“Of course I did. And besides, he would often send me out for something at the restaurant or delicatessen; and I’d take it up, and he’d be there in the flat, and he’d give me a dollar, or sometimes even five.”
“So he was liberal, was he?”
“Sir?”
“He was good to you, was he?”
“Oh, yes; he always gave me something. He always had lots of money.”
“Do you know who this man was?”
“No, sir. That is, I don’t know his name.”.
“Do you know where he lived?”
“No, sir.”
“I see. And did he continue to call on Miss Reeves all the time you were there?”
“Yes, sir. Two or three times a week, except toward the last, when he didn’t come quite so often.”
The lawyer stopped to confer with Dan a moment. Then, with a nod of satisfaction, he turned again to the witness.
“Now, Cummings, do you remember whether this man whom you have described called at No. 714 West One Hundred and Fifty-seventh Street on the evening of Saturday, April 3, 1915?”
The witness’s answer was lost in a sudden stir which passed over the courtroom as the spectators leaned forward. Judge Manton took advantage of the interruption to beckon to an attendant for a glass of water. When it came he drank a little and placed me glass, still half full, before him on his desk. The last question was reread by me clerk, and the witness, repeated his answer:
“Yes, sir; he was there.”
“What time did he arrive?”
“I don’t know; I didn’t see him come in.”
“Did you see him at all that evening?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What time?”
“About half past eight, I think it was, the bell rang for the dumbwaiter. That was the way he always sent for me to come up when he wanted something. I went up and rang the bell at Miss Reeves’s door, and he opened it.”
“How was he dressed?”
“Why, he had on a black suit, except he had taken off his coat and put on a smoking jacket. He always did that.”
“Did you see Miss Reeves?”
“Yes, sir; I went inside the hall to wait, while he went to the desk to write something, and I saw Miss Reeves in the front room. She was sitting by the table, crying. She had her handkerchief up to her eyes.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“No, sir; she didn’t even look at me.”
“I see. What did the man go to the desk for?”
“He went for some paper to write down something. I remember he didn’t find any there, and he took a piece out of his pocket. He wanted to write down the name of some wine he wanted me to get. He wrote it down and gave it to me, and gave me a ten-dollar bill to get it with.”
Mr. Leg turned to find Dan at his elbow with a slip of paper in his hand. The lawyer took it, and examined it while the boy whispered in his ear. By this time every spectator in the room was listening intently to the witness’s every word. The prosecuting attorney had leaned forward in his chair with a new expression of interest for this unexpected Irishman. Judge Manton sat up straight, gazing at the prisoner Mount with an expressionless countenance.
“I have here,” Mr. Leg resumed, “a slip of paper bearing in ink the words, Bonneau et Mouet — Sec. Now, Cummings, is this the paper which this man in Miss Reeves’s apartment handed to you on the night of April third?”
The witness took the slip and examined it. “Yes, sir; that’s it,” he said finally. “That’s the name of the wine he wanted me to get.”
“And that’s the paper he wrote on and handed to you?”
“Yes, sir; it’s the same one,” answered Cummings. “It’s got that funny thing in the corner.”
Mr. Leg turned to the judge:
“Your honor, I wish to introduce this paper in evidence.”
Judge Manton merely inclined his head. The clerk took the slip and marked it.
“Now, Cummings,” went on the lawyer, “after this man gave you the slip of paper, what did you do?”
“I went out after the wine.”
“Did you get it?”
“Yes, sir, but I had a hard time. I always went to a wine store at the corner of One Hundred and Fifty-eighth Street and Broadway, but they didn’t have this kind, so I went down to One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street, and I had to go to four or five stores before I could find it. I was gone about an hour, or maybe more, because when I got back it was nearly ten o’clock.”
“All right, go on. You took the wine upstairs?”
“Yes, sir. I went up to Miss Reeves’s apartment, and I was about to ring the bell when I heard her crying inside. She was crying and talking very loud.”
“Could you hear what she was saying?”
“Some of it, yes, sir. I heard her say, ‘Let me go! I love him! Let me go!’ Then I heard the man’s voice, only he didn’t talk as loud as she did; but I could hear him even plainer than her. He was saying, ‘You’ll stay right here; do you hear? I won’t let you go back to him; do you hear? Let him wait all night if he wants to.’ I didn’t want to ring the bell while they were going on like that, so I stood and listened for a long while. Miss Reeves kept crying, and the man kept swearing at her. He kept saying, ‘I won’t let you go back to him!’
“Finally I got tired waiting and rang the bell. I guess I stood there half an hour. The man opened the door, and he told me to come in, and go and put the wine in the refrigerator. I went back to the kitchen and unwrapped it, and put the bottle on the ice. Then I went out again. As soon as I closed the door behind me I heard them begin fighting again inside.”
“Do you remember what became of the slip of paper on which this man had written the name of the wine?”
“Yes, sir; I remember they had wrapped it up with the wine. I threw it on the floor with the wrapping paper.
“I see. What did you do after you left the apartment?”
“I turned down the lights in the halls, and then went down to the basement and got ready to go to bed.”
“Do you know what time that was?”
“Yes, sir; when I wound my clock it was twenty minutes past ten. I put some coal on the hot-water furnace and locked the basement doors and went to bed.”
“Well?”
“Well, I’d been in bed, I guess, about half an hour and was nearly asleep when there was a knock on the door. I went—”
“You mean the door of your room?”
“Yes, sir; the room in the basement where I was sleeping. I got up and lit the gas and opened the door, and there stood the colonel.”
“The colonel?”
“That’s what I called the man who called on Miss Reeves. He stepped inside the room, and I saw that he had a big bundle of papers and things in his hand. He had on his hat and light overcoat, and the muffler he always wore around the lower part of his face. He told me to close the door because he had the bundle in his hands, and then he said, ‘Hurry up, Cummings; dress yourself. Don’t ask me any questions.’ “
“I knew at once from his funny voice and the way he looked at me that something had happened. I didn’t say a word, but dressed myself as quick as I could. When I was done he said, ‘Where’s the furnace? I want to burn this stuff.’ I went back and opened the furnace door, and he threw the papers and things on the fire. He wouldn’t let me help him.”
“Did you see any of the articles? Do you know what they were?”
“No, sir; only there was a lot of letters and other papers. I supposed they came from Miss Reeves’s—”
“Never mind what you supposed. Go on.”
“Well, after the stuff was burned up we went back in front. He had me sit down in a chair, and then he said, ‘Cummings, I’ve got a proposition to make to you. I’ll give you a thousand dollars cash to leave New York immediately and put yourself where nobody can find you.’