The Argosy — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

aor - ae oe ee ies i - +} THREE THEORIES OF A CRIME. : 205 a cringing, cryiug infant. If I go gunning for deer, I don’t care to waste my ammunition on rabbits. I felt for him nothing but the deepest disgust. He fell to pieces fora few minutes like a distracted child, and I really feared his mind would give way under the severe tension. The words of the chief, however, recalled him to himself surprisingly. ‘Come, doctor,’’ said Donlan, ‘‘the game is up. Make a clean breast of the whole affair to Bright and me.’’ I was never so deceived in human nature in my life. He regained his composure instantly. His lips set firmly together and his large blue eyes, blurred with unshed tears a moment before, opened up with a steady, calm intelligence. ‘The position of a criminal, and worst of all, a murderer, chief, is an en- tirely new one for me,’’ he said with quiet deliberation. ‘‘ You will pardon if I decline to speak further than to assert my innocence.’’ ‘“Tt is useless, doctor, to assert your innocence,’’ I said, quoting his words sarcastically. ‘‘I know that the woman visited you a week ago last Wednes-: day; that you objected to further visits at the hospital ; that you decided to visit her at her room last Thursday evening; that you did so visit her instead of going out of town, as you stated at the hospital; that you re- mained in the building until three o’clock in the morning, and that the weapon bearing your initials, ‘H. T.’, and with which the crime was com- ‘mitted, was found where you yourself cast it,in the ash pit, as you made your escape from the rear end of the Baxter Building. You see, doctor, it is useless for you to attempt a defense.’’ ‘That you do know all these facts, Mr. Bright, is all the more reason why I should feel my way carefully in order to defend myself. Please consider this decision final—that I have nothing at all to say except that I am inno- cent of crime. When the proper time comes to speak I will tell the truth.’’ He spoke this in clear, decisive tones. He was nolonger the timid child, but the determined man, fighting for his life. Every vestige of nervous fear had departed from his frame. He was» composed, alert, resourceful ; and I felt that in the coming trial he would defend himself like a lion at bay. I will skip the details in the collection of the evidence against him. In due time I received a letter from the chief of police at Greenwood detailing his history. "The woman was identified as Lydia Sater, wife of John Sater, Dr. Throck’s foster brother. The best of good feeling had always apparently existed between them. Sater had disappeared from his home, leaving no trace behind. That was all. . Public opinion ran high. It was safe-to say that Dr. Throck had no friends. ‘The evidence was so overwhelmingly accusing that 10 one ven- tured to take his part. | Pending his examination, he refused to see a lawyer or speak a word about the case to any one, saying simply that he was innocent ; that he had his own story to tell, and be the consequences what they might, he would tell it in his own way. Though clearly convinced of his guilt I warmed toward him, for the Eomichbooks com