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diff --git a/5866-h/5866-h.htm b/5866-h/5866-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4023686 --- /dev/null +++ b/5866-h/5866-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4057 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" name="linkgenerator" /> + <title> + Yollop, by George Barr McCutcheon + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} + .x-small {font-size: 75%;} + .small {font-size: 85%;} + .large {font-size: 115%;} + .x-large {font-size: 130%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent25 { margin-left: 25%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + .indent35 { margin-left: 35%;} + .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; + font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; + text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; + border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Yollop, by George Barr McCutcheon + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Yollop + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + +Release Date: June, 2004 +First Posted: September 15, 2002 [EBook #5866] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOLLOP *** + + + + +Etext produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + YOLLOP + </h1> + <h2> + By George Barr McCutcheon + </h2> + <h3> + 1922 + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>YOLLOP</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER ONE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER TWO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER THREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER FOUR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER FIVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER SIX </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + YOLLOP + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER ONE + </h2> + <p> + In the first place, Mr. Yollop knew nothing about firearms. And so, after + he had overpowered the burglar and relieved him of a fully loaded + thirty-eight, he was singularly unimpressed by the following tribute from + the bewildered and somewhat exasperated captive: + </p> + <p> + "Say, ain't you got any more sense than to tackle a man with a gun, you + chuckle-headed idiot?" (Only he did not say "chuckle-headed," and he + inserted several expletives between "say" and "ain't.") + </p> + <p> + The dazed intruder was hunched limply, in a sitting posture, over against + the wall, one hand clamped tightly to his jaw, the other being elevated in + obedience to a command that had to be thrice repeated before it found + lodgment in his whirling brain. Mr. Yollop, who seemed to be satisfied + with the holding up of but one hand, cupped his own hand at the back of + one ear, and demanded querulously: + </p> + <p> + "What say!" + </p> + <p> + "Are you hard o' hearin'?" + </p> + <p> + "Hey?" + </p> + <p> + "Well for the—say, are you deef?" + </p> + <p> + "Don't say deef. Say deaf,—as if it were spelled d-e-double f. Yes,—I + am a little hard of hearing." + </p> + <p> + "Now, how the hell did you hear—I say, HOW DID YOU HEAR ME IN THE + ROOM, if it's a fair question?" + </p> + <p> + "If you've got anything in your mouth, spit it out. I can't make out half + what you say. Sounds like 'ollo—ollo—ollo'!" + </p> + <p> + The thief opened his mouth and with his tongue instituted a visible search + for the obstruction that appeared to annoy Mr. Yollop. + </p> + <p> + "They're all here except the one I had pulled last year," he announced + vastly relieved. A sharp spasm of pain in his jaw caused him to abruptly + take advantage of a recent discovery; and while he was careful to couch + his opinions in an undertone, he told Mr. Yollop what he thought of him in + terms that would have put the hardiest pirate to blush. Something in Mr. + Yollop's eye, however, and the fidgety way in which he was fingering the + trigger of the pistol, moved him to interrupt a particularly satisfying + paean of blasphemy by breaking off short in the very middle of it to + wonder why in God's name he hadn't had sense enough to remember that all + deaf people are lip-readers. + </p> + <p> + "Spit it out!" repeated Mr. Yollop, with energy. "Don't talk with your + mouth full. I can't understand a word you say." + </p> + <p> + This was reassuring but not convincing. There was still the ominous + glitter in the speaker's eye to be reckoned with. The man on the floor + took the precaution to explain: "I hope you didn't hear what I was callin' + myself." He spoke loudly and very distinctly. + </p> + <p> + "That's better," said Mr. Yollop, his face brightening. "I was 'afraid my + hearing had got worse without my knowing it. All you have to do is to + enunciate distinctly and speak slowly like that,—as if you were + isolating the words,—so to speak,—and I can make out + everything you say. What were you calling yourself?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, just a lot of names. I'd sooner not repeat 'em if there's any women + in the house." + </p> + <p> + "Well, bless my soul, that's uncommonly thoughtful of you. My sister and + her young daughter are here to spend the holidays with me. They sleep at + the back of the apartment. Now, if you will just remain as you are,—I + dare say you'd better put up the other hand, too, if you can spare it,—I + will back up to the table here and get my listening apparatus. Now you + won't have to shout so. I don't know much about revolvers, but I assume + that all one has to do to make it go off is to press rather firmly on this + little contrivance—" + </p> + <p> + "Yes! But DON'T!" + </p> + <p> + "Not so loud! Not so loud! I'm not as deaf as all that. And don't move! I + give you fair warning. Watch me closely. If you see me shut my eyes, you + will know I'm going to shoot. Remember that, will you? The instant you + detect the slightest indication that my eyes are about to close,—dodge!" + </p> + <p> + "By thunder,—I—I wonder if you're as much of a blame fool as + you seem to be,—or are you just playing horse with me," muttered the + victim, as he raised his other hand. "I'd give ten years of my life to + know,—" + </p> + <p> + "I won't be a second," announced Mr. Yollop, backing gingerly toward the + table. With his free hand he felt for and found the rather elaborate + contraption that furnished him with the means to counteract his auricular + deficiencies. The hand holding the revolver wobbled a bit; nevertheless, + the little black hole at which the dazed robber stared as if fascinated + was amazingly steadfast in its regard for the second or perhaps the third + button of his coat. "It's a rather complicated arrangement," he went on to + explain, "but very simple once you get it adjusted to the ear. It took me + some time to get used to wearing this steel band over the top of my head. + I never have tried to put it on with one hand before. Amazing how awkward + one can be with his left hand, isn't it? Now, you see how it goes. This + little receiver business clamps right down to the ear,—so. Then this + disc hangs over my chest—and you talk right at it. For awhile I made + a practice of concealing it under my vest, being somewhat sensitive about + having strangers see that I am deaf, but one day my niece, a very bright + child often, asked me why I did it. I told her it was because I didn't + want people to know I was deaf. Have you ever felt so foolish that you + wanted to kick yourself all over town? Well, then you know how I felt when + that blessed infant pointed to this thing on my ear and—What say?" + </p> + <p> + "I say, that's the way I've been feeling ever since I came to," repeated + the disgusted burglar. + </p> + <p> + "Of course, I realize that it's a physical, you might well say, a + scientific impossibility, for one to kick himself all over town, but just + the same, I believe you are as nearly in the mood to accomplish it as any + man alive to-day." + </p> + <p> + "You bet I could," snapped the thief, with great earnestness. "When I + think how I let a skinny, half-witted boob like you walk right into a + clinch with me, and me holdin' a gun, and weighin' forty pounds more than + you do, I—Can you hear what I'm saying?" + </p> + <p> + "Perfectly. It's a wonderful invention," said Mr. Yollop, who had + approached to within four or five feet of the speaker and was bending over + to afford him every facility for planting his words squarely upon the + disc. "Speak in the same tone of voice that you would employ if I were + about thirty feet away and perfectly sound of hearing. Just imagine, if + you can, that I am out in the hall, with the door open, and you are + carrying on a conversation with me at that—" + </p> + <p> + "I've said all I want to say," growled the other sullenly. + </p> + <p> + "What is your name?" + </p> + <p> + "None of your damn business." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop was silent for a moment. Then he inquired steadily: + </p> + <p> + "Have you any recollection of receiving a blow on the jaw, and + subsequently lying on the flat of your back with my knees jouncing up and + down on your stomach while your bump of amativeness was being roughly and + somewhat regularly pounded against the wall in response to a certain + nervous and uncontrollable movement of my hands which happened to be + squeezing your windpipe so tightly that your tongue hung out and—" + </p> + <p> + "You bet I remember it!" ruefully. + </p> + <p> + "Well, then," said Mr. Yollop, "what is your name?" + </p> + <p> + "Jones." + </p> + <p> + "What?" + </p> + <p> + "I thought you said you could hear with that thing!" + </p> + <p> + "I heard you say Jones quite distinctly, but why can't you answer my + question? It was civil enough, wasn't it?" + </p> + <p> + "Well," said the crook, still decidedly uncertain as to the expression in + Mr. Yollop's eye, "if you insist on a civil answer, it's Smilk." + </p> + <p> + "Smith?" + </p> + <p> + "No, NOT Smith," hastily and earnestly; "Smilk,—S-m-i-l-k." + </p> + <p> + "Smilk?" + </p> + <p> + "Smilk." + </p> + <p> + "Extraordinary name. I've never heard it before, have you?" + </p> + <p> + The rascal blinked. "Sure. It was my father's name before me, and my—" + </p> + <p> + "Look me in the eye!" + </p> + <p> + "I am lookin' you in the eye. It's Smilk,—Cassius Smilk." + </p> + <p> + "Sounds convincing," admitted Mr. Yollop. "Nobody would take the name of + Cassius in vain, I am sure. As a sensible, discriminating thief, you would + not deliberately steal a name like Cassius, now would you?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, you see, they call me Cash for short," explained Smilk. "That's + something I can steal with a clear conscience." + </p> + <p> + "I perceive you are recovering your wits, Mr. Smilk. You appear to be a + most ingenuous rogue. Have you ever tried writing the book for a musical + comedy?" + </p> + <p> + "A—what?" + </p> + <p> + "A musical comedy. A forty-legged thing you see on Broadway." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smilk pondered. "No, sir," he replied, allowing himself a prideful + leer; "if I do say it as shouldn't, I'm an honest thief." + </p> + <p> + "Bless my soul," cried Mr. Yollop delightedly; "you get brighter every + minute. Perhaps you have at one time or another conducted a humorous + column for a Metropolitan newspaper?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, I've done my share towards fillin' up the 'lost' column," said Mr. + Smilk modestly. "Say, if we're going to keep up this talkfest much longer, + I got to let my hands down. The blood's runnin' out of 'em. What are you + goin' to do with me? Keep me sittin' here till morning?" + </p> + <p> + "I'm glad you reminded me of it. I want to call the police." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I'm not hindering you, am I?" + </p> + <p> + "In a way, yes. How can I call them and keep an eye on you at the same + time?" + </p> + <p> + "I'll tell what I'll do," said Cassius Smilk obligingly. "I'll take a + message 'round to the police station for you." + </p> + <p> + "Ah! That gives me an idea. You shall telephone to the police for me. If + my memory serves me well, Spring 3100 is the number. Or is it Spring 3100 + that calls out the fire department? It would be very awkward to call out + the fire department, wouldn't it? They'd probably come rushing around here + and drown both of us before they found out wer'd made a mistake and really + wanted the police." + </p> + <p> + "All you have to do is to say to Central: 'I want a policeman.'" + </p> + <p> + "Right you are. That's what the telephone book says. Still I believe + Spring 3100—" + </p> + <p> + "The simplest way to get the police," broke in the burglar, not without + hope, "is to fire five shots out of a window as rapidly as possible. They + always come for that." + </p> + <p> + "I see what you are after. You want them to come here and arrest me for + violating the Sullivan Law. Don't you know it's against the law in New + York to have a revolver on your premises or person? And what's more, you + would testify against me, confound you. Also probably have me up for + assault and battery. No, Mr. Smilk, your suggestion is not a good one. We + will stick to the telephone. Now, if you will be kind enough to fold your + arms tightly across your breast,—that's the idea,—and arise + slowly to your feet, I will instruct you—Yes, I know it is harder to + get up without the aid of the hands than it was to go down, but I think + you can manage it. Try again, if you please." Then, as Mr. Smilk sank + sullenly back against the wall, apparently resolved not to budge: "I'm + going to count three, Cassius. If you are not on your feet at the end of + the count, I shall be obliged to do the telephoning myself." + </p> + <p> + "That suits me," said Cassius grimly. + </p> + <p> + "Do you object to the smell of powder?" + </p> + <p> + "Huh?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't like it myself, but I should, of course, open the windows + immediately and air the room out—" + </p> + <p> + "I'll get up," said Cassius, and did so, clumsily but promptly. "Say, I—I + believe you WOULD shoot. You're just the kind of boob that would do a + thing like that." + </p> + <p> + "I dare say I should miss you if I were to fire all five bullets,—but + that's neither here nor there. You're on your feet, so—by the way, + are you sure this thing is loaded?" + </p> + <p> + "It wouldn't make any difference if it wasn't. It would go off just the + same. They always do when some darn fool idiot is pointin' them at + people." + </p> + <p> + "Don't be crotchetty, Cassius," reproached Mr. Yollop. "Now, if you will + just sidle around to the left you will come in due time to the telephone + over there on that desk. I shall not be far behind you. Sit down. Now + unfold your arms and lean both elbows on the desk. That's the idea. You + might keep your right hand exposed,—sort of perpendicular from the + elbow up. Take the receiver off the hook and—" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, I know how to use a telephone all right." + </p> + <p> + "Now, the main thing is to get Central," said Mr. Yollop imperturbably. + "Sometimes it is very difficult to wake them after two o'clock A.M. Just + jiggle it if she doesn't respond at once. Seems that jiggling wakes them + when nothing else will." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop, very tall and spare in his pajamas, stood behind the burly Mr. + Smilk, the dangling disc almost touching the latter's hunched up + shoulders. + </p> + <p> + "This is a devil of a note," quoth Mr. Smilk, taking down the receiver. + "Makin' a guy telephone to the police to come and arrest him." + </p> + <p> + "I wish I had thought to close that window while you were hors de combat," + complained Mr. Yollop shivering. "I'll probably catch my death of cold + standing around here with almost nothing on. That wind comes straight from + the North Pole. Doesn't she answer?" + </p> + <p> + "No." + </p> + <p> + "Jiggle it." + </p> + <p> + "I did jiggle it." + </p> + <p> + "What?" + </p> + <p> + "I said I jiggled it." + </p> + <p> + "Well, jiggle it again." + </p> + <p> + "Rottenest telephone service in the world," growled Mr. Smilk. "When you + think what we have to pay for telephones these days, you'd think—hello! + Hell—lo!" + </p> + <p> + "Got her?" + </p> + <p> + "I thought I had for a second, but I guess it was somebody yawning." + </p> + <p> + "Awning?" + </p> + <p> + "Say, if you'll hold that thing around so's I can talk at it, you'll hear + what I'm saying. How do you expect me to—hello! Central? Central! + Hello! Where the hell have you been all—hello! Well, can you beat + it? I had her and she got away." + </p> + <p> + "No use trying to get her now," said Mr. Yollop, resignedly. "Hang up for + a few minutes. It makes 'em stubborn when you swear at 'em. Like mules. + I've just thought of something else you can do for me while we're waiting + for her to make up her mind to forgive you. Come along over here and close + this window you left open." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smilk in closing the window, looked searchingly up and down the fire + escape, peered intently into the street below, sighed profoundly and + muttered something that Mr. Yollop did not hear. + </p> + <p> + "I've got a fur coat hanging in that closet over there, Cassius. We will + get it out." + </p> + <p> + Carefully following Mr. Yollop's directions, the obliging rascal produced + the coat and laid it upon the table in the center of the room. + </p> + <p> + "Turn your back," commanded the owner of the coat, "and hold up your + hands." Then, after he had slipped into the coat: "Now if I only had my + slippers—but never mind. We won't bother about 'em. They're in my + bed room, and probably lost under the bed. They always are, even when I + take 'em off out in the middle of the room. Ah! Nothing like a fur coat, + Cassius. Do you know what cockles are?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I don't." + </p> + <p> + "Well, never mind. Now, let's try Central again. Please remember that no + matter how distant she is, she still expects you to look upon her as a + lady. No lady likes to be sworn at at two o'clock in the morning. Speak + gently to her. Call her Madamoiselle. That always gets them. Makes 'em + think if they keep their ears open they'll hear something spicy." + </p> + <p> + "They general fall for dearie," said Mr. Smilk, taking down the receiver. + </p> + <p> + "Be good enough to remember that you are calling from my apartment," said + Mr. Yollop severely. "Jiggle it." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smilk jiggled it. "I guess she's still mad." + </p> + <p> + "Jiggle it slowly, tenderly, caressingly. Sort of seductively. Don't be so + savage about it." + </p> + <p> + "Hello! Central? What number do I have to call to get Spring 3100? ... I'm + not trying to be fresh: ... Yes, that's what I want ... I know the book + says to tell you 'I want to call a policeman' but— ... Yes, there's + a burglar in my apartment and I want you to—What's that? ... I don't + want to go to bed. ... Say, now YOU'RE gettin' fresh. You give me police—" + </p> + <p> + "Tell her I've got you surrounded," whispered Mr. Yollop. + </p> + <p> + "Hello! Hell—lo! Central!" + </p> + <p> + "Jiggle it." + </p> + <p> + "Ah, Mademoiselle! Pardon my—" + </p> + <p> + Voice at the other end of the wire: "Ring off! You've got wrong number. + This is police headquarters." Audible sound of distant receiver being + slapped upon its hook. + </p> + <p> + "Gee whiz! Now, we're up against it, Mister. We'll be all night gettin' + Central again." + </p> + <p> + "Be patient, Cassius. Start all over again. Ask for the morgue this time. + That will make her realize the grave danger you are in." + </p> + <p> + "Say, I wish you'd put that gun in your pocket. It makes the goose flesh + creep out all over me. I'm not going to try to get away. Give you my word + of honor I ain't. You seem to have some sort of idea that I don't want to + be arrested." + </p> + <p> + "I confess I had some such idea, Cassius." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I don't mind it a bit. Fact is, I've been doin' my best to get + nabbed for the last three months." + </p> + <p> + "You have?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure. The trouble is with the police. They somehow seem to overlook me, + no matter how open I am about it. I suppose I've committed twenty + burglaries in the past three months and I'll be cussed if I can make 'em + understand. Take to-night, for instance. I clumb up that fire escape,—this + is the third floor, ain't it?—I clumb up here with a big electric + street light shinin' square on my back,—why, darn the luck, I had to + turn my back on it 'cause the light hurt my eyes,—and there were two + cops standin' right down below here talkin' about the crime wave bein' all + bunk, both of 'em arguin' that the best proof that there ain't no crime + wave is the fact that the jails are only half full, showin' that the city + is gettin' more and more honest all the time. I could hear 'em plain as + anything. They were talkin' loud, so as to make everybody in this buildin' + rest easy, I guess. I stopped at the second floor and monkeyed with the + window, hopin' to attract their attention. Didn't work. So I had to climb + up another flight. This window of yours was up about six inches, so there + wasn't anything for me to do but to raise it and come in. What I had in + mind was to stick my head out after a minute or two and yell 'thieves', + 'police', and so on. Then before I knowed what was happenin', you walks + in, switches on the light, and comes straight over and biffs me in the + jaw. Does that look as if I was tryin' to avoid arrest?" + </p> + <p> + "That's a very pretty story, Cassius, and no doubt will make a tremendous + hit with the jury, but what were you doing with a loaded revolver in your + hand, and why were you so full of vituperation,—I mean, what made + you swear so when I—" + </p> + <p> + "You let somebody hit you a wallop on the jaw and bang your head against + the wall and dance on your ribs, and you'll cuss worse than I did." + </p> + <p> + "But,—about the revolver?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, to be honest with you, I probably would have shot you if I hadn't + been so low in my mind. I won't deny that. It's a sort of principle with + us, you see. No self-respecting burglar wants to be captured by the party + he's tryin' to rob. Its so damn' mortifyin'. Besides, if that sort of + thing happens to you, the police lose all kinds of respect for you and try + to use you as a stool-pigeon, if you know what that means." + </p> + <p> + "This is most interesting, I must say. I should like to hear more about + it, Mr. Smilk. I dare say we can have quite a long and edifying chat while + we are waiting for the police to respond to our call for help. In the + meantime, you might see if you can get them now. Spring, three one + hundred." + </p> + <p> + "As I was sayin' awhile ago, would you mind puttin' that gun in your + pocket?" + </p> + <p> + "While you've been chinning, Cassius, I have been making a most thrilling + and amazing experiment. Do you call this thing under here a trigger?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes. Don't monkey with it, you—you—" + </p> + <p> + "I've been pressing it,—very gently and cautiously, of course,—to + see just how near I can come to making it go off without actually—" + </p> + <p> + "For God's sake! Cut that—Hey, Central! Give me police headquarters + again. ... Lively, please. ... Yes, it's life or death. ... Come on, + Mademoiselle,—please!" + </p> + <p> + "That's the way," complimented Mr. Yollop. + </p> + <p> + "By gosh, nobody ever wanted the police more than I do at this minute," + gulped Mr. Smilk. He was perspiring freely. "Hello! Police headquarters? + ... Hustle someone to—to—(over his shoulder to Mr. Yollop, in + a whisper,)—quick! What's the number of this,—" + </p> + <p> + "418 Sagamore Terrace." + </p> + <p> + Into the transmitter: "To 418 Sagamore Terrace, third floor front. + Burglar. Hurry up!" + </p> + <p> + Telephone: "What's yer name?" + </p> + <p> + Smilk, to Yollop: "What is my name?" + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop: "Crittenden Yollop." + </p> + <p> + Smilk, to telephone: "Crittelyum Yop." + </p> + <p> + Telephone, languidly: "Spell it." + </p> + <p> + Smilk: "Aw, go to—" + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop: "After me now,—Y-o-l-l-o-p." + </p> + <p> + Telephone: "First name." + </p> + <p> + Smilk, prompted. "C-r-i-t-t-e-n-d-e-n." + </p> + <p> + Telephone, after interval: "What floor?" + </p> + <p> + Smilk: "Third." + </p> + <p> + Telephone: "Are you sure it's a burglar, or is it just a noise somewhere?" + </p> + <p> + Smilk: "It's a burglar. He's got me covered." + </p> + <p> + Telephone: "What's that?" + </p> + <p> + Smilk: "I say, I've got him covered. Hurry up or he'll blow my head off—" + </p> + <p> + Telephone: "Say, what IS this? Get back to bed, you. You're drunk." + </p> + <p> + Smilk: "I'm as sober as you are. Can't you get me straight? I tell you I + beat his head off. He's down and out,—but—-" + </p> + <p> + Telephone: "All right. We'll have someone there in a few minutes. Did you + say Yullup?" + </p> + <p> + Smilk: "No. I said hurry up." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER TWO + </h2> + <p> + "The thing that's troubling me now," said Mr. Yollop, as Smilk hung up the + receiver and twisted his head slightly to peek out of the corner of his + eye, "is how to get hold of my slippers. You've no idea how cold this + floor is." + </p> + <p> + "If it's half as cold as the sweat I'm—-" + </p> + <p> + "We're likely to have a long wait," went on the other, frowning. "It will + probably take the police a couple of hours to find this building, with + absolutely no clue except the number and the name of the street." + </p> + <p> + "I'll tell you what you might do, Mr. Scollop, seein' as you won't trust + me to go in and find your slippers for you. Why don't you sit on your + feet? Take that big arm chair over there and—" + </p> + <p> + "Splendid! By jove, Cassius, you are an uncommonly clever chap. I'll do + it. And then, when the police arrive, we'll have something for them to do. + We'll let them see if they can find my slippers. That ought to be really + quite interesting." + </p> + <p> + "There's something about you," said Mr. Smilk, not without a touch of + admiration in his voice, "that I simply can't help liking." + </p> + <p> + "That's what the wolf said to Little Red Riding-Hood, if I remember + correctly. However, I thank you, Cassius. In spite of the thump I gave you + and the disgusting way in which I treated you, a visitor in my own house, + you express a liking for me. It is most gratifying. Still, for the time + being, I believe we can be much better friends if I keep this pistol + pointed at you. Now we 'll do a little maneuvering. You may remain seated + where you are. However, I must ask you to pull out the two lower drawers + in the desk,—one on either side of where your knees go. You will + find them quite empty and fairly commodious. Now, put your right foot in + the drawer on this side and your left foot in the other one—yes, I + know it's quite a stretch, but I dare say you can manage it. Sort of + recalls the old days when evil-doers were put in the stocks, doesn't it? + They seem to be quite a snug fit, don't they? If it is as difficult for + you to extricate your feet from those drawers as it was to insert them, I + fancy I'm pretty safe from a sudden and impulsive dash in my direction. + Rather bright idea of mine, eh?" + </p> + <p> + "I'm beginnin' to change my opinion of you," announced Mr. Smilk. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop pushed a big unholstered library chair up to the opposite side + of the desk and, after several awkward attempts, succeeded in sitting + down, tailor fashion, with his feet neatly tucked away beneath him. + </p> + <p> + "I wasn't quite sure I could do it," said he, rather proudly. "I suppose + my feet will go to sleep in a very short time, but I am assuming, Cassius, + that you are too much of a gentleman to attack a man whose feet are + asleep." + </p> + <p> + "I wouldn't even attack you if they were snoring," said Cassius, grinning + in spite of himself. "Say, this certainly beats anything I've ever come up + against. If one of my pals was to happen to look in here right now and see + me with my feet in these drawers and you squattin' on yours,—well, I + can't help laughin' myself, and God knows I hate to." + </p> + <p> + "You were saying a little while ago," said Mr. Yollop, shifting his + position slightly, "that you rather fancy the idea of being arrested. + Isn't that a little quixotic, Mr. Smilk?" + </p> + <p> + "Huh?" + </p> + <p> + "I mean to say, do you expect me to believe you when you say you relish + being arrested?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't care a whoop whether you believe it or not. It's true." + </p> + <p> + "Have you no fear of the law?" + </p> + <p> + "Bless your heart, sir, I don't know how I'd keep body and soul together + if it wasn't for the law. If people would only let the law alone, I'd be + one of the happiest guys on earth. But, damn 'em, they won't let it alone. + First, they put their heads together and frame up this blasted parole game + on us. Just about the time we begin to think we're comfortably settled up + the river, 'long comes some doggone home-wrecker and gets us out on + parole. Then we got to go to work and begin all over again. Sometimes, the + way things are nowadays, it takes months to get back into the pen again. + We got to live, ain't we? We got to eat, ain't we? Well, there you are. + Why can't they leave us alone instead of drivin' us out into a cold, + unfeelin' world where we got to either steal or starve to death? There + wouldn't be one tenth as much stealin' and murderin' as there is if they + didn't force us into it. Why, doggone it, I've seen some of the most cruel + and pitiful sights you ever heard of up there at Sing Sing. Fellers + leadin' a perfectly honest life suddenly chucked out into a world full of + vice and iniquity and forced—absolutely forced,—into a life of + crime. There they were, livin' a quiet, peaceful life, harmin' nobody, and + bing! they wake up some mornin' and find themselves homeless. Do you + realize what that means, Mr. Strumpet? It means—" + </p> + <p> + "Yollop, if you please." + </p> + <p> + "It means they got to go out and slug some innocent citizen, some poor guy + that had nothing whatever to do with drivin' them out, and then if they + happen to be caught they got to go through with all the uncertainty of a + trial by jury, never knowin' but what some pin-headed juror will stick out + for acquittal and make it necessary to go through with it all over again. + And more than that, they got to listen to the testimony of a lot of + policemen, and their own derned fool lawyers, tryin' to deprive them of + their bread and butter, and the judge's instructions that nobody pays any + attention to except the shorthand reporter,—and them just settin' + there sort of helpless and not even able to say a word in their own behalf + because the law says they're innocent till they're proved guilty,—why, + I tell you, Mr. Dewlap, it's heart-breakin'. And all because some + weak-minded smart aleck gets them paroled. As I was sayin', the law's all + right if it wasn't for the people that abuse it." + </p> + <p> + "This is most interesting," said Mr. Yollop. "I've never quite understood + why ninety per cent of the paroled convicts go back to the penitentiary so + soon after they've been liberated." + </p> + <p> + "Of course," explained Mr. Smilk, "there are a few that don't get back. + That's because, in their anxiety to make good, they get killed by some + inexperienced policeman who catches 'em comin' out of somebody's window or—" + </p> + <p> + "By the way, Cassius, let me interrupt you. Will you have a cigar? Nice, + pleasant way to pass an hour or two—beg pardon?" + </p> + <p> + "I was only sayin', if you don't mind I'll take one of these cigarettes. + Cigars are a little too heavy for me." + </p> + <p> + "I have some very light grade domestic—" + </p> + <p> + "I don't mean in quality. I mean in weight. What's the sense of wastin' a + lot of strength holding a cigar in your mouth when it requires no effort + at all to smoke a cigarette? Why, I got it all figured out scientifically. + With the same amount of energy you expend in smokin' one cigar you could + smoke between thirty and forty cigarettes, and being sort of gradual, you + wouldn't begin to feel half as fatigued as if you—" + </p> + <p> + "Did I understand you to say 'scientifically', or was it satirically?" + </p> + <p> + "I'm tryin' to use common, every-day words, Mr. Shallop," said Mr. Smilk, + with dignity, "and I wish you'd do the same." + </p> + <p> + "Ahem! Well, light up, Cassius. I think I'll smoke a cigar. When you get + through with the matches, push 'em over this way, will you? Help yourself + to those chocolate creams. There's a pound box of them at your elbow, + Cassius. I eat a great many. They're supposed to be fattening. Help + yourself." After lighting his cigar Mr. Yollop inquired: "By the way, + since you speak so feelingly I gather that you are a paroled convict." + </p> + <p> + "That's what I am. And the worst of it is, it ain't my first offense. I + mean it ain't the first time I've been paroled. To begin with, when I was + somewhat younger than I am now, I was twice turned loose by judges on what + they call 'suspended sentences.' Then I was sent up for two years for + stealin' something or other,—I forgot just what it was. I served my + time and a little later on went up again for three years for holdin' up a + man over in Brooklyn. Well, I got paroled out inside of two years, and for + nearly six months I had to report to the police ever' so often. Every time + I reported I had my pockets full of loot I'd snitched durin' the month, + stuff the bulls were lookin' for in every pawn-shop in town, but to save + my soul I couldn't somehow manage to get myself caught with the goods on + me. Say, I'd give two years off of my next sentence if I could cross my + legs for five or ten minutes. This is gettin' worse and worse all the—" + </p> + <p> + "You might try putting your left foot in the right hand drawer and your + right foot in the other one," suggested Mr. Yollop. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smilk stared. "I've seen a lot of kidders in my time, but you + certainly got 'em all skinned to death," said he. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop puffed reflectively for awhile, pondering the situation. "Well, + suppose you remove one foot at a time, Cassius. As soon it is fairly well + rested, put it back again and then take the other one out for a spell,—and + so on. Half a loaf is better than no loaf at all." + </p> + <p> + Smilk withdrew his left foot from its drawer and sighed gratefully. + </p> + <p> + "As I was sayin'," he resumed, "if we could only put some kind of a curb + on these here tender-hearted boobs—and boobesses—the world + would be a much better place to live in. The way it is now, nine tenths of + the fellers up in Sing Sing never know when they'll have to pack up and + leave, and it's a constant strain on the nerves, I tell you. There seems + to be a well-organized movement to interfere with the personal liberty of + criminals, Mr. Poppup. These here sentimental reformers take it upon + themselves to say whether a feller shall stay in prison or not. First, + they come up there and pick out some poor helpless feller and say 'it's a + crime to keep a good-lookin', intelligent boy like you in prison, so we're + going to get you out on parole and make an honest, upright citizen of you. + We're going to get you a nice job',—and so on and so forth. Well, + before he knows it, he's out and has to put up a bluff of workin' for a + livin'. Course, he just has to go to stealin' again. It makes him sore + when he thinks of the good, honest life he was leadin' up there in the + pen, with nothin' to worry about, satisfactory hours, plenty to eat, and + practically divorced from his wife without havin' to go through the mill. + If my calculations are correct, more than fifty per cent of the crime + that's bein' committed these days is the work of paroled convicts who + depended on the law to protect and support them for a given period of + time. And does the law protect them? It does not. It allows a lot of + pinheads to interfere with it, and what's the answer? A lot of poor devils + are forced to go out and risk their lives tryin' to—" + </p> + <p> + "Just a moment, please," interrupted Mr. Yollop. "You are talking a trifle + too fast, Cassius. Moderate your speed a little. Before we go any further, + I would like to be set straight on one point. Do you mean to tell me that + you actually prefer being in prison?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, now, that's a difficult question to answer," mused Mr. Smilk. + "Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. It's sort of like being married, I + suppose. Sometimes you're glad you're married and sometimes you wish to + God you wasn't. Course, I've only been married three or four times, and + I've been in the pen six times, one place or another, so I guess I'm not + what you'd call an unbiased witness. I seem to have a leanin' toward jail,—about + three to one in favor of jail, you might say, with the odds likely to be + increased pretty shortly if all goes well. Do you mind if I change + drawers?" + </p> + <p> + "Eh! Oh, I see. Go ahead." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smilk put his right foot back into its drawer and withdrew the left. + </p> + <p> + "Gets you right across this tendon on the back of your ankle," he said. + "Now, you take the daily life of the average laboring man," he went on + earnestly. "What does he get out of it? Nothin' but expenses. The only + thing that don't cost him something is work. And all the time he's at work + his expenses are goin' on just the same, pilin' up durin' his absence from + home. Rent, food, fuel, light, doctor, liquor, clothes, shoes,—everything + pilin' up on him while he's workin' for absolutely nothin' between pay + days. The only time he gets anything for his work is on pay day. The rest + of the time he's workin' for nothin', week in and week out. Say he works + forty-four hours a week. When does he get his pay? While he's workin'? Not + much. He has to work over time anywhere from fifteen minutes to half an + hour—on his own time, mind you—standin' in line to get his pay + envelope. And then when he gets it, what does he have to do? He has to go + home and wonder how the hell he's goin' to get through the next week with + nothin' but carfare to go on after his wife has told him to come across. + Now you take a convict. He hasn't an expense in the world. Free grub, free + bed, free doctor, free clothes,—he could have free liquor if the + keepers would let his friends bring it in,—and his hours ain't any + longer than any union man's hours. He don't have to pay dues to any labor + union, he don't have to worry about strikes or strike benefits, he don't + give a whoop what Gompers or anybody else says about Gary, and he don't + care a darn whether the working man gets his beer or whether the revenue + officers get it. He—" + </p> + <p> + "Wait a second, please. Just as a matter of curiosity, Cassius, I'd like + to know what your views are on prohibition." + </p> + <p> + "Are you thinkin' of askin' me if I'll have something to drink?" inquired + Mr. Smilk craftily. + </p> + <p> + "What has that to do with it?" + </p> + <p> + "A lot," said Mr. Smilk, with decision. + </p> + <p> + "Do you approve of prohibition?" + </p> + <p> + "I do," said the rogue. "In moderation." + </p> + <p> + "Well, as soon as the police arrive I'll open a bottle of Scotch. In the + meantime go ahead with your very illuminating dissertation. I am beginning + to understand why crime is so attractive, so alluring. I am almost able to + see why you fellows like to go to the penitentiary." + </p> + <p> + "If you could only get shut up for a couple of years, Mr. Wollop, you'd + appreciate just what has been done in the last few years to make us + fellers like it. You wouldn't believe how much the reformers have done to + induce us to come back as soon as possible. They give us all kinds of + entertainment, free of charge. Three times a week we have some sort of a + show, generally a band concert, a movin' picture show and a vaudeville + show. Then, once a month they bring up some crackin' good show right out + of a Broadway theater to make us forget that it's Sunday and we'll have to + go to work the next morning. Scenery and costumes and everything and—and—" + Here Mr. Smilk showed signs of blubbering, a weakness that suddenly gave + way to the most energetic indignation. "Why, doggone it, every time I + think of what that woman done to me, I could bite a nail in two. If it + hadn't been for—" + </p> + <p> + "Woman? What woman?" + </p> + <p> + "The woman that got me paroled out. She got I don't know how many people + to sign a petition, sayin' I was a fine feller and all that kind o' bunk, + and all I needed was a chance to show the world how honest I am and—why, + of course, I was honest. How could I help bein' honest up there? What's + eatin' the darn fools? The only thing you can steal up there is a nap, and + you got to be mighty slick if you want to do that, they watch you so + close. But do you know what's going on in this country right now, Mr. + Popple? There's a regular organized band of law-breakers operating from + one end of the nation to the other. We're tryin' to bust it up, but it's a + tough job. The best way to reform a reformer is to rob him. The minute he + finds out he's been robbed he turns over a new leaf and begins to beller + like a bull about how rotten the police are. Ninety nine times out of a + hundred he quits his cussed interferin' with the law and becomes a decent, + law-observin' citizen. Our scheme is to get busy as soon as we've been + turned loose and while our so-called benefactors are still rejoicin' over + havin' snatched a brand from the burnin', we up and show 'em the error of + their ways. First offenders get off fairly easy. We simply sneak in and + take their silver and some loose jewelry. The more hardened they are, the + worse we treat 'em. Ring leaders some times get beat up so badly it's + impossible to identify 'em at the morgue. But in time we'll smash the + gang, and then if a feller goes up for ten, twenty or even thirty years + he'll know there's no underhanded work goin' on and he can settle down to + an honest life. The only way to stop crime in this country, Mr. Yollop, is + to—" + </p> + <p> + "Thank you." + </p> + <p> + "—is to make EVERYBODY respect the law. And with conditions so + pleasant and so happy in the prison I want to tell you there's nobody in + the country that respects and admires the law more than we do,—'specially + us fellers that remember what the penitentiaries used to be like a few + years ago when conditions were so tough that most of us managed to earn an + honest livin' outside sooner than run the risk of gettin' sent up." He + sighed deeply. Then with a trace of real solicitude in his manner: "Are + your feet warm yet?" + </p> + <p> + "Warm as toast. Your discourse, Cassius, has moved me deeply. Perhaps it + would comfort you to call up police headquarters again and tell 'em to + hurry along?" + </p> + <p> + "Wouldn't be a bad idea," said Mr. Smilk. He took down the receiver. + Presently: "Police headquarters? ... How about sending over to 418 + Sagamore for that burglar I was speakin' to you about recently? ... Sure, + he's here yet. ... The same name I gave you earlier in the evening. ... + Spell it yourself. You got it written down on a pad right there in front + of you, haven't you? ... Say, if you don't get somebody around here pretty + quick, I'm goin' to call up two or three of the newspaper offices and have + 'em send—... All right. See that you do." Turning to Mr. Yollop, he + said: "The police are a pretty decent lot when you get to know 'em, Mr. + Yollop. They do their share towards enforcin' the law. They do their best + to get us the limit. The trouble is, they got to fight tooth and nail + against almost everybody that ain't on the police force. Specially + jurymen. There ain't a juryman in New York City that wants to believe a + policeman on oath. He'd sooner believe a crook, any day. And sometimes the + judges are worse than the juries. A pal of mine, bein' in considerable of + a hurry to get back home one very cold winter, figured that if he went up + and plead guilty before a judge he'd save a lot of time. Well, sir, the + doggone judge looked him over for a minute or two, and suddenly, out of a + clear sky, asked him if he had a family,—and when he acknowledged, + being an honest though ignorant guy, that he had a wife and three + children, the judge said, if he'd promise to go out and earn a livin' for + them he'd let him off with a suspended sentence, and before he had a + chance to say he'd be damned if he'd make any such fool promise, the + bailiff hustled him out the runway and told him to 'beat it'. He had to go + out and slug a poor old widow woman and rob her of all the money she'd + saved since her husband died—say, that reminds me. I got a favor I'd + like to ask of you, Mr. Yollop." + </p> + <p> + "I'm inclined to grant almost any favor you may ask," said Mr. Yollop, + sympathetically. "I know how miserable you must feel, Cassius, and how + hard life is for you. Do you want me to shoot you?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I don't," exclaimed Mr. Smilk hastily. "I want you to take my roll of + bills and hide it before the police come. That ain't much to ask, is it?" + </p> + <p> + "Bless my soul! How extraordinary!" + </p> + <p> + "There's something over six hundred dollars in the roll," went on Cassius + confidentially. "It ain't that I'm afraid the cops will grab it for + themselves, understand. But, you see, it's like this. The first thing the + judge asks you when you are arraigned is whether you got the means to + employ a lawyer. If you ain't, he appoints some one and it don't cost you + a cent. Now, if I go down to the Tombs with all this money, why, by gosh, + it will cost me just that much to get sent to Sing Sing, 'cause whatever + you've got in the shape of real money is exactly what your lawyer's fee + will be, and it don't seem sensible to spend all that money to get sent up + when you can obtain the same result for nothin'. Ain't that so?" + </p> + <p> + "It sounds reasonable, Cassius. You appear to be a thrifty as well as an + honest fellow. But, may I be permitted to ask what the devil you are doing + with six hundred dollars on your person while actively engaged in the + pursuit of your usual avocation? Why didn't you leave it at home?" + </p> + <p> + "Home? My God, man, don't you know it ain't safe these days to have a lot + of money around the house? With all these burglaries going on? Not on your + life. Even if I had had all this dough when I left home to-night, I + wouldn't have taken any such chance as leavin' it there. The feller I'm + roomin' with is figurin' on turning over a new leaf; he's thinkin' of + gettin' married for five or six months and I don't think he could stand + temptation." + </p> + <p> + "Do you mean to say, you acquired your roll after leaving home tonight, + eh?" + </p> + <p> + "To be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Moppup, I—" + </p> + <p> + "Yollop, please." + </p> + <p> + "—Yollop, I found this money in front of a theater up town,—just + after the police nabbed a friend of mine who had frisked some guy of his + roll and had to drop it in a hurry." + </p> + <p> + "And you want me to keep it for you till you are free again,—is that + it?" + </p> + <p> + "Just as soon as the trial is over and I get my sentence, I'll send a pal + of mine around to you with a note and you can turn it over to him. All I'm + after, is to keep some lawyer from gettin'—" + </p> + <p> + "What would you say, Cassius, if I were to tell you that I am a lawyer?" + </p> + <p> + "I'd say you're a darned fool to confess when you don't have to," replied + Mr. Smilk succinctly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop chuckled. "Well, I'm not a lawyer. Nevertheless, I must decline + to act as a depository for your obviously ill-gotten gains." + </p> + <p> + "Gee, that's tough," lamented Mr. Smilk. "Wouldn't you just let me drop it + behind something or other,—that book case over there say,—and + I'll promise to send for it some night when you're out,—" + </p> + <p> + "No use, Cassius," broke in Mr. Yollop, firmly. "I'm deaf to your + entreaties. Permit me to paraphrase a very well-known line. 'None so deaf + as him who will not hear.'" + </p> + <p> + "If I speak very slowly and distinctly don't you think you could hear me + if I was to offer to split the wad even with you,—fifty-fifty,—no + questions asked?" inquired Cassius, rather wistfully. + </p> + <p> + "See here," exclaimed Mr. Yollop, irritably; "you got me in this position + and I want you to get me out of it. While I've been squatting here + listening to you, they've both gone to sleep and I'm hanged if I can move + 'em. I never would have dreamed of sitting on them if you hadn't put the + idea into my head, confound you." + </p> + <p> + "Let 'em hang down for a while," suggested Mr. Smilk. "That'll wake 'em + up." + </p> + <p> + "Easier said than done," snapped the other. He managed, however, to get + his benumbed feet to the floor and presently stood up on them. Mr. Smilk + watched him with interest as he hobbled back and forth in front of the + desk. "They'll be all right in a minute or two. By Jove, I wish my sister + could have heard all you've been saying about prisons and paroles and + police. I ought to have had sense enough to call her. She's asleep at the + other end of the hall." + </p> + <p> + "I hate women," growled Mr. Smilk. "Ever since that pie-faced dame got me + chucked out of Sing Sing,—say, let me tell you something else she + done to me. She gave me an address somewhere up on the East Side and told + me to come and see her as soon as I got out. Well, I hadn't been out a + week when I went up to see her one night,—or, more strictly + speakin', one morning about two o'clock. What do you think? It was an + empty house, with a 'for rent' sign on it. I found out the next day she'd + moved a couple of weeks before and had gone to some hotel for the winter + because it was impossible to keep any servants while this crime wave is + goin' on. The janitor told me she'd had three full sets of servants stole + right out from under her nose by female bandits over on Park Avenue. I + don't suppose I'll ever have another chance to get even with her. + Everything all set to bind and gag her, and maybe rap her over the bean a + couple of times and—say, can you beat it for rotten luck? She—she + double-crossed me, that's what she—" + </p> + <p> + A light, hesitating rap on the library door interrupted Mr. Smilk's bitter + reflection. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER THREE + </h2> + <p> + "Some one at the door," the burglar announced, after a moment. Mr. Yollop + had failed to hear the tapping. + </p> + <p> + "You can't fool me, Cassius. It's an old trick but it won't work. I've + seen it done on the stage too many times to be caught napping by,—" + </p> + <p> + "There it goes again. Louder, please!" he called with considerable + vehemence and was rewarded by a scarcely audible tapping indicative not + only of timidity but of alarm as well—"Say," he bawled, "you'll have + to cut out that spirit rapping if you want to come in. Use your + night-stick!" + </p> + <p> + "Ah, the police at last," cried Mr. Yollop. "You'd better take this + revolver now, Mr. Smilk," he added hastily. "I won't want 'em to catch me + with a weapon in my possession. It means a heavy fine or imprisonment." He + shoved the pistol across the desk. "They wouldn't believe me if I said it + was yours." + </p> + <p> + A sharp, penetrating rat-a-tat on the door. Mr. Smilk picked up the + revolver. + </p> + <p> + "You bet they wouldn't," said he. "If I swore on a stack of bibles I let a + boob like you take it away from me, they'd send me to Matteawan, and God + knows,—" + </p> + <p> + "Come in!" called out Mr. Yollop. + </p> + <p> + The door opened and a plump, dumpy lady in a pink peignoir, her front hair + done up in curl-papers stood revealed on the threshold blinking in the + strong light. + </p> + <p> + "Goodness gracious, Crittenden," she cried irritably, "don't you know what + time of night it—" + </p> + <p> + She broke off abruptly as Mr. Smilk, with a great clatter, yanked his + remaining foot from the drawer and arose, overturning the swivel-chair in + his haste. + </p> + <p> + "Well, for the love of—" oozed from his gaping mouth. Suddenly he + turned his face away and hunched one shoulder up as a sort of shield. + </p> + <p> + "It's long past three o'clock," went on the newcomer severely. "I'm sorry + to interrupt a conference but I do think you might arrange for an + appointment during the day, sir. My brother has not been well and if ever + a man needed sleep and rest and regular hours, he does. Crittenden, I wish + you—" + </p> + <p> + "Cassius," interrupted Mr. Yollop urbanely, "this is my sister, Mrs. + Champney. I want you to repeat—Turn around here, can't you? What's + the matter with you?" + </p> + <p> + "Don't order me around like that," muttered Mr. Smilk, still with his face + averted. "I've got the gun now and I'll do as I damn' please. You can't + talk to me like—" + </p> + <p> + "Goodness! Who is this man?" cried the lady, stopping short to regard the + blasphemer with shocked, disapproving eyes. "And what is he doing with a + revolver in his hand?" + </p> + <p> + "Give me that pistol,—at once," commanded Mr. Yollop. "Hand it + over!" + </p> + <p> + "Not on your life," cried Mr. Smilk triumphantly. He faced Mrs. Champney. + "Take off them rings, you. Put 'em here on the desk. Lively, now! And + don't yelp! Do you get me? DON'T YELP!" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Champney stared unblinkingly, speechless. + </p> + <p> + "Put up your hands, Yollop!" ordered Mr. Smilk. + </p> + <p> + "Why,—why, it's Ernest,—Ernest Wilson," she gasped, + incredulously. Then, with a little squeak of relief: "Don't pay any + attention to him, Crittenden. He is a friend of mine. Don't you remember + me, Ernest? I am—" + </p> + <p> + "You bet your life I remember you," said the burglar softly, almost + purringly. + </p> + <p> + "Ernest your grandmother," cried Mr. Yollop jerking the disk first one way + and then the other in order to catch the flitting duologue. "His name is + Smilk,—Cassius Smilk." + </p> + <p> + "Nothing of the sort," said Mrs. Champney sharply. "It's Ernest Wilson,—isn't + it, Ernest?" + </p> + <p> + "Take off them rings," was the answer she got. + </p> + <p> + "What is this man doing here, Crittenden?" demanded Mrs. Champney, paying + no heed to Smilk's command. + </p> + <p> + "He's a burglar," replied Mr. Yollop. "I guess you'd better take off your + rings, Alice." + </p> + <p> + "Do you mean to tell me, Ernest Wilson, that you've gone back to your evil + ways after all I,—" + </p> + <p> + "I say, Cassius," cried Mr. Yollop, "is this the woman you wanted to bind + and gag and—and—" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, and rap over the bean," finished Mr. Smilk, as the speaker + considerately refrained. + </p> + <p> + "Rap over the—what?" inquired Mrs. Champney, squinting. + </p> + <p> + "The bean," said Mr. Smilk, with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + "I can't imagine what has come over you, Ernest. You were such a nice, + quiet, model prisoner,—one of the most promising I ever had anything + to do with. The authorities assured me that you—do you mean to tell + me that you entered this apartment for the purpose of robbing it? Don't + answer! I don't want to hear your voice again. You have given me the + greatest disappointment of my life. I trusted you, Ernest,—I had + faith in you,—and—and now I find you here in my own brother's + apartment, of all places in the world, still pursuing your-" + </p> + <p> + "Well, you went and moved away on me," broke in Smilk wrathfully. + </p> + <p> + "That's right, Alice," added Mr. Yollop. "You went and moved on him. He + told me that just before you came in." + </p> + <p> + "You may as well understand right now, Ernest Wilson, that I shall never + intercede for you again," said Mrs. Champney sternly. "I shall let you rot + in prison. I am through with you. You don't deserve—" + </p> + <p> + "Are you goin' to take off them rings, or have I got to—" + </p> + <p> + "Would you rob your benefactress?" demanded the lady. + </p> + <p> + "Every time I think of all that you robbed me of, I—I—" began + Mr. Smilk, shakily. + </p> + <p> + "Don't blubber, Cassius," said Mr. Yollop consolingly. "You see, my dear + Alice, Mr. Smilk thinks,—and maintains,—that you did him a + dirty trick when you had him turned out into a wicked, dishonest world. He + was living on the fat of the land up there in Sing Sing, seeing motion + pictures and plays and so forth, without a worry in the world, with union + hours and union pay, no one depending—" + </p> + <p> + "What nonsense are you talking? How could he have union pay in a + penitentiary, Crittenden?" + </p> + <p> + "Don't interrupt me, please. However, I will explain that he was just as + well-off at the end of the week as any union laborer is, and no street car + fare to pay besides. Free food, fuel, lodging, divorce, music—" + </p> + <p> + "I forgot to mention baseball," interrupted Mr. Smilk. "And once in awhile + an electrocution to break the monotony, to say nothin' of a jail-break + every now and then. Say, you'll have to get a move on, Mrs. Champney,—God, + will I ever forget that name!—'cause we're expectin' the police here + before long. I've changed my mind about havin' you hold your hands up, Mr. + Yollop. You made me telephone for the police to come around and arrest me. + Now I'm goin' to make you bind and gag this lady. I can't very well do it + myself and keep you covered at the same time, and while I ought to give + you a wollop on the jaw, same as you done to me, I ain't goin' to do it. + You can scream if you want to, ma'am,—yell 'bloody murder', and + 'police', and everything. It's all the same to me. Go ahead and—" + </p> + <p> + "It is not my intention to do anything of the kind," announced the lady + haughtily. "But I want to tell you one thing, Crittenden Yollop. If you + attempt to gag and bind me, I'll bite and scratch, even if you are my own + brother." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop pondered. "I think, Cassius, if you don't mind, I'd rather + you'd hit me a good sound wollop on the jaw." + </p> + <p> + "I'll tell you what I'll do," modified Mr. Smilk. "I'll lock you in that + closet over there, Mr. Yollop, so's you won't have to watch me rap her + over the bean. After I've gone through the apartment, I'll—" + </p> + <p> + "Would you strike a woman, Ernest Wilson?" cried Mrs. Champney. + </p> + <p> + "See here, Smilk," said Mr. Yollop, "I cannot allow you to strike my + sister. If you so much as lay a finger on her, I'll thrash you within an + inch of your life." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, you will, will you?" sneered Mr. Smilk. + </p> + <p> + "If you want to go ahead and rob this apartment in a decent, orderly way, + all well and good. My sister and I will personally conduct you through,—" + </p> + <p> + "We will do nothing of the kind," blazed Mrs. Champney. + </p> + <p> + "I'd like to see you try to thrash me within an inch—" + </p> + <p> + "And, what's more," went on the lady, "I will see that you go up for + twenty years, Ernest Wilson, you degraded, ungrateful wretch." + </p> + <p> + Smilk's face brightened. He even allowed himself a foxy grin. + </p> + <p> + "Now you're beginnin' to talk sense," said he. + </p> + <p> + "Sit down, Ernest, and let me talk quietly to you," said Mrs. Champney. + "I'm sure you don't quite realize what you are doing. You need moral + support. You are not naturally a bad man. You—" + </p> + <p> + "Are you goin' to take them rings off peaceably?" muttered Smilk, a hunted + look leaping into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + "I am not," said she. + </p> + <p> + "Speak a little louder, both of you," complained Mr. Yollop. "This + contraption of mine doesn't seem to catch what you are saying." + </p> + <p> + "Jiggle it," said Smilk brightly. + </p> + <p> + "How long ago did you telephone for the police, Crittenden?" + </p> + <p> + "How long ago was it, Cassius?" + </p> + <p> + "Only about an hour. We got plenty of time to finish up before they get + here." + </p> + <p> + "Do you think it will go harder with you, Cassius, if they find Mrs. + Champney bound and gagged and everything scattered about the floor, and + the jewelry in your possession?" + </p> + <p> + "It might help," said Cassius. "The trouble is, you never can tell what a + damn' fool jury will do, 'specially to a guy with a record like mine." + </p> + <p> + "You had a splendid record up at Sing Sing," announced the lady. "That's + why I had so little trouble—" + </p> + <p> + "You don't get me," said Cassius lugubriously. "My record is a bad one. + I've been paroled twice. That's bound to influence most any jury against + me. Wouldn't surprise me a bit if they recommended clemency, as the sayin' + is, and after all that's been done to keep me out of the pen, the judge is + likely to up and give me the minimum sentence. No," he went on, "I guess + I'll have to rap somebody over the bean. I'd sooner it as you, ma'am, on + account of the way you forced me into a life of crime when I was leadin' + an honest, happy, carefree—" + </p> + <p> + "Why, the man's insane, Crittenden,—positively insane. He doesn't + know what he's—" + </p> + <p> + "For God's sake, don't start anything like that," barked Cassius. "That + would be the LIMIT!" + </p> + <p> + "You don't understand, Alice," said Mr. Yollop kindly. "The poor fellow + merely wants to have the law enforced. He says it's a crime the way the + law is being violated these days. Or words to that effect, eh, Cassius?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir. There are more honest, law-abidin' men up in Sing Sing right at + this minute than there are in the whole city of New York. Or words to that + effect, as you say, Mr. Yollop. The surest and quickest way to make an + honest man of a crook is to send him to the pen. I don't know as I've ever + heard of a robbery, or a holdup, or anything like that up there." + </p> + <p> + "The way he rambles, Crittenden, is proof—" + </p> + <p> + "It would be just like her to go on the stand and swear I'm batty," + snarled Cassius. "I got to do something about it, Mr. Yollop. She's goin' + to interfere with the law again, sure as God made little apples. I can see + it comin'. I'm goin' to count three, ma'am. If you don't let Mr. Yollop + start to tyin' you up with that muffler of his hangin' over there in the + closet by the time I've said three, I'm goin' to shoot him. I hate to do + it, 'cause he's a fine feller and don't deserve to be shot on account of + any darn' fool woman." + </p> + <p> + "I suppose you know the law provides a very unpleasant penalty for + murder," said Mrs. Champney, but her voice quavered disloyally. + </p> + <p> + "One!" began Cassius ominously. + </p> + <p> + "Do you really mean it?" she cried, and glanced frantically over her + shoulder at the open closet door. + </p> + <p> + "Two," replied Cassius. + </p> + <p> + "Count slowly," implored Mr. Yollop. + </p> + <p> + "You—you may tie my hands, Critt—Crittenden,—" chattered + the lady. + </p> + <p> + "You mustn't bite or scratch him," warned Cassius. + </p> + <p> + Sixty seconds later, Mrs. Champney stood before the burglar, her wrists + securely bound behind her back. + </p> + <p> + "Will you gag her, or must I?" demanded Cassius. + </p> + <p> + "I will give you my word of honor not to scream," faltered the crumpling + lady. + </p> + <p> + "It ain't the screamin' I object to," said Smilk. "It's the talkin'. + You've done too much talkin' already, ma'am. If you hadn't talked so much + I wouldn't be here tonight." + </p> + <p> + "Have you a hanky, Cassius?" inquired Mr. Yollop. + </p> + <p> + "I refuse to have that disgusting wretch's filthy handkerchief stuffed + into my mouth," cried Mrs. Champney, with spirit. Mr. Yollop chuckled. + "Good gracious, Crittenden, what is there to laugh at?" + </p> + <p> + "I was thinking of your roll of bills, Cassius," said Mr. Yollop. + </p> + <p> + "Not on your life," said Cassius, who evidently had had the same thought. + "She'd swaller it." + </p> + <p> + "I suppose we'd better repair to your room, Alice, where we can obtain the + necessary articles. Mr. Smilk will naturally want to ransack your room + anyhow, so we 'll be saving quite a bit of time. And the police are likely + to be here any minute now." + </p> + <p> + "You forgot to take your rings off, ma'am," reminded Mr. Smilk. "That's + got to be attended to, first of all. Take 'em off, Mr. Yollop, and put 'em + here on the desk." A moment later he dropped the three costly rings into + his coat pocket. "Now," said he, "lead the way. I'll be right behind you + with the gun. No monkey business, now,—remember that." + </p> + <p> + It was not long before Mrs. Champney, properly gagged, found herself + lashed to a rocking-chair in the charming little bed chamber, occupying, + so to speak, a select position from which to observe the hasty but + skillful operations of her recalcitrant beneficiary. She watched him empty + her innovation trunk, the drawers in her bureau, and the closet in which + her choicest gowns were hanging. He did it very thoroughly. The floor was + strewn with lingerie, hats, shoes, slippers, gloves, stockings, furs, + frocks,—over which he trod with professional disdain; he broke open + her smart little jewel case and took therefrom a glittering assortment of + rings, bracelets, and earrings; a horseshoe pin, a gorgeous crescent, and + a string of pearls; a platinum and diamond wrist watch, an acorn watch, a + diamond collar, several bars of diamonds, rubies and emeralds, and odds + and ends of feminine vanity all without so much as pausing to classify + them beyond the mere word "junk". All of this dazzling fortune he stuffed + carelessly into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + During the proceedings, Mr. Yollop stood obediently over against the wall, + his hands aloft, his back towards the rummaging Cassius. + </p> + <p> + "What's in that room over there?" demanded the burglar, pointing to a + closed door. For obvious reasons there was no response. He scowled for a + second or two and then, striding over to Mr. Yollop, seized him by the + shoulder and turned him about-face. Then he repeated the question. + </p> + <p> + "That's the room where my niece sleeps. A little ten year old child, + Cassius. You will oblige me by not disturbing—" + </p> + <p> + "Is her hair bobbed?" broke in Mr. Smilk. + </p> + <p> + "Certainly not. She wears it long. Beautiful golden tresses, Smilk. + Particularly beautiful when she's asleep, spreading out all over the + pillow like a silken—" An audible, muffled, groan came from the + occupant of the rocking-chair heard only by Mr. Smilk. His gaze went first + to the purpling face of Mrs. Champney, then to the door, then back to the + lady again. + </p> + <p> + "For your sake, Mr. Yollop, I won't clip it," he announced. "I know I'd + ought to, but—Well, I guess it's about time we went back to the + library again. The cops will be along in a couple of minutes now, + according to my calculations. I can tell almost to a minute how long it + takes them to get around to where a burglary has been committed. If you'll + tell me where you think your slippers are we'll stop and get 'em on the + way." + </p> + <p> + Leaving Mrs. Champney seated alone and helpless in the midst of the + confusion, Smilk marched Mr. Yollop to his bedroom and then up the hall to + the scene of the first encounter. + </p> + <p> + "It seems sort of a pity not to get away with all this stuff," said the + burglar, rattling the objects in his pocket. "It ain't professional. I'm + beginnin' to change my mind about bein' arrested, Mr. Yollop: I know a + girl that would be tickled to death to have these things to splash around + in. She's a peach of a—say, I believe I'll use your telephone again. + I'll call her up and see how she feels about it. If she says she'd like to + have 'em, I'll make my getaway before the cops—" + </p> + <p> + "You will find the telephone directory hanging on the end of the desk, + Cassius," said Mr. Yollop graciously. He was seated in the big arm chair + again, wriggling his toes delightedly in the cozy, fleece lined bed-room + slippers. "But are you not afraid she will be annoyed if you get her out + of bed this time o' night? It's after three." + </p> + <p> + "I know the number. Yes, she'll be sore at first, but—Hello + Central?" He lowered his voice almost to a whisper, so that Mr. Yollop + could not hear. "Give me Plaza 00100. Right." Turning to Mr. Yollop, he + announced as he sank back into the chair comfortably: + </p> + <p> + "It's an apartment. We'll probably have quite a long wait. I've found it + takes some little time to wake the head of the house and get him to the + 'phone. And say, he's the darndest grouch I've ever tackled. Get's sore as + a crab. But we've got him where we want him. He knows darned well if he + kicks up a row, she'll quit and his wife couldn't get anybody in her place + for love or money these days. I was sayin' only the other night—" + Again lowering his voice: "Is this Plaza 00100? ... I want to speak to + Yilga, please." ... Raising his voice considerably: "Here, now, cut that + out! ... Well, it IS important. ... Course, I know what time o' night it + is. ... Yes, it's a damned outrage an' all that, but—what? ... All + right, I'll hold the wire. Tell her to hustle, will you?" + </p> + <p> + "I wish I had shot you, Smilk, when I had the chance," said Mr. Yollop + sadly. "This is abominable, atrocious. Getting a man out of bed at + half-past three! It's unspeakable, Smilk!" + </p> + <p> + "She's a light sleeper," mused Mr. Smilk aloud, dreamily. + </p> + <p> + "What say?" + </p> + <p> + "Don't bother me. I'm thinkin'!" + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop waited a moment. "What are you thinking about, Cassius?" + </p> + <p> + Cassius started. "... Eh? I was thinkin' about the last time I had + breakfast at Mr. Johnson's apartment. It was that terrible cold morning + the first of last week. By gosh, how that girl can cook! Six fried eggs + and—yes? Hello!" + </p> + <p> + Plaza 00100: "Yilga's not in yet." + </p> + <p> + Smilk, sharply: "What's that?" + </p> + <p> + Plaza 00100: "She's out." + </p> + <p> + Smilk, sharply: "Out? Come off! You can't put that sort of stuff over me—" + </p> + <p> + Plaza 00100: "I tell you she's not in. That's all. And say, don't call up + this apartment again at—" + </p> + <p> + Smilk: "Say, it's nearly four o'clock. She must be in." + </p> + <p> + Plaza 00100: "She's not in, I tell you. She went out last evening with her + young man. One of the other maids stuck her head out of her door and told + me." + </p> + <p> + Smilk, with fallen jaw: "What—what time do you expect her in?" + </p> + <p> + Plaza 00100: "I don't know, and I don't give a damn so long as she's here + in time to get break—" + </p> + <p> + Smilk, furiously: "Hey, you go back there and bust into her room. Hear + what I say? Better take a club or a gun or something—" + </p> + <p> + Plaza 00100; "Go to thunder!" + </p> + <p> + Smilk, flinching as he jerked the receiver away from his ear: "Lord! I bet + he put that telephone out of whack!" + </p> + <p> + He sagged a little as he slowly hung up the receiver. For a moment he + stared desolately at Mr. Yollop and then recovering himself gradually + rushed with ever increasing velocity into the most violent hurricane of + profanity that ever was centered upon the frailty of woman. Running out of + expletives he at last subsided into an ominous calm. + </p> + <p> + "For two cents," groaned he, "I'd blow my head off." He gazed hungrily at + the revolver. + </p> + <p> + "I never dreamed there were so many cuss-words in the world," gasped Mr. + Yollop, blinking. + </p> + <p> + "There ain't half enough," announced Mr. Smilk, in a far away voice. + </p> + <p> + "Put that pistol down!" roared Mr. Yollop. "What are you going to do? + Shoot yourself?" + </p> + <p> + "It would save an awful lot of trouble," said Mr. Smilk. + </p> + <p> + "The deuce it would! My servants would be a week cleaning up after you, + and you'd probably ruin this Meshed rug. Besides, confound you, the police + would think that I shot you. Give me that pistol! Give it to me, I say. + You can come in here and rob to your heart's content, but I'm damned if + I'll allow you to commit suicide here. That's a little too thick, Smilk. + Why the dickens should you worry about that infernal jade? Aren't you + going to the penitentiary for fifteen or twenty years? Aren't you-" + </p> + <p> + "You're right,—you're right," broke in Cassius, drawing a deep + breath. "I guess I had a kind of a brainstorm. It was the jewels that done + it. Funny how a feller gets the feelin' that he just has to give diamonds + and pearls to his girl. It came over me all of a sudden. The only things I + ever gave that girl was a moleskin coat, a sable collar and muff, and a + gold mesh bag with seventy-eight dollars and a lace handkerchief in it. + For a minute or two I was tempted to give her diamonds and rubies—oh, + well, I guess I've had my lesson. Never again! Never again, Mr. Yollop. + I'm off women from now on. Here's the gun. If the police try to hang it on + you, I'll swear it's mine. Listen! there's the elevator stoppin' at this + floor. It's them. Before we let 'em in, I'd like to tell you I've never + had a more interestin' evenin' in my whole life. What's more I never saw a + man like you. You got me guessin'. You're either the goshdarndest fool + livin' or else you're the slickest confidence man outside of captivity. + Which are you? That's what's eatin' me." + </p> + <p> + "I'm both," said Mr. Yollop, picking up the revolver. + </p> + <p> + "That ain't possible," said Mr. Smilk. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes, it is. I'm a milliner, Cassius." + </p> + <p> + "I know you're a millionaire, but that don't,—" + </p> + <p> + "I said milliner." + </p> + <p> + "Run a mill of some kind?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I make hats for women." + </p> + <p> + As the incredulous burglar opened his mouth to say something the buzzer on + the door sounded. + </p> + <p> + "They got here just in time," he substituted. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER FOUR + </h2> + <p> + The case of the State vs. Cassius Smilk, charged with burglary, was + finally set for trial the second week in February, just one year, one + month and eleven days after his arrest in the apartment of Crittenden + Yollop. There had been, it appears, a slight delay in getting 'round to + his case. The dockets in all Parts of General Sessions were more or less + clogged by the efforts of ex-convicts to get back into the penitentiary. + Also, there were a great many murder cases that kept bobbing up every now + and then for continuance on one plea or another to the disgust of the + harassed judges; to say nothing of the re-trials made necessary by the + jurors who listened more attentively to the lawyers who "summed up" than + they did to the witnesses who were under oath to tell nothing but the + truth. + </p> + <p> + Cassius, on arraignment, had pleaded not guilty, according to the ancient + ritual of his profession. Notwithstanding his evident and expressed desire + to return to a haven of peace and luxury, he was far too conscientious a + criminal to violate the soundest—it may well be said, the elemental—law + of his craft, by pleading guilty to anything. + </p> + <p> + It was a matter of principle with him. Circumstances had nothing to do + with it. The instant he found himself in court, he reverted to type, + somewhat gleefully setting about to make as much trouble as possible. He + adhered to the principle that no criminal is adequately punished unless + the people are made to pay for the privilege of suppressing him. The only + way to make the people respect the law, he contended, is to let 'em + understand that it costs money to enforce it. Besides, crime has a + certain, clearly established dignity that must be reckoned with. The world + thinks a great deal less of you if after you have violated the law, you + also refuse to fight it. + </p> + <p> + Take the judge, for instance. (I quote Smilk.) What sort of an opinion + does he have of you if you slide up to the little "gate," with your tail + between your legs and plead guilty? Why, he hardly notices you. He has to + put on his spectacles in order to see you at all and he doesn't even have + to look in the statute book to refresh his memory as to the minimum + penalty for larceny or whatever it is. And the way the Assistant District + Attorney looks at you! And the bailiffs too. But put up a fight and see + what happens. The whole blamed works sits up and takes notice. The judge + looks over his spectacles and says to himself, "by gosh, he's a tough + lookin' bird, that guy is;" the District Attorney goes around tellin' + everybody in a whisper that you're a desperate character; the clerk of the + court, the stenographer and all the bailiffs sort of wake up and act busy; + the men waiting to be examined for jobs on the jury begin to fidget and + wonder whether the judge is a "crab" or a nice, decent feller what'll let + 'em off when they tell him they got sickness in the family, and all of 'em + ha tin' you worse than poison because you didn't plead guilty. + </p> + <p> + He was remanded for trial within two weeks after his arrest. The court, + finding him penniless, announced he would appoint counsel to defend him. + Whereupon Smilk sauntered back to the Tombs with a light heart, confident + that his sojourn there would be brief and that March at the very latest + would see him snugly settled in his rent-free, food-free, landlordless + home on the Hudson, entertainment for man and beast provided without + discrimination, crime no object. + </p> + <p> + First of all, his lawyer unexpectedly got a job to represent a shady lady + in a sensational breach of promise suit that drew weekly postponements + over a period of five months and finally died a natural death out of court + sometime in June. + </p> + <p> + This resulted in his lawyer becoming so affluent that it wasn't necessary + for him to bother with Cassius, so he withdrew from the case. After some + delay, another lawyer was appointed to defend him and things began to look + up. But by this time the dockets had become so jammed with unrelated + dilemmas, and the summer heat was so intense, that the new lawyer informed + him he couldn't possibly sandwich him in unless he would consent to change + his plea to "guilty", contending that the combination of humility and + humidity would go a long ways towards softening the judge. But Cassius + sturdily refused to cheapen himself. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, new crimes had been committed by countless gentlemen of + leisure; the Tombs was full of men clamoring for attention, and there was + an undetected waiting list outside that stretched all the way from the + Battery to the lower extremities of Yonkers. + </p> + <p> + The principal witness, Mr. Crittenden Yollop, did his best to behave + nobly. He thrice postponed a business trip to Paris in order to be within + reach when Cassius needed him. Then, in the fall, when things looked most + propitious for a speedy termination of Smilk's suspense, the millinery + business took a sudden and alarming turn for the worse and Mr. Yollop fell + into the hands of the specialists. He had his teeth ex-rayed, his sinuses + probed, his eyes examined, his stomach sounded, his intestines visited, + his nerves tampered with, his blood tested, his kidneys explored, his + heart observed, his ears inspected, his gall stones (if he had any) + shifted, his last will and testament drawn up, his funeral practically + arranged for,—all by different scientists,—and then was + ordered to go off somewhere in the country and play golf for his health. + He went to Hot Springs, Virginia, and inside of two weeks contracted the + golf disease in its most virulent form. He got it so bad that other + players looked upon him as a scourge and avoided him even to the point of + self-sacrifice. It was said of him that when he once got on a green it was + next to impossible to get him off of it. + </p> + <p> + But all this is neither here nor there. Suffice to say that shortly after + his return to New York, Mr. Yollop paid a more or less clandestine visit + to the Tombs, where he saw Cassius. This was the week before the trial was + to open. He found the crook in a disconsolate frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + "Don't call me Yollop," he managed to convey to the prisoner. "I gave + another name to the jailer or whatever he is. Is it jail bird? It wouldn't + look right for the prosecuting witness to come down here to see you. They + think I'm your brother-in-law." + </p> + <p> + Smilk glowered. "Has your hearin' improved any?" he inquired, after + locating the disc. + </p> + <p> + "No, of course not." + </p> + <p> + "Then," said the prisoner, "I can't tell you what I think of you without + the whole damn' jail hearin' me, so I guess you'd better beat it." + </p> + <p> + "Splendid! That's just the way I might have expected you to talk to your + brother-in-law." + </p> + <p> + "Well, what do you want anyhow?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't think that's a very nice way to speak to a—" + </p> + <p> + "Come on, what do you want to see me about? Get it over with and get out. + It can't help my case any if it gets noised around that you come down here + to pay a friendly visit to me. I'm havin' a hard enough time as it is. + It's gettin' so it's almost impossible to get back into the pen even—" + </p> + <p> + "See here, Cassius, I've been giving your case a great deal—of + serious thought. I want to help you out of this scrape if there is any way + to do it." + </p> + <p> + "That's just what I thought you'd be up to," groaned Cassius. "What's got + into you? Have you soured on life, or what is it?" + </p> + <p> + "Not a bit of it. You do not get my meaning. Your wife came to see me + yesterday afternoon." + </p> + <p> + "My wife? Which one?" + </p> + <p> + "A tallish one with a flat nose." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I know her. What'd she want?" + </p> + <p> + "She asked me to be as easy on you as I could, on account of the + children." + </p> + <p> + "How many children has she got now?" + </p> + <p> + "Four, she informs me. The youngest is two and a half." + </p> + <p> + Cassius seemed to be doing a bit of mental arithmetic. He pondered well + before speaking. Then he said: "Did she say whose children?" + </p> + <p> + "I assumed them to be yours, Cassius." + </p> + <p> + Smilk grinned. "Well, I guess she's adopted a couple since the last time I + saw her, which was five years ago last Spring. I been married twice since + then. So she wants you to go easy on me, eh?" + </p> + <p> + "She seems to think that if I intercede for you the judge will let you off + with a suspended sentence, and then you can go to work and support your + family." + </p> + <p> + "It's time she woke up," snarled Smilk. + </p> + <p> + "I been at large quite a bit in the last ten years and if she can prove + that I ever supported her,—why, darn her hide, what right has she + got to accuse me of supportin' her when she knows I've never been guilty + of doin' it? She knows as well as anything that she supported me on three + different occasions when I was out for a month or two at a stretch. I will + say this for her, she supported me better than the other two did,—a + lot better. And it's her own fault her nose is flat. If she'd stood still + that time—But I'm not goin' to discuss family affairs with you, Mr. + Yol—" + </p> + <p> + "Sh! Easy!" + </p> + <p> + "It's all right. He ain't listenin'." + </p> + <p> + "What is your brother-in-law's name?" in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + "I never had but one name for him, and it's something I wouldn't call you + for anything in the world," said Smilk. "Let's make it Bill. You ain't + goin' to do what she asks, are you? You ain't goin' to do a dirty trick + like that are you,—Bill?" + </p> + <p> + "I thought I would come down and talk the matter over with you, Cash. I'm + in quite a dilemma. She says if I don't help you out of this scrape she + and all your children will haunt me to my dying day. It sounds rather + terrible, doesn't it?" + </p> + <p> + "I can't think of anything worse," acknowledged Cassius, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + "She asked me what I thought your sentence would be, and I told her I + doubted very much whether you'd get more than a year or so, in view of all + the extenuating circumstances,—that is to say, your self-restraint + and all that when you had not only the jewels but the revolver as well. + That seemed to cheer her up a bit." + </p> + <p> + "You made a ten strike that time, Bill," said Smilk, his face brightening. + "I didn't give you credit for bein' so clever. If she thinks I'll be out + in a year or two, maybe she'll be satisfied to keep her nose out of my + affairs. If you had told her I was dead sure to go up for twenty years or + so, she'd come and camp over there in the Criminal Courts Building and + just raise particular hell with everything." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop turned his face away. "I'm sorry to bring bad news to you, + Cash, but she's made up her mind to attend your trial next Monday. She's + going to bring the children and—" + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by the string of horrific oaths that issued, + pianissimo, through the twisted lips of the prisoner. After a time, + Cassius interrupted himself to murmur weakly: + </p> + <p> + "If she does that, I'm lost. We got to head her off somehow, Mr.—er—Bill." + </p> + <p> + "I don't see how it can be managed. She has a perfect right to attend the + pro—" + </p> + <p> + "Wait a minute, Bill," broke in the other eagerly. "I got an idea. If you + give her that roll of mine, maybe she'll stay away." + </p> + <p> + "What roll are you talking about?" + </p> + <p> + "My roll of bills,—you remember, don't you?" + </p> + <p> + "My good man, I haven't got your roll of bills. And besides I couldn't put + myself in the position of—of—er—what is it you call it?—tinkering + with witnesses to defeat the ends of justice." + </p> + <p> + "But she ain't a witness, Bill. You couldn't possibly get in wrong. What's + more, it's my money, and I got a right to give it to my wife, ain't I? + Ain't I got a right to give money to my own wife,—or to one of my + wives, strictly speakin',—and to my own children? Ain't I?" + </p> + <p> + "That isn't the point. I refuse to be a party to any such game. We need + not discuss it any farther. As I said before, I haven't your roll of + bills, and if I had it I—" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes, you have. You got it right up there in your apartment. I stuck + it away behind a—" + </p> + <p> + "Stop! Not another word, Cassius. I don't want to know where it is. If you + persist in telling me, I'll—I'll ask the judge to let you off with + the lightest sentence he can—" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Lord, you WOULDN'T do that, would you?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I would. What do you mean by secreting stolen property in my + apartments?" + </p> + <p> + "I didn't steal it. I found it, I tell you." + </p> + <p> + "Bosh!" + </p> + <p> + "Hope I may die if I didn't." + </p> + <p> + "Well, it may stay there till it rots, so far as I am concerned." + </p> + <p> + "No danger of that," said Smilk composedly. "A friend of mine is comin' + around some night soon to get it. What else did she say?" + </p> + <p> + "Eh?" + </p> + <p> + "What else did my wife say?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh! Well, among other things, she wondered if it would be possible to get + an injunction against the court to prevent him from depriving her of her + only means of support. She says everybody is getting injunctions these + days and—" + </p> + <p> + "Bosh!" said Smilk, but not with conviction. An anxious, inquiring gleam + lurked in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop continued: + </p> + <p> + "I told her it was ridiculous,—and it is. Then she said she was + going to see your lawyer and ask him to put her on the witness stand to + testify that you are a good, loyal, hard-working husband and that your + children ought to have a father's hand over them, and a lot more like + that." + </p> + <p> + "She tried that once before and the court wouldn't let her testify," said + Smilk. "But anyhow, I'll tell my lawyer to kick her out of the office if + she comes around there offering to commit perjury." + </p> + <p> + "I rather fancy she has considered that angle, Cassius. She says if she + isn't allowed to testify, she's going to attempt suicide right there in + the court-room." + </p> + <p> + "By gum, she's a mean woman," groaned Smilk. + </p> + <p> + "I'm obliged to agree with you," said Mr. Yollop, compressing his lips as + a far-away look came into his eyes. "If I live to be a thousand years old, + I'll never forget the way she talked to me when I finally succeeded in + telling her I was busy and she would have to excuse me. It was something + appalling." + </p> + <p> + "Course. I suppose I got myself to blame," lamented Cassius ruefully. "I + don't know how many times I come near to doin' it and didn't because I was + so darned chicken-hearted." + </p> + <p> + "I have decided, Cash, that you ought to go up for life,—or for + thirty years, at least. So when I go on the stand I intend to do + everything in my power to secure the maximum for you. At first, I was + reluctant to aid you in your efforts to lead a life of ease and enjoyment + but recent events have convinced me that you are entitled to all that the + law can give you." + </p> + <p> + "It won't do much good if she's to set there in the Courtroom, snivelling + and lookin' heart-broke, with a pack of half-starved kids hangin' on to + her. Like as not, she won't give 'em anything to eat for two or three days + so's they'll look the part. I remember two of them kids fairly well. The + Lord knows I used to take all kinds of risks to provide clothes and all + sorts of luxuries for them,—and for her too. I used to give 'em + bicycles and skates and gold watches,—yes, sir, we had Christmas + regularly once a month. And she never was without fur neck-pieces and + muffs and silk stockings and everything. The trouble with that woman is, + she can't stand poverty. She just keeps on hopin' for the day to come when + she can wear all sorts of finery and jewels again, even if I do have to go + to the penitentiary for it. All this comes of bein' too good a provider, + Bill. You spoil 'em." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop was thinking, so Cassius, after waiting a moment, scratched his + head and ventured: + </p> + <p> + "That guy's beginnin' to fidget, Bill. I guess your time's about up. What + are you thinkin' about?" + </p> + <p> + "I was thinking about your other wives. How many did you say you have?" + </p> + <p> + "Three, all told. The other two don't bother me much." + </p> + <p> + "Haven't you ever been divorced from any of them?" + </p> + <p> + "Not especially. Why?" + </p> + <p> + "Where do the other two live, and what are their names?" + </p> + <p> + "Elsie Morton and Jennie Finch. I mean, those are their married names. I + use a different alias every time I get married, you see. Course, my first + wife,—the one you met,—her name is Smilk. I married her when I + was young and not very smart. Elsie lives in Brooklyn and Jennie keeps a + delicatessen up on the West Side." + </p> + <p> + "Do they know where you are?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't think so. I forgot to tell 'em I was out on parole last year." + </p> + <p> + "And they have never been divorced from you?" + </p> + <p> + "No. They couldn't prove anything on me as long as I was locked up in the + penitentiary." + </p> + <p> + "Does either one of them know about the other two?" + </p> + <p> + "I should say not! What do you think I am?" + </p> + <p> + "Don't lose your temper, Cassius. I am trying to think of some way to help + you,—and I believe I see a ray of hope. You were regularly married + to Elsie and Jennie,—I mean, by a minister, and so on?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure. They both got their marriage certificates. I always believe in + doin' things in the proper legal way. It's only fair and right. They—" + </p> + <p> + "Never mind. Give me their addresses." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER FIVE + </h2> + <p> + There were quite a number of people in the court room when the case of the + State vs. Smilk was called. It was a bitterly cold day outside and + considerable of an overflow from the corridors had seeped into the various + court rooms. But little delay was experienced in obtaining a jury. The + regular panel was stuck, with a few exceptions. Only one member was able + to declare that he had formed an opinion, and he did not form it until + after he had had a good look at the prisoner,—although he did not + say so. Two were challenged by counsel and one got off because he admitted + that he was acquainted with a man who used to be connected with the + District Attorney's office,—he couldn't think of his name. + </p> + <p> + Smilk's attorney succeeded in executing a very clever piece of strategy at + the outset. No sooner had the jury been sworn than he ordered the bailiffs + to crowd three or four more chairs alongside his table, and then blandly + invited a considerable portion of the audience to take their seats inside + the railing. The persons indicated included a tall, shabbily dressed woman + and seven ragged, pinched children, ranging in years from twelve down to + three. Immediately the prosecution fell into the trap. Two agitated + Assistant District Attorneys jumped to their feet and barked out an + objection to the presence of the accused's wife and family on the inside + of the fence, and the court promptly sustained them. He also said some + very sharp and caustic things to Smilk's lawyer. Mrs. Smilk and her + bewildered seven patiently resumed their seats in the front row of + spectators, but not until after a four year old girl, surreptitiously + pinched, had caused a mild sensation by piping: "I want my daddy! I want + my daddy!" + </p> + <p> + Smilk cringed and it was quite apparent to close observers that he was + having great difficulty in suppressing his emotions. + </p> + <p> + The first witness for the prosecution was Crittenden Yollop, milliner, + aged 44. A more thorough examination by the State would have disclosed the + fact that he was six feet tall, spare, slightly bald, beardless, + well-manicured, and faultlessly attired. + </p> + <p> + "State your name and occupation, please," said the State's attorney, + advancing a few paces toward the witness stand. + </p> + <p> + "My name is Crittenden Yollop. I am in the millinery business." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Where do you reside?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "418 Sagamore Terrace." + </p> + <p> + The State: "In an apartment?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "A little louder, if you please." + </p> + <p> + The State, raising its voice: "Repeat the question, Mr. Stenographer." + </p> + <p> + Stenographer, leaning forward a little: "'In an apartment?'" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Yes." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Were you living in this apartment on the 18th of December, + 1919?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I was." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Was that apartment entered by a burglar on the date + mentioned?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "It was." + </p> + <p> + The State, casually: "Will you be so good as to glance around the court + room and state whether you see and recognize the man who entered and + robbed your apartment?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop, pointing: "Yes. That is the man." + </p> + <p> + The State: "You are sure about that?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I beg pardon?" + </p> + <p> + The State, patiently: "Repeat the question, Mr. Stenographer." + </p> + <p> + Stenographer, patiently: "'You are sure about that?'" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Certainly." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Now, Mr. Yollop, I'm going to ask you to tell the jury, in + your own words, exactly what occurred in your apartment on the morning of + December 18th. Speak slowly and distinctly, and face the jury." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop, assisted to some extent by the gentleman conducting the + examination, related the story of the crime, dwelling with special + earnestness upon the dastardly, brutal manner in which Smilk forced him, + at the point of a revolver to bind and gag and otherwise maltreat the + woman who had befriended him and whose jewels he was preparing to make off + with when the police arrived. He carefully avoided any allusion to certain + portions of the lengthy and illuminating dialogue that had taken place + between him and Smilk; he said nothing of the unexampled behavior of the + intruder in telephoning for the police, or the kindness revealed by him in + suggesting a means for getting his captor's feet warm. + </p> + <p> + Smilk's lawyer, at the very outset of the cross-examination, clarified the + air as to the nature of the defense he was going to put up for his client. + After a few preliminary questions, he demanded sharply: + </p> + <p> + "Now, Mr. Yollop, didn't this defendant state to you that he had been + unable to get work and that his wife and family were in such desperate + straits that he was forced to commit a crime against the State in order to + preserve them from actual starvation?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "He did not." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "You are quite positive about that, are you?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Yes." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Did he, at the time appear to be a robust, well-conditioned man,—that + is to say, a man who looked strong enough to work and who had had + sufficient nourishment to keep his body and soul together?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "He certainly did." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "A big, rugged, healthy, desperate fellow, you would say?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Yes." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Armed with a loaded revolver?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Yes." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "You would say that he was big enough and strong enough to pull a + trigger, wouldn't you?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I can't answer that question. I don't know how much strength it + requires to pull a trigger." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Ahem! At any rate, he looked as though he was strong enough to + pull a trigger?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I dare say he could have pulled it." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "And yet you would have the jury believe that this big, strong, + well-nourished man, permitted you—By the by, how much do you weigh, + Mr. Yollop!" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "About 145 pounds, in my clothes." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "You are six feet tall, I should say?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Lacking a quarter of an inch." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Ahem! As I was saying, this strong, desperate man, armed with a + revolver, allowed you to walk across the room and strike him in the face, + causing him to crumple up and fall to the floor as if struck by a—well, + someone like Jack Dempsey. Isn't that so?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I never was so surprised in my life." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, thunderously: "Answer my question!" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Well, I hit him and he fell." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Do you regard yourself as an experienced boxer?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "No, I don't." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Are you what may be termed a powerful man, able to strike a + powerful blow with the fist?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I don't know. The defendant can answer that question better than + I can." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, to the court: "Your honor, I appeal to you to direct this witness + to answer my questions—" + </p> + <p> + The Court: "Confine your answers to the questions as they are put to you, + Mr. Witness." + </p> + <p> + Counsel to Yollop: "Now see if you can answer this question, Mr. Yollop. + You have described in direct examination that this defendant was a big, + burly, rough looking man. You say you were surprised when he went down + under your inexpert blow. Why were you surprised?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I was surprised to find how easy it is to knock a man down." + </p> + <p> + Counsel. "I see. You had never knocked a man down before. Is that so?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I had never even struck a man before." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "And yet you found it singularly easy to deliver a blow on the + jaw of an armed man with sufficient force to knock him down?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I can only answer that question by saying that he went down when + I struck him. I don't know how hard or how easy it is to knock a man + down." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "But you admit you were surprised?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Yes. I was surprised." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, shaking his finger and speaking with something like malevolence + in his voice and manner: "Don't you know, Mr. Yollop, that this man was so + exhausted from lack of food that he was not only unable to defend himself + from your assault but that the weakest blow—or even a gentle push + with the open hand,—would have sent him sprawling?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I don't know anything about that." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Wasn't he so weak that he could hardly walk across the room + after he arose?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Possibly. He was not too weak, however, to climb up two floors on + a fire escape and pry open my window before I,—" + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Now,—now,—now! Please answer my question?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "He complained of being dizzy. He held his hand to his jaw. That's + all I can say." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "You were pointing the revolver at him all the time, you have + testified. Is that true?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Yes." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "If he had made an attempt to attack you, you would have shot + him, wouldn't you?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I would have shot AT him, I suppose." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, slowly, distinctly, dramatically: "In other words, you would have + been strong enough to do the thing that he was unable to do,—pull a + trigger." + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I haven't said he was unable to pull a trigger." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Answer my question!" + </p> + <p> + The State, bouncing up: "We object to this question. It calls for a + conclusion on the part of the witness that—" + </p> + <p> + The Court: "Objection sustained." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, glaring: "Exception." Then, after mopping his brow and consulting + his notes: "Now, Mr. Yollop, you say you conversed with this defendant at + some length while waiting for the police to arrive. Have you any + recollection of this defendant telling you that he was driven to theft + because he had been out of work for nearly three months?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "No." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Didn't he say something of the kind to you?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "He didn't say he had been out of WORK for three months." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, patiently: "Well, what did he say?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "He said he had been out of jail for three months." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, suddenly referring to his notes again: "Er—ahem!—By + the way, Mr. Yollop, you don't hear very well, do you?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I am quite deaf." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "He might have said a great many things that you failed to hear,—especially + if his voice was weak?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I dare say he did." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, lifting his eyebrows significantly and nodding his head: "Ah-h-h! + Didn't he tell you that he had a wife and several children?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I don't recall that he said anything about several children. He + said he had several wives." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, startled: "What's that?" + </p> + <p> + A bailiff, harshly addressing a woman in the front row of spectators: + "Order! Order!" + </p> + <p> + The Woman in the front row: "The dirty liar!" + </p> + <p> + The State, sticking its hands in its pockets and strutting to and fro, + smiling loftily: "Repeat the answer for the gentleman, Mr. Reporter." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Never mind,—never mind. I move that the answer be stricken + out, your honor, and that you instruct the jury to disregard the + supposedly facetious reply of the witness." + </p> + <p> + The Court, to Mr. Yollop: "Did this defendant say to you that he had + several wives?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop, looking blandly at the jury until convinced by twelve expressions + and the direction in which twenty four eyes were gazing that the court had + spoken: "I beg pardon, your honor. Were you speaking to me?" + </p> + <p> + The Court, raising his voice: "Did he tell you that he had several wives?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "He did." + </p> + <p> + The Court: "Motion overruled. Proceed." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Exception. Now, Mr.—" + </p> + <p> + Child in the front row, still gazing intently at a very baldheaded man on + the opposite side of the aisle: "I want my daddy! I want—" + </p> + <p> + The Court: "You must remove that child from the court room, madam. + Officer, see that that child is removed. Remove all of them. You may + remain here, madam, if you choose to do so, but the court cannot allow + this trial to be—" + </p> + <p> + The Woman in the front row: "Please, your honor, if you will let me keep + them here I'll promise to—" + </p> + <p> + The Court: "Officer, remove those children at once." + </p> + <p> + The Woman: "And what's more, he tells a dirty lie when he says—" + </p> + <p> + The Court: "Silence! You will have to leave the room also, madam. This is + outrageous. Officer!" + </p> + <p> + The State, magnanimously: "May it please the court, the State has not the + slightest objection to the lady and her children remaining in the court + room, provided they do not interrupt these proceedings again." + </p> + <p> + The Court, melting a little: "Do you think you can keep those children + quiet, madam, and refrain from audible comments yourself?" + </p> + <p> + The Woman: "Yes, sir. I'm sure I can." + </p> + <p> + The Court: "It is not my desire to be harsh with you, madam, but if this + occurs again I shall have you ejected from the room. Proceed." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Now, Mr. Yollop, you have testified that you bound and gagged + your sister at the direction and command of this defendant and that he + rifled the apartment at will, keeping you covered with a revolver. You + also have stated that you laid the pistol on the desk, within his reach, + when you believed the police to be at the door. Why, did you do that?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Because I did not think that I needed it any longer." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, sarcastically: "Oho! so that was the reason, eh?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Well, I was glad to be rid of it. I was dreading all the time + that it might go off accidentally. They frequently do." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "I see. Now, isn't it a fact, Mr. Yollop, that you laid the + revolver down to go to the assistance of this defendant who was in a + fainting condition?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "No, it isn't. He was all right." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Don't you know that you laid it down because you were convinced + in you own mind that he was physically unable to take advantage of it? + That he was in no condition to use it?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "No." + </p> + <p> + Counsel, with a pitying look at the jury: "He was still the big, strong, + able-bodied man that you had knocked down with your brawny fist, eh?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop, mildly: "He may have been a little sleepy. I was." + </p> + <p> + A Bailiff: "Order! ORDER!" + </p> + <p> + Counsel, severely: "Now, Mr. Yollop, will you tell this jury why, after + you had found it so simple to knock the defendant down and disarm him + earlier in the evening, you failed to repeat the experiment when he had + you covered the second time?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "The first time I acted on the spur of the moment, and under + stress of great excitement. I had had time to collect my wits by the time + he gained possession of the revolver. I wasn't as foolhardy as I was at + the beginning. I was afraid he would shoot me if I tackled him again." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Isn't it a fact that he appeared much stronger and not so weak + and listless as when you first encountered him?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "I didn't notice any change in him." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Didn't you testify awhile ago that while he was sitting at your + desk, under cover of the gun, he ate a whole box of chocolate creams,—at + your generous invitation?" + </p> + <p> + Yollop: "Yes. He ate them, all right." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Wouldn't you, as an intelligent man, assume that a pound of + chocolates might have the effect of restoring to a half-starved man a + portion of his waning strength,—at least a sufficient amount to + encourage him to put up some kind of a fight against you?" + </p> + <p> + The State: "We object. The question calls for a conclusion on the part of + the witness, who does not even pretend to be an expert or an authority on + pathological—" + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "But he DOES pretend to be an intelligent man, doesn't he? I + submit, your honor, that the question is proper and I—" + </p> + <p> + The Court: "Objection sustained. The witness may state that the defendant + ate a box of chocolate creams. He cannot give an opinion as to the effect + the chocolates may or may not have had on him." + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "Exception." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop was on the stand for half an hour longer. Counsel for the + defense was driving home to the jury the impression that Smilk was a poor, + half-starved wretch who had gone back to thieving after a valiant but + hopeless attempt to find work in order to support his wife and children. + He announced, in arguing an objection made by the State, that it was his + intention to prove by the man's wife that Smilk was a good husband and was + willing to work his fingers off for his family, but that he had been ill + and unable to find steady employment. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Champney testified at the afternoon session. She made a most + unfavorable impression on the jury. She got very angry at Smilk's counsel + and said such spiteful things to him and about his client that the jury + began to feel sorry for both of them. + </p> + <p> + Two detectives and three policemen in uniform testified that Smilk was the + picture of health and a desperate-looking character. Now anybody who has + ever served on a jury in a criminal case knows the effect that the + testimony of a police officer has on three fourths—and frequently + four fourths,—of the jurors. For some unexplained,—though + perhaps obvious reason,—the ordinary juror not only hates a + policeman but refuses to believe him on oath unless he is supported by + evidence of the most unassailable nature. The mere fact that the five + officers swore that Smilk was healthy and rugged no doubt went a long way + toward convincing the jury that the poor fellow was a physical wreck and + absolutely unable to defend himself on the night of the alleged burglary. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, a skilled mind-reader would have discovered that Mr. Yollop had + not made a good impression on the jury. Almost to a man, they discredited + him because he was fastidious in appearance; because he was known to be a + successful and prosperous business man; because he was trying to make them + believe that he possessed the unheard-of courage to tackle an armed + burglar; and because he was a milliner. As for Mrs. Champney, she was the + embodiment of all that the average citizen resents: a combination of + wealth, refinement, intelligence, arrogance and widowhood. Especially does + he resent opulent widowhood. + </p> + <p> + The State rested. Mrs. Smilk was the first witness called by the defense. + She told a harrowing tale of Smilk's unparalleled efforts to obtain work; + of his heart-breaking disappointments; of her own loyal and cheerful + struggle to provide for the children,—and for her poor sick husband,—by + slaving herself almost to death at all sorts of jobs. Furthermore, she was + positive that poor Cassius had reformed, that he was determined to lead an + honest, upright life; all he needed was encouragement and the opportunity + to show his worth. True, he had been in State's Prison twice, but in both + instances it was the result of strong drink. Now that prohibition had come + and he could no longer be subjected to the evils and temptations of that + accursed thing generically known as rum, he was sure to be a model citizen + and husband. In fact, she declared, a friend of the family,—a man + very high up in city politics,—had promised to secure for Cassius an + appointment as an enforcement officer in the great war that was being + waged against prohibition. This seemed to make such a hit with the jury + that Smilk's lawyer shrewdly decided not to press her to alter the + preposition. + </p> + <p> + The cross-examination was brief. + </p> + <p> + The State: "How many children have you, Mrs. Smilk?" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk: "Seven." + </p> + <p> + The State: "The defendant is the father of all of them?" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk, with dignity: "Are you tryin' to insinuate that he ain't?" + </p> + <p> + The State: "Not at all. Answer the question, please." + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk: "Yes, he is." + </p> + <p> + The State: "When did you say you were married to the defendant?" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk: "October, 1906. I got my certificate here with me, if you want + to see it." + </p> + <p> + The State: "I would like to see it." + </p> + <p> + Counsel for Smilk, benignly: "The defense has no objection." + </p> + <p> + The State, after examining the document: "It is quite regular. With the + court's permission, I will submit the document to the jury." + </p> + <p> + The Court, to Smilk's counsel: "Do you desire to offer this document in + evidence?" + </p> + <p> + Counsel: "It had not occurred to us that it was necessary, but now that a + point is being made of it, I will ask that it be introduced as evidence." + </p> + <p> + The State, passing the certificate to the court reporter for his + identification mark: "You have never been divorced from the defendant, + have you, Mrs. Smilk?" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk: "Of course not." Then nervously: "Excuse me, but do I get my + marriage certificate back? It's the only hold I got on—" + </p> + <p> + Counsel, hastily: "Certainly, certainly, Mrs. Smilk. You need have no + worry. It will be returned to you in due time." + </p> + <p> + The State, after reading the certificate aloud, hands it to the foreman, + and says: "The State admits the validity of this certificate. There can be + no question about it." Leans against the table and patiently waits until + the document has made the rounds. "Now, Mrs. Similk, you are sure that you + have not been divorced from Smilk nor he from you?" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk, stoutly; "Course I'm sure." + </p> + <p> + The State: "You heard Mr. Yollop testify that your husband said he had + several wives. So far as you know that is not the case?" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk. "I don't think he ever said it to Mr. Yollop. I think Mr. + Yollop lied." + </p> + <p> + The State: "I see. Then you do not believe your husband could have + deceived you—I withdraw that, Mr. Reporter. You do not believe that + your husband is base enough to have married another woman,—or women,—without + first having obtained a legal divorce from you?" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk: "I wouldn't be up here testifying in his behalf if I thought + that, you bet. He ain't that kind of a man. If I thought he was, I'd like + to see him hung. I'd like to see—" + </p> + <p> + The State. "Never mind, Mrs. Smilk. We are not trying your husband for + bigamy. I think that is all, your honor." + </p> + <p> + Counsel for Smilk: "You may be excused, Mrs. Smilk. Take the stand, + Cassius." + </p> + <p> + Instead of obeying Cassius beckoned to him. Then followed a long, + whispered conference between lawyer and client, at the end of which the + former, visibly annoyed, declared that the defendant had decided not to + testify. The Court indicated that it was optional with the prisoner and + asked if the counsel desired to introduce any further testimony. Counsel + for the defense announced that his client's decision had altered his plans + and that he was forced to rest his case. The Assistant District Attorney + stated that he had two witnesses to examine in rebuttal. + </p> + <p> + "Send for Mrs. Elsie Morton," he directed. "She is waiting in the District + Attorney's office, Mr. Bailiff." + </p> + <p> + To the amazement of every one, Cassius Smilk started up from his chair, a + wild look in his eye. He sat down instantly, however, but it was evident + that he had sustained a tremendous and unexpected shock. Mr. Yollop who + had purposely selected a seat in the front row of spectators from which he + could occasionally exchange mutual glances of well-assumed repugnance with + the rascal, caught Smilk's eye as it followed the retiring bailiff. The + faintest shadow of a wink flickered for a second across that smileless, + apparently troubled optic. Mr. Yollop, who had been leaning forward in his + chair for the better part of the afternoon with one hand cupped behind his + ear and the other manipulating the disc in a vain but determined effort to + hear what was going on, suddenly relaxed into a comfortable, satisfied + attitude and smiled triumphantly. He knew what was coming. And so did + Smilk. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Morton was a plump, bobbed-hair blond of thirty. She had moist + carmine lips, a very white nose, strawberry-hued cheek bones, an alabaster + chin and forehead, and pale, gray eyes surrounded by blue-black rims + tinged with crimson. She wore a fashionable hat,—(Mr. Yollop noticed + that at a glance)—a handsome greenish cloth coat with a broad + moleskin collar and cuffs of the same fur, pearl gray stockings that were + visible to the knees, and high gray shoes that yawned rather shamelessly + at the top despite the wearer's doughtiest struggle with the laces. Her + gloves, also were somewhat over-crowded. She gave her name as Mrs. Elsie + Broderick Morton, married; occupation, ticket seller in a motion picture + theater. + </p> + <p> + The State: "What is your husband's name and occupation?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "Filbert Morton. So far as I know, he never had a regular + occupation." + </p> + <p> + The State: "When were you and Filbert Morton married?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "June the fourteenth, 1916." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Are you living with your husband at present?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "I am not." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Have you ever been divorced from him?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "I have not." + </p> + <p> + The State: "How long is it since you and he lived together?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "A little over three years." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Would you recognize him if you were to see him now?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "I certainly would." + </p> + <p> + The State: "When did you see him last?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "Day before yesterday." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Tell the jury where you saw him." + </p> + <p> + Witness: "Over in the Tombs." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Surreptitiously?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "No, sir. With my own eyes." + </p> + <p> + The State: "I mean, you saw him without his being aware of the fact that + you were looking at him for the purpose of identification?" + </p> + <p> + Witness. "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + The State: "I will now ask you to look about this court room and tell the + jury whether you see the man known to you as Filbert Morton?" + </p> + <p> + Witness, pointing to Smilk: "That's him over there." + </p> + <p> + The State: "You mean the prisoner at the bar, otherwise known as Cassius + Smilk?" + </p> + <p> + Witness. "Yes, sir. That's my husband." + </p> + <p> + The State: "You are sure about that?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "Of course, I am. I wouldn't be likely to make any mistake about + a man I'd lived with for nearly six months, would I? I've got my marriage + certificate here with me, if you want to see it." + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smilk, in the first row, venomously addressing Mr. Smilk: "So that's + what you was up to when you was out for six months and never come near me + once, you dirty—" + </p> + <p> + All bailiffs in unison: "Silence! Order in the court!" + </p> + <p> + The State, presently: "Was he a good, kind, devoted husband to you, Mrs. + Morton?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "Well, if you mean did he provide me with clothes and jewels and + gewgaws and all such, yes. He was always bringing me home rings and + bracelets and necklaces and things. But if you mean did he ever give me + any money to buy food with and keep the flat going, no. I slaved my head + off to get grub for him all the time we were living together." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Did he ever mistreat you?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "Oh, once in a while he used to give me a rap in the eye, or a + kick in the slats, or something like that, but on the whole he was pretty + sensible." + </p> + <p> + The State: "Sensible? In what way?" + </p> + <p> + Witness: "I mean he was sensible enough not to punch his meal ticket too + often." + </p> + <p> + It is not necessary to go any farther into the direct examination of Mrs. + Elsie Morton, nor into the half-hearted efforts of Smilk's disgusted + lawyer to shake her in cross-examination. Nor is it necessary to introduce + here the testimony of Mrs. Jennie Finchley, who succeeded her on the + stand. It appears that Jennie was married in 1914 when Smilk was out for + three months. She supported him for several months in 1916,—up to + the time he packed up and left her on the morning of the fourteenth of + June, that year. As Herbert Finchley he not only managed to live + comfortably off the proceeds of her delicatessen, but in leaving her he + took with him nine hundred dollars that she had saved out of the business + despite his gormandizing. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER SIX + </h2> + <p> + Despite the fact that the jury was out just a few minutes short of seven + hours, it finally came in with a verdict "guilty as charged." Twice the + devoted twelve returned to the court room for further instructions from + the judge. Once they wanted to know if it was possible to convict the + prisoner for bigamy instead of burglary, and the other time it was to have + certain portions of Mr. Yollop's testimony read to them. Immediately upon + retiring an amicable and friendly discussion took place in the crowded, + stuffy little jury room. Eight men lighted black cigars, two lighted their + pipes, one joyously, almost ravenously resorted to a package of "Lucky + Strikes," while the twelfth man announced that he did not smoke. He had + been obliged to give it up because of blood pressure or something like + that. + </p> + <p> + The foreman, or Juror No. 1, was an insurance agent. He was a man of fifty + and he knew how to talk. His voice was loud, firm, overriding and + unconquerable; his manner suave, tolerant, persuasive. The bailiff, after + obtaining each man's telephone number and the message he wished to have + sent to his home (if any), informed the jurors that he would be waiting + just outside if they wanted him and then departed, locking the door behind + him; whereupon the foreman looked at his watch and announced that it was + twenty minutes to four. This statement resulted in the first disagreement. + No two watches were alike. Some little time was consumed in proving that + all twelve of them were right and at the same time wrong, paradoxical as + it may sound. After the question of the hour had been disposed of, the + foreman suggested that an informal ballot be taken for the purpose of + ascertaining the views of the gentlemen as to the guilt or the innocence + of the defendant. The result of this so-called informal ballot was nine + for conviction, three for acquittal. + </p> + <p> + "Now we know where we stand," explained the foreman. "In view of the fact + that nine of us are for conviction and only three for acquittal it seems + to me that it is up to the minority to give their reasons for not agreeing + with the majority. I see by your ballot, Mr.—er—Mr. Sandusky, + that you are in favor of acquitting—" + </p> + <p> + "My name is I. M. Pushkin," interrupted Juror No. 7. "I wrote it plain + enough, didn't I?" + </p> + <p> + "The initials confused me," explained the foreman. "Well, let's hear why + you think he ought to be acquitted." + </p> + <p> + "I know what it is to be hungry, that's why. I see the time when I first + come to this country when I didn't have nothing to eat for two-three days + at a time, and ever'body tellin' me to go to hell out of here when I ask + for a job or when I tell 'em I ain't had nothing to eat since yesterday + morning and won't they please to help a poor feller what ain't had nothing + to eat since yesterday morning, and—" + </p> + <p> + Six or seven voices interrupted him. It was Juror No. 4, salesman, who + finally succeeded in getting a detached question to him. + </p> + <p> + "As I was saying, where do you get any evidence that he WAS hungry?" + </p> + <p> + "I guess you wasn't paying much attention to the evidence," retorted Mr. + Pushkin. "Didn't you hear that lawyer say, over and over yet, how he was + almost starved to death? Didn't—Wait a minute!—didn't you hear + him say to that deaf witness that the prisoner fell down like a log when + he push him in the face? Just push him,—nothing else. Didn't you + hear that?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure I heard it. We all heard it. But what EVIDENCE is there?" + </p> + <p> + "Evidence? My gracious, ain't that enough? Ain't one man's word as good as + another's? And say, let me ask you this: Is there any evidence that he + wasn't almost starved to death! Well! Humph! I guess not. There ain't a + single witness that says he wasn't hungry—not one, I tell you. You + can't—" + </p> + <p> + "Didn't all them policemen swear that he was as husky as—" + </p> + <p> + "Say, you can't believe a policeman about anything. It's their business. + That's what their job is. I know all about those fellers. Why, long time + ago when I first come to this country, I told a hundred policeman I was + almost starved to death and say, do you think they believed me? You bet + they didn't. They told me to get a move on, get the hell out of this, beat + it,—you bet I know all about them fellers. I—" + </p> + <p> + The foreman interrupted Mr. Pushkin. + </p> + <p> + "So you want to acquit the defendant because his lawyer said he was + hungry,—is that it?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't blame nobody for stealing when he is almost starved to death and + got a wife and children almost starved to death too because he cannot get + a job yet. You bet I don't. I don't—" + </p> + <p> + "Well, of all the damned—" + </p> + <p> + "Can you beat this for—" + </p> + <p> + "I've heard a lot of—" + </p> + <p> + The foreman rapped vigorously with an inkwell, splashing the fluid over + his fingers and quite a considerable area of table-top. + </p> + <p> + "Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Let us talk this thing over quietly and calmly. Mr. + Pushkin seems to have a wrong conception as to what constitutes evidence. + Now, let me have the floor for a few minutes, and I'll try to explain to + him what constitutes evidence." + </p> + <p> + One hour and twenty minutes later Mr. Pushkin admitted that he DID have a + wrong conception as to what constitutes evidence, but still maintained + that he hated like sin to convict a man who had tried so hard to get work + and couldn't. + </p> + <p> + The non-smoking gentleman was one of the three who comprised the minority. + He was a mild little chap with weak eyes and the sniffles. By profession + he was a clock maker. He said he believed that the defendant was + unquestionably guilty of bigamy and that the State had erred in charging + him with burglary. He was perfectly willing to send the man up for bigamy + because, according to the evidence, it took precedence over the crime + alleged to have been committed in December, 1919. In other words, he + explained, Smilk had committed bigamy some years prior to the burglary of + Mr. Yollop's apartment and he believed in taking things in their regular + order. Of course, he went on to say, he would be governed by the opinion + of the judge if it were possible under the circumstances to obtain it. He + did not think it would be legal to put the burglary charge ahead of the + bigamy charge, but if the judge so ordered he would submit, + notwithstanding his conviction that it would be unconstitutional. Several + gentlemen wanted to know what the constitution had to do with it, and he, + becoming somewhat exasperated, declared that the present jury system is a + joke, an absolute joke. + </p> + <p> + "Well, it's just such men as you that make it a joke," growled Juror No. + 12. + </p> + <p> + "Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" admonished the foreman. "Let us have no + recriminations, please. It occurs to me that we ought to send a note to + the court, asking for instructions on this point." + </p> + <p> + The note was written and despatched in care of the glowering bailiff, who, + it seems, had an engagement to go to the movies that evening and couldn't + believe his ears when he ascertained that the boobs had not yet agreed + upon a verdict in what he regarded as the clearest case that had ever come + under his notice. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, the third juror explained his vote for acquittal. He was + a large, heavy-jowled man with sandy mustache and a vacancy among his + upper teeth into which a pipe-stem fitted neatly. He was the + superintendent of an apartment building in Lenox Avenue. + </p> + <p> + "I think it's a frame-up," he said, pausing to use the bicuspid vacancy + for the purpose of expectoration. "That's what I think it is. Now I'm in a + position as superintendent of a flat building to know a lot about what + goes on among the bachelor tenants. I ain't sayin' that the prisoner + didn't go to Mr. What's-His-Name's flat without an invitation. You bet + your life he wasn't expected, if my guess is correct. I tell you what I + think,—and my opinion ought to be worth a lot, lemme tell you,—I + think there's something back of all this that wasn't brought out in the + trial. Now here's something I bet not one of you fellers has thought + about. What evidence is there that this Chancy woman is that deaf man's + sister? Not a blamed word of evidence, except their own statement. She + ain't his sister any more than I am. Did you ever see two people that + looked less like they was related to each other? You bet you didn't. Now I + got a hunch that the prisoner follered her to that guy's apartment. What + for, I don't know. Maybe for blackmail. He got onto what was goin' on, and + makes up his mind to rake in a nice bunch of hush-money. That's been done + a couple of times in the apartment buildin' I'm superintendent of. A + feller I had workin' for me as a porter cleaned up five or six hundred + dollars that way, he told me. This robbery business sounds mighty fishy to + me. Now I'm only tellin' you the way the thing looks to me. I don't think + that woman is Wollop's sister any more than she is mine. It's a frame-up, + the whole thing is. Look at the way this Wollop says he tied her up and + all that. Humph!—Can't you fellers see through this whole business? + He tied her up so's the police would find her tied up, that's what he + done. The chances are she's some woman customer of his that's got stuck on + him, tryin' hats and all that,—and maybe gettin' all the hats she + wants for nothin',—and this feller Smilk he gets onto the game and + goes out for a little money. See what I mean?" + </p> + <p> + So loud and so furious was the discussion that followed the extraordinary + deductions of Juror No. 9, that the bailiff had to rap half a dozen times + before he could make himself heard. Finally the foreman, purple in the + face, called out through the haze of smoke: + </p> + <p> + "Come in!" + </p> + <p> + "The judge says for you to come into the court room for instructions," + announced the officer. "Never mind your hats and coats. No cigars, gents. + Leave 'em here. They'll be safe. Come on, now. It's nearly time to go to + supper." + </p> + <p> + The judge informed the jury that they could not find the man guilty of + bigamy and curtly ordered them back to their room for further + deliberation. They took another ballot before going out to supper at a + nearby restaurant, guarded by six bailiffs, who warned them not to discuss + the case while outside the jury room. The second ballot, by the way, was + eight for conviction, four for acquittal. Juror No. 5 had come over to the + minority. He said there was something in the theory of Juror No. 9. + </p> + <p> + There was a very positive disagreement concerning the meal they were about + to partake of. The foreman spoke of it as dinner and was openly sneered at + by eleven gentlemen who had never called it anything but supper. The + little clockmaker, having been overruled by the judge, was in a nasty + temper. He accused the foreman of being a republican. He said no democrat + ever called it dinner. It wasn't democratic. + </p> + <p> + Upon their return to the jury room after a meal on which there was + complete agreement and which brought out considerable talk about the + penuriousness of the County of New York, they settled down to a prolonged + and profound discussion of their differences. It soon developed that all + but two of the jurors had been favorably inclined toward the defendant up + to the time the State introduced the unexpected wives. They had regarded + him as a poor unfortunate, driven to crime by adversity, and after a + fashion the victim of an arrogant and soulless police system, aided and + abetted by the District Attorney's minions, a contemptible robber in the + person of a dealer in women's hats, and a bejeweled snob who insulted + their intelligence by trying to convince them that her confidence had been + misplaced. But the two wives settled it. Smilk was a rascal. He ought to + be hung. + </p> + <p> + "But," argued No. 9, "how the devil do we know that them women ARE his + wives. Their evidence ain't supported, is it?" + </p> + <p> + "Didn't they have certificates?" demanded another hotly. + </p> + <p> + "Sure. But that don't prove that he was the man, does it?" + </p> + <p> + "And didn't the prisoner jump up and yell: 'My God, it's all off! You've + got me cold! You've got me dead to rights,'" cried another. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, there's no use arguin' with you guys," roared No. 9, disgustedly. + </p> + <p> + Later on they returned to the court room to have certain parts of Mr. + Yollop's testimony read to them. After this a ballot was taken, and the + only man for acquittal was the clock-maker. At twenty minutes to eleven he + succumbed, not to argument or persuasion or reason but to a chill February + draft that blew in through the open window above his head. He couldn't get + away from it. The others wouldn't let him. They got him up in a corner and + he couldn't break through. He told them he was getting pneumonia, that the + draft would be the death of him, that he'd take back what he said about + the smoke almost suffocating him,—still they surrounded him, and + argued with him, and called him things he didn't feel physically able to + call them, and at last he voted guilty. + </p> + <p> + Smilk, haggard with worry,—for he had come to think, as the hours + went by without a verdict, that there would be a disagreement or, worse + than that, an acquittal, in which case he would have to face the charge of + bigamy that the district attorney had more than intimated,—Smilk + slouched dejectedly into the court room a few minutes before eleven + o'clock and went through the familiar process of facing the jury while the + jury faced him. He straightened up eagerly when the verdict was read. He + took a long, deep breath. His eyes brightened,—they almost twinkled,—as + they searched the room in quest of Mr. Yollop. He was disappointed to find + that the gentle milliner was not there to hear the good news. + </p> + <p> + The judge sentenced him to twenty years imprisonment at hard labor, and he + went back to his cell in the Tombs, a triumphant, vindicated champion of + the laws of his State, a doughty warrior carrying the banner of justice up + to the very guns of sentiment. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Yollop received a friendly letter from him some two months after his + return to Sing Sing. He found it early one morning on his library table, + sealed but minus the stamp that the government exacts for safe and + conscientious delivery. Mr. Yollop's stenographer, being more or less + finicky about English as it should be written, even by thieves, is + responsible for the transcript in which it is here presented: + </p> + <h3> + DEAR FRIEND— + </h3> + <p> + I hope this finds you in the best of health. I am back on the job and very + glad to be so. It is very gay up here and I am getting fat also. Regular + hours is doing it, and no worry I suppose. I wish to inform you that the + movies have improved considerable since I was here before and our baseball + team is much better. Also the concerts and so on. Grub also up to + standard. I never eat better grub at the Ritz-Carlton. Which is no lie + either. Well, Mr. Yollop, before closing I want to say you done me a + mighty good turn when you thought of them two wives of mine. If it had not + been for them two women I guess it would have been all off with me. I wish + you would drop in here to see me if you are ever up this way so as I can + thank you in person. Which reminds me. There is some talk among the boys + that a movement is on foot to have a regular fancy dress ball up here once + a month. Some kind of a benevolent society is working on it they say. Big + orchestra, eats from Delmonico's and a crowd of girls from the smart set + to dance with us. So as we won't get out of practice, I suppose. Soon as I + hear when the first dance is to be I will let you know and maybe you will + come up to be present. I will introduce you to a lot of swell dames and + maybe you can drum up a nice trade among them on account of their all + being fashionable and needing a good many hats. It must be great to be in + a business like yours, where nobody cares how many times you rob them just + so you leave them enough money to buy shoes with, because if you ask me + they ain't wearing much of anything but hats and shoes these days. Well, I + guess I will close, Mr. Yollop. With kind regards from yours truly, I + remain + </p> + <p> + Yours truly, C. SMILK. + </p> + <p> + P. S.—I forgot to mention that this letter was left in your library + by a pal of mine who dropped in last night while you was asleep, unless he + got nabbed like a darned fool before he got a chance to do this friendly + little errand for me. He dropped in to get that wad of bills I left there + some time ago. If you get this letter he got the roll. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre> + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Yollop, by George Barr McCutcheon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOLLOP *** + +***** This file should be named 5866-h.htm or 5866-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/8/6/5866/ + +Etext produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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