Rensselaer Journal, Volume 10, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 May 1901 — THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY

BY RODRIGUES OTTOLENGUI,

Author of “An Art.Ut In Crime,” “A Conflict of Evidence,” “A Modern Wizard,” “Final Proof,” Etc. CopyrfflM, ISS6, bv G- P- Putnam’* Son*. Afl rtvht* referred.

CHAPTER XV. PERDITA. Colonel Payton observed this scene in great surprise, while Mr. Mitchel only smiled, the denouement of his experiment being what he had expected. Lilian sat in the chair and crooned over ty*r baity, apparently oblivious of those who stood near her. “When you brought this girl here, did you think she was the baby’s mother?” asked Qolonel Pay ton. “I thought so,” said Mr. Mitchel, “but I was not sure. She denied it. Therefore I brought the mother and child together, relying upon the instincts of nature to reveal the truth. There is yet much to be explained, however.” “Much to be explained!” cried the colonel. “I should say so. She will have to explain why she abandoned the chil<L and she must explain it before a Jury tod.” “Before a jury? What do you mean?” “I mean that I will have her detained /here until the authorities are informed of what has taken place. Then she must go to prison. I have no doubt that with your assistance she will be indicted by the grand jury.” “Oh, indeed! But you will not have my assistance.” “You mean you will not testify against her. Well, well! You are a poor citizen. You hesitate to do your duty, deterred by a pretty face. If alt men were like you, crime would go unpunished.” “You are quite correct, colonel. If all men shared my views, the punishment of crime would be abolished.” “Bah! It makes me sick to hear a man of your brains Indulge in such mawkish sentimentality. You allow your senses to bXled astray by a woman’s pretty face. “This woman has com- ' mitted a crime, and she must suffer the consequences. You are new at this sort of thing, but I am an old band. I know my duty.” “And you think it is your duty to : punish this child ?”

“Why, no-not the child, but the mother.” The colonel did not quite comprehend Mr. Mitchel’s meaning. The latter therefore added: “Ah, but the mother Is herself a child!” “Oh! I see what you mean. But youth is no excuse in a case of this kind.” “Then you are determined to have her punished?” “It is my duty to see that the law is carried out." “But why?” “Because she has confmltted a crime.” “What evidence have you of that?” “Why, did she not admit that the child is hers?” “Yes, but that does not prove that she abandoned it.” “Why, who else could have done it?” “Why not the father? Fathers have done such things, have'they not? Did you never hear of such a case?” The subject evidently was distasteful to the colonel, and, besides, it was ever his habit when he found himself worsted in an argument to bring the conversation to an abrupt close, as he endeavored to do now, “That's most unlikely,” said he. “Anyway I leave the proof to the district attorney. It is none of my business.” “You are mistaken. It Is exactlyyour business to learn the truth before you blast this young girl’s future by bringing such a charge against her. It will do no harm to question her. Will you listen to her replies while I talk with her?” r “Oh, I haven’t a doubt that the lies will roll off her glib tongue faster than We could.write.them down! But you are determined to have your own way, I suppose, so fire away. You’re a crank, Mitchel; that’s what you are, a crank.” Mr. Mitchel approached Lilian, who was still busy playing with her baby anff 'talking in a low tone with the matron, who sympathized with the pretty young mother. Touching her gently on the shoulder to attract her

attention, he said: “So it is your baby after all?” “Oh, yes! I am so surprised. How did she get here?” “Did I not tell you? She was found crawling among the tombstones in an old graveyard down town.” “You mean that was a real story you told me? And it was my baby? I don’t understand it all. What does It mean?” She gazed at him appealingly, perplexed beyond measure, and Mr. Mitchel felt assured of her sincerity, but the colonel sneered and said: “You stated that she is an actress, did you not? She plays her part very well. Quite an Innocent, is she not?” Mr. Mitchel did not seem to notice the cruel speech, but again addressed Lilian “Yes, it was all true, as I told you the story. You remember, you asked me who could have placed the child there.” “Yes, and you said you suspected the father. But, If you were talking about my baby, then you are wrong, Matthew never would have done such a tiling, never, never, never!” “You mean Matthew Crane?” “Yes; but you said you know him. Why do you call him that?” “ You mean I ought to call him Jim,” said Mr. Mitchel, “Preacher Jim?” “Why, no. Preacher Jim is not my—my husband. How could you think that?” It was now Mr. Mitchel’s turn to be bewildered. When she had told him that her name was Mrs, Matthew Crane, he had felt satisfied that It was the criminal of whom she spoke. Now it dawned upon him that he had been under some misapprehension, but he did not yet see wherein he had been in error. He hastened to lead her on now, lest her own suspicions might be aroused and she should thereafter refuse to make further disclosures. “I thought you told me so. Then t Matthew Crane is not your husband’s real name?” ? “Why, no! If you know” him, you ought to know that. His name is Matthew Morton." “Matthew Morton,” thought Mr, Mitchel, quickly grasping the truth.

“It was Matthew Mora, alias Matthew Morton, who was the father of this waif. How very strange that what had at first seemed a totally different affair should now prove to be connected in so important a manner with the case which Mr. Barnes was investigating!” “Of course, of course!” said he aloud, “It was to you, then, that he sent the note yesterday morning when you left the house in Essex street in a carriage?” That he should have this knowledge seemed to reassure the girl, for she now spoke to him more freely. “Why, yes,” said she. “Matthew wrote me that I must leave the house and go to a boarding house in Tenth street, and he told me to call myself Mrs. Cranfe till I heard from him again. That’s why I gave you that name.” This seemed very significant to Mr. Mitchel. Did Matthew Mora know that Preacher Jim’s true name was Matthew Crane, and did he instruct Lilian to assume that name as a means of throwing detectives upon a false scent in case they should track the girl to her new abode? It began to look as though Mr. Barnes’ estimate of the man was correct. But the main point at present was to learn what part he had played in the removal of the child from its mother and in its subsequent abandonment. Mr. Mitchel dismissed all idea of collusion on the part of the girl. “You say your husband did not place your baby in the graveyard. How do you know this?” “I suppose I might as well tell you the whole truth. Well, one night we were to a ball at Apollo hall when who should turn up but an old gent, who walked straight to where we were dancing. He grabs me by the arm and squeezed me so hard I screamed. Then he threw me one side, and, grabbing Matthew, he says, ‘I want you to come out of this.’ Matthew never said a word, but went with him. They went down to the saloon,’ and they had high words together, but after awhile Matthew came ud again and

tried id tnake out as if nothing Was wrong. But I Wouldn’t have it, so finally he told me the old man was his father; that he was on to us and was in an ugly humor. I got scared at that and began to cry, but Matthew told me there was nothing to cry about. There was nothing the old man could do to me anyway, whatever he might do to him. Then all of a sudden Matthew turned white like, as though he had a sudden idea, and he says to me: ‘You wait for me here. I’ll be back.’ Then he rushed off. He was gone a long time and only got back as the ball was breaking up, and he took me home. When we got there, baby was gone. I was frightened, but Matthew explained everything to me. ‘I got an idea at the ball,’ said he, ‘that the gov’nur might have found out where we were living. If he had come here and seen the baby, it would have 0 been all up with me. He would have disinherited me, sure. So I rushed round here, and there was the little cherub in his crib. But I know my gov’nur, and I ain’t taking chances. So I’ve taken baby to a nurse I know up town, and she’ll be all right till this blows over.’ ‘Till this blows over,’ says I. ‘You ain’t never going to keep baby from me for a long time?’ ‘Oh. no,’ says he, ‘only till the old gent gets off his high horse. That won’t be more’n a week. But it’s best for you not to see baby for awhile, You might be watched. The old man is full of that sort of thing. If I find it out, I may have to move you out of this In a hurry. So be ready any time you get word to change boarding houses in a jiffy.’ Then he kissed me and went off. I haven’t seen him since, but that’s why I wasn’t surprised when I got the note yesterday morning,” “W’here did this nurse live? Did your husband tell you?” "No. He said if he didn’t tell me it would be safer, as-nobody could get it out of me. So, don’t you see, he was so particular about baby’s safety he never would have harmed her.”

“She plays her part well. Quite an innocent, is she not?”