Jasper County Democrat, Volume 18, Number 69, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 November 1915 — ON TRIAL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

ON TRIAL

Novelized by Charles N. Lurie From the Great Play by Elmer Reizenstein

SYNOPSIS Robert Strickland la on trial for killing Gerald Traak In the latter’s library at night. District Attorney Gray declares Strickland killed Trask, with the aid of an accomplice, who escaped, for the sake of SI4OOO in cash, which Strickland had just repaid to Trask. The defendant and Trask were the only two who knew the combination to the safe. Important figures In the case are Arbuckle, counsel for , the defense, and Glover, who was Trask's secretary. Strlckland would not make defense, but law compels him to do so. Mrs. Strickland disappeared after the shooting. Mrs. Trask, on stand, tells of telephone call made on her husband, on the night of his death, by a woman who would not give her name. • Trask returned from Long Branch that night and told of giving by mistake the combination cf the safe to Strickland. Mrs. Trask asked him In vain for name of woman who called him up. Glover and Trask discussed Strickland and praised him.

CHAPTER IV. “Who Is This Woman?” XD then Stanley Glover, seenting the approach of the storm, |Sag*H£ again interposed hastily: "Do you mind opening the safe, Mr. Trask? 1 want to get Mrs. Trask’s account books.” With an “All rights Trask began feeling in his pockets. He explored one after another without result. “What did I do with that card?” he said. “I had a card with the combination written on it. That's a funny thing. Where the devil did I put it?”“Maybe it's in another suit,” suggested Mrs. Trask, while Glover asked: “When did you have it last?” To the secretary Trask replied: “Yesterday morning before I left. I opened the safe to get my check book.” Again from Mrs. Trask: “Perhaps you left it down at Long Branch.” of the watering place seemed to irritate the financier. There were associations with its name, perhaps, which made the mention by his wife doubly disagreeable. On the lips of others “Long Branch” was merely a name on a map, a pleasant place wherein to while away a holiday. There was something in “Long Branch” from her which made him turn on her and say savagely, with do attempt to conceal his irritation: “That’s ridiculous! Why should I leave the combination to the safe at Long Branch?” She did not reply to his outburst of temper. He stood thinking intently for a moment, and then exclaimed: “Oh, I know what I did with it! I it to Strickland. I've just come from there. I invited him to come down to Long Branch on Sunday, and I wrote the address on the card for him.”

“Are you sure the combination was on that card?” asked Glover. “Yes. I never stopped to look at the other side. Very careless of me. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow for the books.” To this the secretary replied, “Well, there's no hurry about it," but his employer raised his hand, with “Wait a minute. I believe I can get that combination.” He walked past Glover to the safe, bent clown to the knob and began to manipulate it. For a moment his memory failed him. and he said to himself, “No, that’s not it.” “Don't bother about it,” said Glover, and the eholer of the older man again found vent. Was there something in the surcharged domestic atmosphere that irritated him? Was it the presence of his wife, standing silently by while he tried to open his safe, or was it the shadow of Impending doom which darkened his soul on this night? “Say." he snapped to the waiting Glover, “you know if you’re going to taut l never can remember these numbers. I’ve got It There you are.” Turning the handle of the safe and palling the door toward him, he said to Glover, “Help yourself.” With the books in his band, Glover said to Trask, “Do you want to do any work tonight?” “No, I don’t think so. I want to turn In early. I’ve been golfing all day, and I'm tired.”

For some minutes, while the safe was being opened, Joan Trask had sat silent Only the nervous working of her hands, twisting and untwisting a handkerchief and the slight frown on her face told that she still thought of the mysterious telephone call. But It was not of that she spoke, but of her dissatisfaction with her husband’s conduct in the words which arrested Glover as he was about to leave the room and which brought anew the contemptuous look to the face of her husband.

“Seems to me you might have waited until we all went down to Itpng Branch,” she said. “When are you going?” “Mondayi Aren’t you coming with us?” L “I’m going down Saturday night I’ve got up a fishing party for Sunday morning. Like to join me, Glover?” Like to join them! Why, It was

meat and drink to the young private secretary. to sit and stand and walk and break bread with his wealthy employer and the set with whom Trask surrounded himself. They were Stanley Glover’s idols—the “big fellows” of the “street”—there is but one street In New York that is known without its distinguishing name—who manipulated millions. Despite his repression and quiet exterior young Glover was consumed by a burning desire to be as they were. His salary was ample for his needs, and his position in the Trask establishment was not a mean one. But In his heart of hearts he cherished the ambition to acquire wealth such as was possessed by his employer and the men with whom he associated and to have a private secretary of his own. No more ardent worshiper of Mammon, albeit in a carefully concealed fashion, than Stanley Glover existed in New York. Picking the figurative crumbs from his employer’s table, he had begun to “play the market” But luck had been against him, and he had lost

Like to join them! Gratification beamed from every feature of the young man’s face as he replied: “Thanks! I’ll be glad to!” “Strickland’s coming with us,” said Trask. “When did he get back from the west?” ' “Tonight. He wired me to meet him at Ms home.” “What are you going to do about that note of his? It was due on the 22d, you know.” “He paid it.” said Trask. “I have the ten thousand here.” With that he reached into an inside pocket, took out a thin package of bills and placed them on the desk. “I'm surprised,” Glover said. “I thought he would fall down.” “He got it from those business connections in Cleveland. When I got to his house tonight he had the ten thousand. I didn't want to take it. 1 told him 1 knew he was hard pressed and that I didnTmlnd holding off for awhile.” *

A smile passed over the face of the financier, which was turned for the moment away from his two companions in the room. It was not a benevolent smile, telling of the applause of the inward voice for a gooff deed well performed. Rather was there something sinister and crafty about it. Treacherous, perhaps, as was the smile of Joab when he took Abner aside in the gate,

“to speak with him quietly and smote him there under the fifth rib. that be died.” The smile passed unnoticed of Mrs. Trask and Glover, and the secretary asked: “What did he say?” “He wouldn’t hear of it. Wants to begin with a clean slate, he says.” The usually quiet secretary i>ermitted himself for once to approach the border of enthusiasm. “That’s like Strickland, straight clean through.” he exclaimed. “He’s a fine chap. Too bad he couldn't make things go.” The “business man” came uppermost in the mind of Trask. He shrugged his shoulders as be answered: “Well, that’s business. Somebody’s got to go to the wall.” "Strickland takes It pretty hard. On account of his wife. 1 guess. He's awfully fond of her.” While business was being discussed Mrs. Trask had sat silent. Now the mention of another woman aroused her—perhaps It was the thought of a woman’s possessing what had been denied to her by the fates, the full and undivided affection of a husband—and she asked: “Is she a nice woman?” Was it the tiring rounds of golf, the weariness induced by hours of travel or something else which made Trask yawn before he replied to his wife? Certain It was that the mention of another woman in itself would not tire him, the man who combined keen acumen In financial affairs with a pursuit of pleasure that would have done credit or discredit to a Roman of the days of Imperial decadence. “Couldn’t say. Never met her,” he answered. Then he turned to Glover, saying: "You better put that SIO,OOO in the safe, Glover.” “Why the cash?” asked the young man. Again the smile appeared on the lips of Trask. “Well, he said It had been so darned /hard for him to get It that he

- itifIHSSBHB wanted thi§ pleasunT o?“han3lng''ft To me in ten SI,OOO bills. Be sure to deposit it in the morning.” Glover took the money and went to the safe. Mrs. Trask sat quietly, noticing nothing, distracted by thoughts of “the other woman.” Trask sat at the desk, stretching his limbs and yawning. Neither saw that the money was deposited securely in the Inner compartment of the safe. Glover turned his head to ask, “Shall I lock it, sir?”

“Yes," said Trask, and Glover rose, with the words “Anything else?” “I don’t think so. Oh, yes! Better remind me to get that card from Strickland in the morning.” * “All right," said Glover. “I’ll go to my room now." He picked up Mrs. Trask’s account books from the table and said to her, “I’ll have these ready for you in the morning, Mrs. Trask.” She thanked him, and there were three “Good nights” as he left the room. When be had gone there was a brief silence, broken only by a prodigious and discourteous yawn from Trask. It was plainly to be seen that between Gerald and Joan Trask there was nothing of the sweet confidence and intimacy of married life which make happy wedlock the nearest earthly approach to heaven. Long before she had begun to bore him. Years before he had forfeited by infidelity and indifference the love she had once felt for him. But it not was dead. It needed but the spark of renewed affection, respect and trustworthiness on his part to bring it into full blaze. Joan Trask was a good woman, a wife of whom any mau might have been proud. Even in physical attractions she was not wanting, and strangers seeing her decked in costly raiment and jewels envied Gerald Trask his consort. Her face told nothing of the inroads which her husband’s succession of slights and insults, combined with infidelities, had made on her spirit. “For the sake of the children”—oh, potent justification: of how many patient women!—she had borne with him. But tonight—somehow tonight was different Iler soul was consumed by a burning desire to know who “the other woman’’ was. Not that it mattered much. Whoever she was she was but the latest of a long line. But Joan Trask was insistent this time. lie was her lawful husband, and he must come out into t he open. As soon as Glover was out of earshot she turned to Trask. “Gerald, who is this woman?” she asked. "Oh, what woman?’’ The words were drawled out in a tome which might have betokened weariness of either body or spirit. “The one who called up awhile ago.” Trask put his hands into his troUserf pockets and rose, stretching. “Say, aren’t you done with that yet? I told you 1 don’t know,” he replied. She persisted. “You do know!” iTO BE CONTINUE)* ,

Will be moved, everything will sell from cellar to garret. Terms—A credit of 12 months will be given with approved security, notes bearing 8 per cent interest if not paid when due. $lO and under cash in hand. No goods to be removed until terms of sale are complied with. ' Lunch will be served. Will meet all trains at MedaryvUle on niorning of sale. , A. W. KENYON, Owner. W. H. Kenyon, auctioneer; F. A. Kenyon, decorator.

“Strickland's awfully fond of his wife.”