ON TRIAL.
The trial of Ben Stone had begun. It was held in the Town Hall, which
proved none too large to hold comfortably the surprising number of
curious persons who flocked thither; for in any small country town that
is somewhat removed from larger places those inhabitants who can spare
the time to do so seldom fail to attend such an affair, which provides
for their more or less uneventful lives a certain sort of entertainment
and a topic out of the ordinary for discussion. On this occasion they
had almost completely filled the seats in the hall, staring at the
judge, the lawyers, the witnesses and the prisoner, and filling the
room with a suppressed hum of comment until called to order.
The clerk had done his part, the case had been stated, and Lawyer
Frances, representing the prosecution, had made his opening, telling
plainly and concisely what he would attempt to prove. A part of the
stolen property—all that had been recovered—together with some other
articles in evidence, could be seen on a table at the judge’s elbow.
The prisoner sat at one side, with his counsel, Lawyer Marsh, near him.
His face was calm; but it was not an attractive face, and more than
one, gazing at it, had whispered to a neighbor that he _looked_ like a
thief. It is remarkable how quickly most persons may fancy they can
perceive criminal indications in the features of any one charged with
crime and placed under arrest.
Not far from Ben—as near as they would permit him—sat his blind
brother, Jerry; and beside Jerry was seen Henry Bailey, the man from
whom the afflicted boy had hidden repeatedly in his flight, after his
uncle’s death. Bailey was a harmless, kindly-appearing person, who
showed the greatest interest in every move of the trial, and who more
than once was seen to speak a few low words in a seemingly reassuring
manner into the ear of Jerry Stone. Pilot, the faithful, lay on the
floor at Jerry’s side.
Of course Bern Hayden was on hand, and his father also. Bern was with
the witnesses, but Mr. Hayden sat back, watching and listening in cold
and distant satisfaction. The other witnesses were William Pickle,
Roger Eliot, Sleuth Piper, and Spotty Davis, the last mentioned
displaying a great deal of uneasiness, which at times amounted almost
to fear.
The first person called upon was the deputy sheriff, who, questioned by
Lawyer Frances, stated that upon the previous night he was at
Stickney’s store shortly after supper, where Bern Hayden found him and
told him that there had been a robbery, adding the request that he
should at once find Ben Stone, whom Hayden suspected, and search him.
In company with Bern, Pickle had gone to the house of Mrs. Jones and
obtained admission to the room of the suspected lad, only to discover
that the room was empty, and, from indications, that Ben and his
brother had made hasty flight.
“Go on, officer,” urged Lawyer Frances. “What did you do then?”
“At young Hayden’s request I searched the place,” said Pickle. “Under
the straw tick of the bed I found two watches, two rings, and some
money, amounting to purty nigh ten dollars.”
“Are these the watches and the rings?” questioned the lawyer, handing
the articles to the witness for inspection.
“Yep,” nodded Pickle positively, “them’s they. I looked them over, and
I’m reddy to swear they’re the ones.”
“And the money here——”
“I wouldn’t swear to that; but they was a five dollar bill, a two
dollar bill, and quite a lot of coin.”
“Did you find anything else?”
“Yep; a letter—that is, a sort of a letter, writ in lead pencil and
apparently scratched off in a mighty hurry.”
“Is this it?” The sheet on which Ben had written his hasty farewell to
Mrs. Jones was taken from the table and handed to the deputy sheriff
for inspection.
“Sartin, that’s it,” declared the officer. “I read the most of it,
though part was scrawled so that I couldn’t make it out.”
“Your Honor,” said the prosecuting attorney, “the chirography is that
of a person writing in great haste, and therefore somewhat difficult to
read. I am sure, however, that I can read it; and with your permission
I will do so.”
The judge gave consent, and Mr. Frances read the note slowly and
distinctly, placing particular emphasis on certain phrases. Listening,
Ben Stone was astounded and almost appalled as he realized that to most
persons that brief note must sound like a confession of guilt.
Pickle went on to tell how, urged by Bern Hayden and his father, he had
set out at once to trace the fugitives, and had finally succeeded,
through the discovery of the blind boy’s little dog, in apprehending
Ben some miles beyond Barville.
“Course,” concluded the officer, “we give the feller warnin’ that
anything he said might be used as evidence ag’in’ him, and I ruther
guess he kept it in mind; for, ’though we talked with him considerable
on the way back to Oakdale, he didn’t make no slip-ups, and he
pertended all the time not to know nothin’ at all ’bout the robbery. I
says to Constable Hubbard, says I, ‘He’s a slick critter, an——’”
“Never mind that,” interrupted Judge Trueworthy. “Your opinions of the
prisoner’s conduct are not desired.”
“’Scuse me, Your Honor,” said William Pickle.
That was all; with a gesture Lawyer Marsh signified that he did not
wish to cross-question the officer, and Pickle sat down.
Bern Hayden was called next, and as he rose Ben Stone’s hand
involuntarily went up to his mutilated ear, while his pale face became,
if possible, a shade more pallid. He kept his eyes unflinchingly on
Bern, who, after a single look in his direction, turned his gaze aside.
Bern told his story without hesitation. Chancing to overhear Stone
bidding Eliot good-by at the football field, an impulse had led him to
leave the field and follow the fellow. Having seen Ben proceed directly
into the village, however, he had returned to the field and practiced
with the team until it became too dark for further work. With the
others he had gone into the gymnasium, where two lockers, his and
Eliot’s, had been discovered broken open and rifled. He had lost his
watch, two rings, and some money, nearly eight dollars, which he had
left in his own locker. He then identified one of the watches and both
of the rings as belonging to him, further stating that the money left
by him in his locker was a five dollar bill, a two dollar bill, and
change which must have amounted to nearly a dollar and a half. Knowing
Ben Stone as he did, he had suspected him at once, and therefore he
went in search of the deputy sheriff, whom he had some difficulty in
finding. He had been on hand when Pickle searched Stone’s room, and had
seen the officer uncover the stolen property and take possession of
Ben’s note of farewell to Mrs. Jones.
Bern having finished, Lawyer Marsh cross-questioned him.
“Hayden,” said the lawyer, “you were acquainted with Benjamin Stone ere
you came here to Oakdale, were you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You knew him, I believe, in Hilton, his native town?”
“I did, sir.”
“And, if I am not misinformed, you had some trouble with him there, did
you not?”
“Yes.”
“Was not this trouble of a somewhat serious nature—a personal encounter
between you and Stone, which led you to entertain the most intense
feelings of animosity toward him?”
“I object, Your Honor,” cried Lawyer Frances. “I can’t see what this
has to do with the present case.”
“Your Honor,” beamed Marsh placidly, “I propose to establish that this
feeling of animosity which young Hayden entertained toward Stone has a
great deal to do with the case. I propose to show a motive on Hayden’s
part which might lead him into an effort to injure my client.”
“Go on,” said the judge. “Objection overruled.”
The lawyer repeated the question, and, after a bit of hesitation,
Hayden answered:
“We had a fight in Hilton, but even before that I had no use for Stone.
He was a cheap, ruffianly fellow, and nobody thought anything of him in
that town. His father——”
“Never mind that,” interrupted Marsh sharply. “Answer my questions,
that’s all. You admit a feeling of dislike for Stone?”
“Nobody ever liked him—before he came here; and he wouldn’t have had
any friends here if, by accident, he hadn’t——”
“We’ll cut that out also. Is it not true that on finding Stone in this
town you exerted your utmost efforts to turn your schoolmates against
him and to force him out of school? Did you not induce your father to
go to Principal Richardson of the academy for the purpose of urging him
to turn Benjamin Stone out?”
Unable to restrain himself longer, Lemuel Hayden sprang up, crying:
“Look here, I want to know if it’s my son who is on trial.”
“Not yet, sir—not yet,” answered Lawyer Marsh serenely.
The judge rapped sharply for order and requested Mr. Hayden not to
interrupt the proceedings.
Having led Bern into acknowledging he had done his best to force Ben
out of Oakdale Academy, Lawyer Marsh seemed satisfied. Lawyer Frances,
however, was far from it; and immediately, by various questions, he
tried to show that Bern, knowing the dangerous and desperate character
of Stone, had tried to get him dropped from the school because he did
not believe he was a fit person to associate with the academy scholars.
At this Lawyer Marsh simply smiled.
Roger Eliot came next, identifying one of the watches as belonging to
him, and stating he had lost a little over two dollars in coin, which
had been taken from his locker.
These were all the witnesses against the prisoner, and Marsh, after a
brief opening address, began by calling those who had been summoned for
him. Henry Bailey, the first, was requested to explain his business in
Oakdale. Mr. Bailey stated that, following the death of Asher Rand,
Jerry Stone, the blind boy, had disappeared ere the funeral could take
place or Mr. Rand’s will be read. Bailey had been engaged to learn
whence the blind boy had gone and bring him back. In endeavoring to do
this he had been led a hard chase, failing more than once by the
smallest margin in getting his hands upon the elusive boy, and in the
end the pursuit had brought him to Oakdale.
At this point Lawyer Frances interrupted. “Your Honor, I fail to see
what this has to do with the case.”
“Your Honor,” smiled Marsh, “we are seeking to establish the motive for
the sudden flight of Ben Stone from this town, and we hope to show
beyond doubt that he did not run away because he had committed theft,
but because he knew this pursuer of his brother had arrived and
feared—unreasonably, doubtless—that it boded harm to the blind lad.”
Ben was next called upon, and after a moment of faltering he told his
story in a slow, distinct manner, making it straightforward and simple.
And as he proceeded the unfavorable impression that had prevailed
concerning him was gradually dispelled; for surely he did not speak
like a desperate character or a thief; nor was Lawyer Frances, by his
sternest and most accusing cross-questioning, able to confuse the lad
or shake him in his statements. When at last Ben was permitted to sit
down, not a few of the listeners in that room were looking at one
another questioningly and doubtfully.
Spotty Davis came next. He trembled visibly as he rose, and his parted
lips, revealing the space of the two missing teeth in his upper jaw,
seemed to quiver. Glancing furtively from side to side, but never once
looking straight toward Stone, he finally let his gaze rest upon the
floor.
“Young man,” said Lawyer Marsh, “you were at the football field when
Stone appeared last evening and spoke to Roger Eliot, were you not?”
“Ye-yes,” faltered Spotty faintly.
“Speak a bit louder, witness,” commanded the judge.
“When Stone left the field you followed him, didn’t you?” asked Marsh.
“I—I dunno; I guess so. I never noticed.”
“Do you mean to say that you did not see Stone when he departed from
the field?”
“Why, nun-no; I saw him. I guess ’t’wa’n’t long after he left before I
got out. There wa’n’t no use hangin’ round longer, for Eliot had tole
me he didn’t want me on the team any more.”
“On leaving the field, whither did you go?”
“To the gym.”
“Did you find Stone there?”
“Nope—no, sir. There wa’n’t nobody there.”
“Why did you go to the gym?”
“To peel off my togs. I was in a playing suit, you know. It didn’t
belong to me; it belonged to the team, so I left it in the gym.”
“How long were you in the gymnasium?”
“Can’t tell; not a great while. It didn’t take me no longer than was
necessary to git off my football suit, git into my own rags and leave.
There wa’n’t nothing for me to hang round there for.”
“After leaving the gymnasium where did you go?”
“Lemme see,” hesitated Spotty as if in doubt. “I don’t seem to remember
just where I did go.”
“Come, come, young man; of course you remember. You must remember.
You’ll find it best to remember, I think. Where did you go?”
“Oh, I sort of poked along into the village.”
“Into the village? Where did you go in the village?”
“Oh, I remember now,” said Spotty suddenly. “I thought there was
something wrong with Stone—thought it was queer he didn’t stay for
practise; so I just run in to Mrs. Jones’ house to see him.”
“You went to Stone’s room, did you?”
“Yep—I mean yes, sir.”
“Was Stone there?”
“No; his brother was, though.”
“The blind boy?”
“Yes, he was there.”
“How long did you stay in Stone’s room?”
“Oh, lemme see. I’d have to guess at it, for I ain’t got no watch, and
I didn’t take no notice of time, anyhow. Mebbe I was there five minutes
or so.”
“What did you do while you were there?”
“Talked with Ben’s brother.”
“Did you sit down?”
“Don’t b’lieve I did. Yes, come to think of it, I set on the edge of
the bed while I was talkin’ to him. What are you askin’ me all these
questions for? I don’t know anything about this business. I can’t tell
anything that will do no good.” Spotty was perspiring freely, even
while he continued to shiver occasionally.
“We’re simply trying to get at the facts,” said Lawyer Marsh quietly.
“It’s always best to tell the exact truth.”
“I hope you don’t think I’m lyin’,” protested the disturbed witness. “I
ain’t got nothing to lie about.”
“Did you see Ben Stone at all?”
“Yep; he was just comin’ in as I was leavin’. He was in an awful rush.”
“Did you stop to speak with him?”
“No; I was goin’ to stop, but he was in such a hurry I didn’t. He acted
mighty queer to me—sort of scat like.”
“That’s all, young man,” said the lawyer suddenly; and Spotty sank down
with a breath of relief.
Then came a surprise as the lawyer said:
“The next witness for the defense will be William Piper. Piper, stand
up.”
Sleuth rose to his feet, and there was a stir among those boys of the
academy who had absented themselves from school to attend the trial.
What did Piper know about it?
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