jonahan and Chickie appear before the coroner's jury, Nurse Emily Faris testifies against Chickie. but Dr. Emerson swears death was due to weakness. Cnickie takes the stand. GO ON WITH THE STORY By Ellnore Meherln CHAPTER CXII Jonathan’s Stand r*”'| T the mention of her name, I I the silence parted like a gash —whispers spurted; headp turned; sharp, expectant breaths. Chickie sat motionless, hearing Jonathan’s murmured plea: “Remember, Chickie, girl—brave — proud now—go up ” She tried to smile. Then a hand at her elbow. The iawyer said quietly: “You have nothing to fear. Answer clearly. All this was vague, yet frightening because of a blur that made the warm room and all the faces in it run together. In ihis blur she saw with piercing and cruel intensity, the red, perspiring face of .the coroner, then suddenly that of the messenger who had come with Barry Dunne’s note; the messenger who said: “Have you given his name?” These two faces merged—they were one with four terrible eyes focused upon her. The coroner asked quietly, assuming an impartial tone: "What. is your n4me?" And that shocked her. Her hands were clasped—so cold she didn’t feel their pressure. But she felt a hundred eyes and she glanced up to them, bewildered. She gave no answer. “Is your name Helena Bryce?” No sound. Then: “Were you known here and on the farm of Mrs. Agnes Robbins as ‘Mrs. John Clayton?’ ” "Yes.” “Are you the mother of the deceased infant known as ’Merle Clayton?’ ” “Yes.” “Are you married?” The lawyer rose: “Just a moment. If you please, Mr. Coroner, I am attorney for the witness. I must instruct her not to answer that question. It has ncNbearing on the death of the child." ”1 beg to differ, sir. My purpose as coroner of this town is to clear a very mysterious case of infant death. There are certain suspicious circumstances. An unmarried mother might have many reasons for getting rid of her child ” "Well, Mr. Coroner, my client comes here voluntarily. She is perfectly willing to state all the fact? ■of the baby’s death. She wishes to clear the matter. But she is under no compulsion to speak. If you can show foul play in the death of the child; if you can show the mothei may be responsible, then I am willing that she answer all questions necessary In proving a motive. But you will have to show that a crime was committed first.” “Very well- Where is your home, Mrs. Clayton?” Almost Inaudible, Chickie answered, “Indianapolis.” “You came to the farm of Mrs. Agnes Robbins five months before your child was born?” “Yes.”

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“Your mall was sent from the city through a hotel In Lancaster. It was addressed to Miss Helena Bryce?” The lawyer quietly, “Don’t answer.” “But isn’t it a fact, Mrs. Clayton, that you sent telegrams on the day of your disappearance signed with the name of Bryce, and also that you received messages sent to Helena Bryce?” “I must object to that, Mr. Ccjroner. Whether this witness used orie name or a dozen has absolutely no bearing on the matter under investigation—namely, the death of the infant.” * * • SHE coroner reared the thick neck as an animal does. He leaned forward till his face was almost on a lsvel with the table. "If the witness wishea to conceal facts, Mr. Attorney, very well. The fact that a woman leads a double life—uses two names, conceals from her parents the birth of a child, bears directly on this case ” “When you show it, the questions will be aswered. But if the purpose of this investigation is merely to embarrass my witness, the witness will be withdrawn ” “Yes, and a warrant charging murder can be sworn!” Jonathan stirred then —he lurched forward, started to speak The lawyer raised his hand. He arorwered sauvely: “Yes—the warrant can be sworn if the evidence is at hand. If there is no evidence, all parties swearing to such a warrant shall be responsible. However, Mr. Coroner, the witness wishes to aid. She ia ready to give the complete account of the child’s death. I ant aware that you, as coroner of this town, can certainly have no prejudice—no wish to fasten guilt where guilt can not exist. My witness will O lvo all necessary Information.” The coroner fixed his large slothful eyes, on Chickie: "Did your parents know of the birth of your child?” “Just a moment!” But now the tension sharpened, a scraping of feet, an impatient stirring, but the lawyer turned to the jury: “The question deals with the death, not the birth, of an imant.” The men on the Jury watched Chickie. She sat with the nale face lowered—exquisite in Its thinness, piercing in its mute despair. The coroner answered: "The death may be directly traceable to unfortunate circumstances of its birth. Is it a fact, Mrs. Clayton, that on the fourth day after the birth of your child you secretly removed it from the house of Mrs. Robbins?” “Yes." “You knew it was a raw, freezing day?” “I don’t know.” “You knew your child was weak?” “They said so.” “You left a note saying that you sent the nurse away because, she would oppose your going. So you knew it was a dangerous thing to take the child from the house —” Chickie was suddenly standing at its basket again, seeing the small unprotesting face—dreaming of placing it in her mother's arms—giving it to them—to Jennie and Jonathan. She glanced upward, her eyes beseeching. She said faintly: \'T couldn’t leave it.” “Why did you go?" “A message—l had a message—” “That your mother was dying. Is this the message you mean?” Chickie nodded. Now she sat lower in the chair. She clasped and unclasped . her hands. Her eyes seemed to grow large—tj take up with their tragic appeal tie whiteness of her face. "You got a message that your mother was dying, and you left, taking the baby with you? You intended to take this child to your dying mother” A flickering smile, half wild, went about Chickie’s mouth. She said: "Yes—oh—you see—you see” “You were to bring the child to them, although a week before its birth you sent this telegram?” He held up a yellow slip of paper. He read the frantic message Chickie had sent. Oh, that was wnen she was snowbound—she couldn’t get to them. / He read this. • • • SHE men and women packed into the heated room, with the sun streaming like a warm liquid even through the drawn shades—these men and women craned forward, drinking expectantly the pitiful revelation of Chickie’s concealments—Chickie’s forlorn, lost fight to hide the shame and the tragedy. Jonathan had called: “In God’s name, cqme—Jennie is sinking!” N —she hadn’t gone. Bhe had wired: “I’m coming—travel slow. I have a terribly sprained ankle. I may be delayed.” She went back now to that desperate hour —lost and helpless In it. The coroner spoke twice. Agnes Robbins tapped her shoulder before Bhe heard: “Isn’t it a fact that you were on the farm of Mrs. Robbins at this time, and that you weio then awaiting the birth of your hild?” A slight, desponding nod. “On the day your child was born you received another message asking why you wore delayed. You sent no answer to this. Isn’t It a fact, Mrs. Clayton, that you went to great lengths to keep secret the birth of your child?” Chickie looked about the room, Imploring, distracted. The faces with their lighted eagerness frightened her. She moved her hands outward—siuch pretty hamie—in a little beseeching gesture. She said: “You see—well, you see’— The lawyer interrupted: "You may answer the question later, Mrs. Clayton. It has no bearing, so far shown, on the case.” “I will show its bearing, Mr. Attorney. This witness states that she left, taking her child with her, and that she intended to take it to her dying mother. The facts indicate that she did not intend to take it home. That she felt “herself forced to some other disposal of the child.” “Show these facts, Mr. Coroner”— “You admit stealing from the house, Mrs. Clayton? You went down the river road. It was windy. Tell about it. Tell about that walk along the rlyer road.” Chickie put up her hand, shading her face. Sounds came to v, •

The coroner seeks to bare her r ast as he grills her on the baby.

lips—low, strangled. The lawyer whispered: “Tell it, Mrs. Clayton—try to speak louder.” Chickie rose a little—and her hands flew suddenly to her breast. She said: “Oh—it was cold—” and she told them—of the baby—its soft hair—lts cheeks against her neck — and then so quiet and the flicker of its lips and she had laid it on the ground and blew the breath in its mouth and tried to warm it. There was the picture of it —and of the pale, frantic thing kneeling beside it —trying to keep its life. She sgJd: “I didn’t know —I put it here —under my coat—it was so still—it didn’t move.” ... HE sank back in the chair, covering her face. —.. The coroner said: “You put it under your coat?" Without moving her hand from her eyes, Chickie nodded. "You held it close against you and ran?” She nodded again—she sudd faintly: “Oh —you see—you see ” “Go on—then what ” “Oh I looked at it —it was cold—it was still ” “That was after you put it under your coat. Is it a fact, Mrs. Clayton, that on the day of your disappearance you spoke to the nurse Emily Faris, about the smothering of a child? Did you say to her: ’1 might roll over on it and in a moment it would be dead!’ " Chickie cried out then. She reeled. She began to speak: “Oh”—— The lawyer shouted, and everyone in the room stiffened: “Don’t answer. The question seeks to prove an intention of crime; take it for granted that this witness wished to rid herself of the child. No such fact has been proved." The coroner banged his fist on the table. "The question is not unfair. We have before us a case of glaring irregularity. A doctor/ tkkea a dead child brought by a woman admittedly In hiding—a woman going under two names. The witness has admitted her frenzy. She runs off and leaves her dead infant *in the hands of this town. She starts out with a child of four days—a child whose coming kept her from the bedside of her dying mother; of whose existence they knew nothing. Could she take it to them? She feels herself an outcast —she is an outcast ” A movement —a giant form pitching between Chickie and the red, moist face of the coroner. Chickie lifted in the might arms—a rumble, Jonathan’s free hand shaking: “Outcast —no! My daughter, sir—my girl!" Someone in the rear of the room shouted "Hurrah!” and others took it up. The jury got to its feet. Chickie lay insensible in her father’s arms. CHAPTER CXIII The Verdict S' - ’ 10METHING magnetic In the sweep of Jonathan’s arm ibout her, quickening the way he lifted her up, claiming so proudly, “My daughter, sir!” It struck through the room, an instant vibration as to sudden, elemental music. There came a sobbing, a movement to the table. A woman reached for Chickie’s inert hand and kissed it. Even men on the Jury joined in the excited whispering. They pushed forward. The lawyer spoke hurriedly to Jonathan: “Don’t get excited. Leave her here. It will be all right. This won’t hurt at all.” So they put her in the chair. The beautiful eyes were closed, a touching pathos In the soft contour of her throat, the young girl droop of her head. Jonathan didn’t want to let her down—didn’t want this avid room of people staring so— The lawyer spoke to the coroner, who was now calling for order. “Do you wish to continue with the witness? If so* I would suggest again that the investigation be confined to the facts dealing with the death of the infant, and not with opinions on the subject.” The coroner answered, "I have no further questions to ask the witness.” He turned to the Jury, “The case, gentlemen, seems to have a good many peculiar angles that are not cleared. The evidence shows plenty of motive for a possible crime. But the witnesses are reluctant. It is my duty to sift the matter—to get all the facts—but we can’t do this If questions will not be answered. You will have to judge the matter from the evidence at hand”— The lawyer was again on his feet. “I heg your pardon, Mr. Coroner, the witnesses are perfectly willing to give all facts. If foul play was done, let it be proved. It you wish to clear the matter of the infant’s death, there is a woman p-esent who can tell of it; a woman who knows more about this case than any other, in all probability. I refer to Mrs. Agnes Robbins, on whose farm the

Puzzle a Day

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A judge of the marble contest took some of the local champions out to dinner. He took three glasses from the table and six marbles from his pocket. “Boys,” he said, “you are marble experts so I know you can do this. Put an odd number of these marbles In each of the three glasses, but be sure to use all six marbles.” I must confess the boys could not do It. Can you? Last puzzle answer: The parcel of land was divided into 21 lots and each cost $1,500- 21 times (1,500 equals $31,600. They were sold for $2,000 times 21 equals $42,000; $42,000 plus $31,500 equals $10,500 profit; $1,500 times 7 equals' Mu Son equals cost of 7 lots

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

mother of the infant lived for five months. Mrs. Robbins was present when the child wits born. She saw it within two hours of the time the mother left. I would suggest you cell Mrs. Robbins to the stand ’’ . Larry Mitford’s large, beefy head was now on a level with the table. He asked: “Is Mrs. Robbins present?” Black eyes snapping: the hard, passionate mouth compressed, Agnes Robbins took the stand.- She answered the brief perfunctory questions in an incisive, almost a threatening manner. • • • BRUPTLY the coroner concluded. Five or six sentences l —not a word in favor of Chickie. But the foreman of the jury got suddenly to his feet as though he were for the first time alive to the situation. "Mr. Coroner, I’d like to inquire a bit if that’s agreeable to you.” Then he said to Mrs. Robbins: "Before this baby was born did the mother ever ask you about caring for it, or did she want to board it out or get rid of it in any way at all?” “No—she never did. But she talked about the child.” "What did she say?” “She said she hoped it would be a son, because a girl has often to suffer so. anl It Is easier to be a man. She often said she hoped It would be glad for life and that it would be a happy thing.” "Did she ever say she was sorry to have a child?” “No—she never did. And she made all its clothes, and wanted them pretty with ribbons and bits of lace. She did all that.” "After the child was born did she notice it? Did she seem to care for it?” % ” es. She had Mrs. Faris move the basket right next to her bed. and she used to stare at it for a long while. She often touched its hair; she often asked me if I thought it was pretty. She said It had such lovely hands.” "Did the mother ever ask you about smothering a child?” Agnes Robbins glanced hastily across the room at the lawyer. She hesitated, then, vehemently: "Yes. she did! I’ll tell you why. She fell asleep once with the baby at her breast. She dreamed that she rolled on it and crushed it. She was so frightened that afterward she wouldnt even close her eyes when she held it. I’ve dreamed that very thing myself with my own children in my arms. Every mother does! Does it mean we want to smother our children?” (To Be Continued) (Copyright. Kin? Feature Syndicate) The story of “Chickie” ends Tuesday. Can Chickie come Read the sequel to “Chickie” beginning in The Times Wednesday.

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MONDAY, JUNE 22, 1925