Evening Star Newspaper, November 21, 1928, Page 29

THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTON, D. €, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1928. e e THE TULE MARSH MURDER BARR MAVITY v Copyright, 1928, by Bell Syndicate, Inc gh, the gr that their m: Dy. on the Heral h. Instead yond recounit of scalp Dr of promise g hey find David O he 1s protecting some is bound by a sense ©f honor. CHAPTER XXXVIL cess of a theatrical production, but the trial of David Orme | “sure fire” from the be- UBLIC interest in a murder trial is as unpredictable as the suc- was ginning. t's got everythin th enthustasm. * big money. It's story!"” Petey, glared dourly at his fellow arried him hu- | man beings as he fought his way through the crowd in front of the court house. It was a_quiet, even a| contented crowd, content to stand and | stare all day at the familiar outlines | of the building—familiar and yet| subtly dramatic now because of the drama of life and death opening behind $ts walls.s There was absolutely nothing “And you wouldn't understand a word of it if you did. You'll learn a whole lot more if you go home and read the Herald!” “Well, T never did see the tside of a courtroom,” the old lady persisted plaintively. “I thought it would be kind of nice to see it once.” That_was what it was to them—a show. It would be equally a show if |it were Barbara inside instead of Orme. A hastily erccted fence of unpaint- ed laths walled off the entrance to | Dapartment 24. Peter ran the gamut of six policemen, holding fast to his card of admittance: “Press Pass. Admit J. A. Piper. representing Herald to all Court Sessions of Orme Trial, Attest A. W. Moore, clerk; Charles Harv * | Judge. Seat number 53.” It was his Z | ticket to the arena, where the gladi- ators would lunge at one another with their word-lances, where the judge would loll in his chair—"thumbs up, thumbs down.” And outside, the blind- ¢ patient crowd, waiting hungrily for its_crumbs of vicarious excitemen Peter flung himself, worn and dishev- elled, into seat 53. Inside the court- Toom it was very quiet. In one corner a muted telegraph instrument ticked sharply, like the sound of an industri- - |ous cricket. Behind the railing which d, ne a recognized the roll of fat on the back of the neck of the district attorney, the scrubbed blondeness, like a small boy just out of the tub, of the young defense lawyer, the stalwart, mother- less shoulders of Dr. Cavanaugh. Orme him: was overshadowed by the huge About Cascara divided the courtroom in half, Peter | figure of the deputy sheriff from the homicide squad who sat beside him. Twelve men and women ranged in two rows along the side wall contrived to look at the same time blank and self consclous. One of them wore a green hat perched high above her sallow face. Peter decided that a hat like that deserved a peremptory challenge. “The case of the people against Da- vid Orme . . . as alleged in the in- dictment . . . That he did willfully and feloniously murder one Sheila Ells- worth . . .” intoned the district at- torney. The judge, with a face all sharp angles, like a cubist drawing, topped by hair that glistened like spun sugar, rapped out questions. _ “Conscientious scruples against the death penalty in a proper case . . . Any prejudice for or against the de- fense of insanity . . . The criterion of accountability is this.” Questions. Questions. Questions. “The people will excuse Mr. War- Ten . . . . The challenge is with the defense . . . The defense will excuse Mrs. Barnes.” That was the woman in the green hat. Thank Heaven he would not have to face that hat in the jury box day after day! The personnell in the 12 chairs shift- ed. The balliff pulled slips of, paper out of a revolving tin box and boom- ed new names, one by one. Orme— Peter could see him now, over the shoulder of the sheriff—sat with fold- ed arms, staring dreamily into space, his profile motfonless in relief against the plaster of the wall. Not once did he glance towards the jury box. The questions and challenges floated unno- ticed over his head. Not once did he start at the Ellsworth,” Occulists’ Prescriptions Filled CLAFLIN 922 14th St. A Doctor Talks P It is unfortunate that many peo- ple judge the thoroughness of a for them to see, Peter reflected cros laxative by its violence. The salts and yet they thought nothing of wait- ing there, hour after hour. There ‘were women with small children jam- med egainst their skirts, men carry- ing their lunches in paper bags. Ropes guarded by policemen cleared a lane to the doors; but inside, the crowd pour- ed itself down the corridors from wall to wall. They showed no disposition to make way for Peter. “I'm sorry, you'll have to let me through,” he reiterated mechanically, displaying his press badge and rein- forcing it with the sharp prodding of elbows. “There’s too many of these here press fellows, that's what's keeping everybody else out. Where do they get all their pull, anyhow?” Peter shouldered the speaker aside, forcing his way forward, yard by yard. “Say, young man, how do you get in to sce this boy that's killed somebody? I've been here since 6 o'clock this morning and I ain't no nearer than when ‘I started.” Peter felt the pressure of a hand on his arm and turned to look down into - the face of a neat little old lady, garb- ed in her “best” of faded black. 3 ou don’t get in,” he snapped. that rush through the system may not even penetrate the film of poisonous matter that has coated the colon. A long list of drugs will “loosen the bowels” but what is the best way to CLEANSE them? The world’s best laxative is one that Mother Nature makes in her own Iaboratory. It is the bark cf a tree, called CASCARA. The In- dians used to chew this bark—and reach old age without a sick day. It is the best thing there is today, for any system; best for the blood. The most beneficial in its action on the bowels, of anything yet disclosed. For many reasons: First of all, there is no HABIT CASCARETS They Work While You Sleep! DULIN formed from cascara. The bowels are not weakened, but strength- ened by its occasional use. The occasions when one needs this aid grow less and less. Its influence is long-felt. You don’t find your- self worse bound-up the day fol- lowing. You do find the bowels more inclined to move of their own volition. The candy Cascaret that every drugstore always has in stock is the ideal form of cascara. & MARTIN COMPANY Three Unusually Interesting Ruby or white frosted glass, with small cut design. A copy of a colonial oil lamp. ‘This novel lamp with a pot- Colonial type oil lamp, in plain, clear “crystal, $‘5 25 l and hammered on Peter's conscious- ness until he wanted to strike out against them in unreasonable fury. The very worst feature of being tried for murder, Peter decided, was the torturing, abysmal boredom of it. If they would only get on with it! The press correspondents slumped in their chairs, jotting down the names and addresses of jurors and crossing them out again when they were challenged. A “sketch artist” in the row ahead amused himself by drawing a libelous caricature of the court reporter. With one accord the men and women in the jury box denied that they eves read nything in the newspapers or had ver heard of the murder of Sheila O'Shay. The faint slip-slip of pencils on copy paper, the chirping of the telegraph cricket sounded as a con- stant faint overtone to the droning of questions and answers. There was an indefinable stir, like winds sweeping through a. forest. ourt adjourned until 2 o'clock.” “Order in the courtroom, please! your seats!” First juror chosen in Orme Mur- der trial"—it would be shouted in “ex- tras” on every corner within the hour. Stumbling and pushing, the reporters crowded the aisle, breaking for the telephones in the witness room out- side. “Bet you two bits they don't get a jury in a week!"” “Not with Judge Harvey—he'll speed ‘em. Say, do you remember in the Cogswell case he told ’em he was go- ing to begin trying it by Monday noon, Jjury or no jury?” Peter grimmaced over his shoulder at the “Q and A" twins of the Herald staff. They sat in adjacent seats, one of them taking down in shorthand the questions and the other the answers to the testimony. Between whiles, they invariably engaged in a spirited con- flict over the expected progress of the case in hand. As he turned, Peter for the first time had an obstructed view of the chairs set back from the table, within the enclosure. “Here, Harry!” He thrust his pages of notes into the hand of the nearest of the Q and A twins. “Take care of this for me, will you? Phone it in to the office and tell Jimmy I'll be around to Grite the rest of the story in half an hour.” And if e tells you to remind me there's a 1 o'clock deadline, you tell him if T miss it he can fire me, and to_go to—anywhere you like.” Peter nudged his way up the aisle and vaulted the low railing to the en- closed area, his eyes fixed on a small black hat just visible above the back of a chair. “Barbara!” he exclaimed, “Why did you come? How did you get in?" ‘The little figure in the big chair fac- ed him calmly. “Father got a pass for me,” she an- nounced. “He's to be an expert wit- ness, you know, and I've never seen him in action. I told him I thought it might be interesting.” Peter won- dered if he would ever in the world get over being astonished at Barbara. Except for the tired lines about her eyes, she was as nonchalant as if they had met in the lobby of a theater in- stead of a courtroom. “But you mustn't stay. You mustn’t,” Peter said in a low tone. “It's too much for you to stand. And it won't do anybody a particle of good.” “Won't you sometime ask me some- thing ‘that I don't have to say ‘No to, Peter?” For one moment her up- turned face was full of appealing wist- fullness; the next, it had hardened into a look of weary fortitude. “How can T nossibly know what will do any good, unless I stay to find out?” she said, " (Continued in - Tomorrow's Star.) WANTED Antique Navajo Blankets Must be in good condition. Write full description — also origin, age and history, if known. Address J. 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