The Syracuse Journal, Volume 7, Number 12, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 16 July 1914 — Page 4

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B. &0. Time table, EAST WEST No. 16 —12:44p. ni No. 17 —6:19 a. in No. 8 — 2:oS p. ni No. 15 —4:40 a. ni No. 18 — 7:55 p.m No. 11—2:20p. m No. 6 — 8:45 p. m No. 7—1145 p. m No. 14 due at 1:03. No. 10 due at 11-.00 and No. 12, due at 9:18. Teeth filled, crowned and extracted absolutely without pain. Dr. Cunningham, Goshen. 3 —Store your houshold goods at Beckmans.

Be tee * OF JJOWIE R[Wl£ Mute By MARY ROBERTS RINEHART Copyright, 1913, by the Bobbi-Metrill Company

CHAPTER XII. LADLEY. you have said I that your wife was ill the i I night of March 4?” ’ “Yes."

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“What was the nature of her illness?" “She had a functional heart trouble, not serious." “Will you tell us fully the events of that night?” “I had been asleep when my wife wakened me. She asked for a medicine she used in these attacks. I got up and found the bottle, but it was empty. As she was nervous and frightened, 1 agreed to try to get some at a drug store. 1 went downstairs, took Mrs. Pitman’s boat and went to several stores before I could awaken a pharmacist." “You cut the boat loose?” “Yes. It was tied in a woman’s knot or series of knots. 1 could not untie it, and I was in a hurry.” “How did you cut it?” “With my pocketknife.” “You did not use Mrs. Pitman’s bread knife?” “I did not.” “And in cutting it you cut your wrist, did you?” , “Yes. The knife slipped. I have the scar still.” “What did you do then?” “I went back to the room and stanched the blood with a towel." “From whom did you get the medicine?” “From Alexander’s pharmacy.” “At what time?” “I am not certain. About 3 o’clock, probably." “You went directly back home?” Mr. Ladley hesitated. “No." he said finally. “My wife had had these attacks, but they were not serious. 1 was curious to see how the river front looked and rowed out too far. I was caught in the current and nearly carried away.” “You came home after that?” “Yes. at once. Mrs. Ladley was better and had dropped asieep. She wakened as I came in. She was disagreeable about the length of time 1 had been gone and would not let me explain. We quarreled, and she said she was going to leave me. I said that as she had threatened this before and had never done It 1 would see that she really started. At daylight 1 rowed her to Federal street." “What had she with her?” “A small brown valise.” “How was she dressed?” “In a black and white dress and hat with a long, black coat." “W’hat was the last you saw of her?” “She was going across the Sixth street bridge.” “Alone.” “No. She went with a young man we knew.” There was a stir in the courtroom at this. “Who was the young man?” “A Mr. Howell, a reporter on a newspaper here.” “Have you seen Mr. Howell since your arrest?” “No, sir. He has been out of the city.” I was so excited by this time that I could hardly hear. I missed some of the cross examination. The district attorney pulled Mr. Ladley’s testimony to pieces. “You cut the boat’s painter with your pocketknife?” “I did.” “Then how do you account for Mrs. Pitman’s broken knife, with the blade in your room?” “I have no theory about it. She may have broken it herself. She had used it the day before to lift tacks out of a carpet." That was true; I had. “That early Monday morning was cold, was it not?” “Yes; very." “Why did your wife leave without her fur coat?” “1 did not know she had until we had left the house. Then I did not ask her. She would not speak to me.” “1 see. But is it not true that, upon a wet fur coat being shown you as your wife’s, you said it could not be hers, as she had taken hers with her?” “I do not recall such a statement.” “You recall a coat being shown you?” “Yes. Mrs. Pitman brought a coat to my door, but 1 was working ou a play I am writing, and I do not remember what 1 said. The coat was ruined. 1 did not want it. 1 probably said the first thing 1 thought of to get rid of the woman.” I got up at that I’d held my peace about the breadknife,* but this was too mucn. However, the moment I startea to speak somebody pushed me back into my chair and tola me to be quiet. “Now, you say you were in such a nurry to get this medicine for your wife that you cut the rope, thus cutting your wrist.” “Yes. I have the scar still.” “You could not wait to untie the boat, and yet you went along the river front to see how high the water was?” “Her alarm had excited me. But when I got out and remembered that the doctors had told us she would never die in an attack, I grew more composed.” “You got the medicine first, you say?” “Yes.” “Mr. Alexander has testified that you got the medicine at 3:30. It has been shown that you left the house at 2 and aot hack Does not t>d»

I “I was gone from 2to 4.” be replied . calmly. “Mr. Alexander must be wrong about the time I wakened him. I got the medicine first.” “When your wife left you at the bridge, did she say where she was i going?” “No.” “You claim that this woman at Hoti ner was your wife?” | “I think it likely." “Was there an onyx clock in the sec- ! ond story room when you moved ! into it?” i “I do not recall the clock.” “Your wife did not take an onyx clock away with her?" Mr. Ladley smiled. “No.” The defense called Mr. Howell next. He looked rested and the happier for having seen Lida, but he was still pale and showed the strain of some hidden anxiety. What that anxiety was the next two days were to tell us all. “Mr. Howell,” Mr. Llewellyn asked, “you know the prisoner?” “Slightly." “State when you met him.” “On Sunday morning. March 4. 1 j went to see him.” i “Will you tell us the nature of that visit?” “My paper had heard he was writing a play for himself. 1 was to get an interview, with photographs, if possible.” “You saw his wife at that time?” “Yes.” “When did you see her again?” “The following morning at 6 o’clock or a little later. I walked across the Sixth street bridge with her and put her on a train for Horner. Pa.” “You are positive it was Jennie Brice?” “Yes. I watched her get out of the boat while her husband steadied it.” “If you knew this, why did you not come forward sooner?” “I have been out of the city.” “But you knew the prisoner had been arrested and that this testimony of yours would be invaluable to him.” “Yes. But 1 thought it necessary to produce Jennie Brice herself. My unsupported word”— “You have been searching for Jennie Brice?" “Yes. Since March 8.” “How was she dressed when you saw her last?” “She wore a red and black hat and a black coat. She carried a small brown valise.” “Thank you.” The cross examination did not shake his testimony. But it brought out some curious things. Mr. Howell refused to say how he happened to be at the end of the Sixth street bridge at that hour or why he had thought it necessary on meeting a woman he claimed to have known only twentyfour hours to go with her to the railway station and put her on a train. The jury was visibly impressed and nuch shaken, for Mr. Howell carried conviction in every word he said. He looked the district attorney in the eye, and once when our glances crossed he even smiled at me faintly. But I saw why he had tried to find Jennie Brice and had dreaded testifying. Not a woman in that courtroom and hardly a man but believed when he left the stand.that he was or had been Jennie Brich's lover and as such was assisting her to leave her husband. “Then you believe.” the district attorney said at the end—“you believe, Mr. Howell, that Jennie Brice is living?” “Jennie Brice was living on Monday morning. March 5,” he said firmly. “Miss Shaeffer has testified that on Wednesday this woman who you claim was Jennie Brice sent a letter to you from Horner. Is that the case?” “Yes.” “The letter was signed ‘Jennie Brice’?" “It was signed ‘J. B.’ ” “Will you show the court that letter?” “I destroyed it.” “It was a personal letter?” “It merely said she had arrived safely and not to let any one know where she was.” “And yet you destroyed it?” “A postscript said to do so.” / “Why?” ' “1 do not know. An extra precaution probably.” “You were under the impression that she was going to stay there?" “She was to have remained for a week." “And you have been searching for this woman for two months?" He quailed, but his voice was steady. “Yes,” he admitted. He was telling the truth, even if it was not all the truth. 1 believe had it gone to the jury then Mr. Ladley would have been acquitted. But late that afternoon things took a new turn. Counsel for the prosecution stated to the court that he had a new and important witness and got permission to introduce this further evidence. The witness was a Dr. Littlefield and proved to be my one night tenant of the second story front. Holcombe’s prisoner of the night before took the stand. The doctor was less impressive in full daylight—he was a trifle shiny, a bit bulbous as to nose and indifferent as to finger nails. But his testimony was given with due professional weight. “You are a doctor of. medicine, Dr. Littlefield?” asked the district attorney. “Yes.” “In active practice?” “I have a cure for inebriates in Des Moines, la. I was formerly In general practice in New York city.” “You knew Jennie Ladley?” “I had seen her at different theaters, and she consulted me professionally at one time in New York.” “You operated on her, I believe?” “Yes. She came to me to have a name removed. It had been tattooed over her heart.” “You removed it?" “Not at once. I tried fading the marks with goat’s milk, but she was impatient On the third visit to my office she demanded that the name be cut out." * * “You did it?" “Yes. She refused a general anaesthetic and 1 used cocaine. The name was John—l believe a former husband. She intended to marry

1 1 again.” 5 A titter ran over the courtroom. I People strained to the utmost are al- : r ~~z~~. i . i_ fc—i V. Si—— 1 \fcccaxxjp ■ wiyr : 3 A e I' I L - fKEMKgjjI The Doctor Made a Careful Drawing. ways glad of an to, smile. The E laughter of a wrought up crowd al--1 ways seems to me half hysterical. 1 “Have you seen photographs of the scar on the body found at Sewickley? ’ Or tbe body itself?" “No; 1 have not.” > “Will you describe the operation?" “I made a transverse incision for t the body of the name and two vertical ones—one longer for the ‘J,’ the other shorter for the stem of the ‘h.’ 1 There was a dot after the name. I made a half inch incision for it.” “Will you sketch the cicatrix as you ' recall it?” The doctor made a careful drawing on a pad that was massed to him. The drawing was much like this: p_. tine for line, dot for dot. it was tte scar, on the body found at Sewickley. “You are sure the woman was Jen- ’ nie Brice?” 1 “She sent me tickets for the theater shortly after, and I had an announce- ' meut of her marriage to the prisoner some weeks later.” “Were there any witnesses to the ’ operation?" “My assistant. 1 can produce him at any time.” That was not all of the trial, but it was the decisive moment. Shortly after the jury withdrew, and for twenk ty-four hours not a word was heard from them.

CHAPTER XIII. FTER twenty-four hours’ deliberation the jury brought in a verdict of guilty. It was a first degree verdict. Mr. How-

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ell’s unsupported word had lost out ' against a scar. Contrary to my expectation, Mr. Holcombe was not jubilant over the verdict. He came into the dining room that night and stood by the window, looking out into the yard. “It isn’t logical,” he said. “In view of Howell’s testimony, it’s ridiculous! Heaven help us uuder this jury system. anyhow! Look at the facts! Howell knows the woman. He sees her on • Monday morning and puts her on a train out of town. The boy is telling the truth. He has nothing to gain by coming forward and everything to lose. , Very well, she was alive on Monday. We know where she was on Tuesday and Wednesday. Anyhow, during those days her gem of a husband was in jail. He was freed Thursday night and from that time until his rearrest on the following Tuesday, 1 had him under observation every moment. He left the jail Thursday night, and on Saturday the body floated in at Sewickley. If it was done by Ladley it must have been done on Friday, and on Friday he was in view through the periscope all day!” Mr. Reynolds came in and joined us. “There’s only one way out that I see.” he said mildly. "Two women have been fool enough to have a name tattooed over their hearts. No woman ever thought enough of me to have my name put on her.” “I hope not.” I retorted. Mr. Reynold’s first name is Zachariah. But. as Mr. Holcombe said, all that had been proved was that Jennie Brice was dead, probably murdered. He j could not understand the defense letting the case go to the jury without their putting more stress on Mr. Howell’s story. But we were to understand that soon, and many other things. Mr. Holcombe told me that evening of learning from John Bellows of the tattooed name on Jennie Brice and of how, after an almost endless search, he had found the man who had cut the name away. i At 8 o’clock the doorbell rang. Mr. Reynolds had gone to lodge, he being an Elk and several other things and much given to regalia in boxes and having his picture in the newspapers in different outlandish costumes. Mr. Pitman used to say that man. being denied his natural love for barbaric adornment in his everyday clothing, took to the different fraternities as an excuse for decking himself out. But this has nothing to do with the doorbell. It was old Isaac. He had a basket in his hand, and he stepped into the hall and placed it on the floor. “Evening. Miss Bess,” he said. “Can you see a bit of company tonight?” “I can always see you,” I replied. But he had not meant himself. He stepped to the door and. opening it. beckoned tb some one across the street. , It was Lida! She came in. her color a little height- ' ened. and old Isaac stood back, beaming at us both. I believe it was one of the crowning moments of the old; man’s life—thus to see his Miss Bess j and Alma’s child together. ’ “Is—is he here yet?” she asked me ( ' nervously. “I did not know he was coming.” There was no need to ask which “be."

■fhere was omy one ror haaa. “He telephoned me and asked me to come here. Oh, Mrs. Pitman, I’m so ; afraid for him!” She had forgotten Isaac. I turned to the schoolteacher’s room and opened the door. “The woman who belongs here is out at a lecture." I said. “Come in here. Ikkie. and I’ll find the evening paper for you." “ ‘lkkie!’ ” said Lida, and stood staring at me. I think 1 went white. “The lady heah and I is old friends.” Isaac said, with his splendid manner. “Her mothah. Miss Lida, her motbah”— But even old Isaac choked up at tbat M and I closed the door ou him. “How queer!” Lida said, looking al me. “So Isaac knew your mother? Have you lived always in Allegheny, Mrs. Pitman?" “I was born in Pittsburgh.” I evaded. “I went away for a long time, but I ’ always longed for the hurry and at-; tivity of the old borne town. So here I I am again." Fortunately, like all the young, her own affairs engrossed her. She was flushed with the prospect of meeting her lover, tremulous ever what the evening might bring. The middle aged ' woman who had come back to the I hurry of the old town, and who, push- | ed back into an eddy of the flood dis£ j trict. could only .watch the activity and ■ the life from behind a “Rooms to Let” sign, did net concern her much. Nor should she have. Mr. Howell came soon after. He asked for her. and. going back to the dining room, kissed her quietly. He had an air of resolve, a sort of grim ! determination, that was a relief from ' the half frantic look he had worn be- i j fore. He asked to have Mr. Holeombe I ! brought down, and so behold us all, ! ’ four of us, sitting around the table— j i Mr. Holcombe with his notebook, I I with my mending and the boy with ■ one of Lida’s hands frankly under his ; on the red tablecloth. “1 want to tell all of you the whok story," he began. “Tomorrow I shall go to the district attorney and con- ■ fess, but—l want you all to have it ■ first. 1 can’t sleep again until 1 get; it off my chest Mrs. Pitman has suf- ' sered through me. and Mr. Holcombe here has spent money and time”— Lida did not speak, but she drew her chair closer and put her other hand over his. “1 want to get it straight if 1 can. Let me see. It was on Sunday, the 4th. that the river came up, wasn’t it? Yes. Well, on the Thursday before that I met you. Mr. in a restaurant in Pittsburgh. Do you remember?” Mr. Holcombe nodded. “We were talking of crime, and I said no man should be hanged on purely circumstantial evidence. You affirmed that a well linked chain of circumstantial evidence could properly hang a man. We had a long argument, in which I was worsted. There was a third man at the table—Bronson, the business manager of the Liberty the- ; •ter.” “Who sided with you.” put in Mr. j Holcombe, “and whose views I refused i to entertain because as publicity man for a theater he dealt in fiction rather than in fact." “Precisely. You may recall. Mr. Holcombe. that you offered to hang any man we would name given a proper j chain •of circumstantial evidence against him?” “Yes.” “After you left Bronson spoke to me. | He said business at the theater was , bad and complained of the way the j papers used, or wotild not use, his stuff. He said the Liberty theater had not j had a proper deal and that he was tempted to go over and bang one of i the company on the head, and so get a little free advertising. “I said he ought to be able to fake a good story, but he maintained that a j newspaper could smell a faked story a mile away, and that, anyhow, all the good stunts had been pulled off. 1 agreed with him. 1 remember saying that nothing but a railroad wreck or a murder hit the public very hard these days and that I didn’t feel like wrecking the Pennsylvania limited. “He leaned over the table and looked at me. ‘Well, how about a murder, then?’ he said. ‘You get the story for your paper and 1 get some advertising for the theater. We need it. that’s sure-’ “1 laughed it off. and we separated. But at 2 o’clock Bronson called me up again. I met him in his office-at the theater, and he told me that Jennie Brice, who was out of the cast that week, had asked for a week’s vacation. She had heard of a farm at a town called Horner, and she wanted to go j there to rest. “‘Now the idea is this,’ he said. *She’s living with her husband, and ; he has threatened her life more than : once. It would be easy enough to frame up something to look as if he’d made away with her. We’d get a ■ week of excitement, more advertising • than we’d ordinarily get in a year. : You get a corking news story and find Jennie Brice at the end, getting the I credit for that Jennie gets SIOO and a rest, and Ladley, her husband, gets, say. .$200.’ (To be continued—) • I —The Mexican product problem is J difficult to solve, but the flour j problem is easy—GEß BELLE and ; NEVER FAIL. The Journal will pay your way i to the chautauqua. Read our offer in another part of the paper. —Underwear for every member ; of the family. A. W. Strieby & Son. —Get an “Innershu” reliner. ■ Guaranteed against punctures. ;, Lepper Garage. I I —Pleasing patterns in 8-cent wallpaper at the Quality Drug Store. i J. W. 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