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p ' I f " First Episode ^ 7 MARY'S DEFENSE IS Philip Langdon's oar threaded ZA its way through the heavy / \ traffic, dodging drays and clamorous trolleys on its way toward the grim building where so many tragedies are staged by "the law" the young attorney felt his heart sink into engulfing waves of doubt and r XVUi . , For the first time since the beginning [ . of the trial he had lost his buoyant hope, his tremendous faith in his ability to prove Mary Page innocent and if need be to snatch her from a cell by the sheer power of his love. The evidence was so overwhelming, so irrefutable. And Mary herself utterly unable to explain those last tragic moments. He knew she couldn't remember?couldn't explain. But the jury would not be convinced. He re, Ailzed that I Over and over in his brooding mind lie saw again the tragedy of that night when the body of James Pollock, the Clubman and wine agent, had been ! ifonnd with a bullet in its heart and beside it the unconscious figure of Mary Page. Between them had lain that revolver with its one accusatory empty chamber, the revolver that Mary herself a'dmitted sbe had carried That Mary was inuocent he hud never doubted. His love was too great to admit of doubt, but he was a lawyer, and now he saw only too rlearly that his defense might prove unconvincing In the face of the damnatory factsfirst, that Mary had hated and feared James Pollock, who forced his atten tions upon her; secoud. that she had' ?5 --S in f"h A fmnf vaineu LUC uiuuvu ?** -? ?~? I of her dress when she went into the anteroom where Pollock was waiting, and, third, that the shooting had occurred directly after the door had clos ed npon the two of them. If he. Langdon, had only been five minutes earlier?that was the acid that ate into his souL If he had only reached that door five minutes sooner perhaps that fatal shot would never have been fired. He wondered irritably why it was that the public, and that portion of it that comprised the jury, couldn't see how improbable it was that Mary would have ruined her career in such a fashion, however much she hated ' Pollock. It was inconceivable that a gin WOO ai ilit? lauiug ui me vunoiii I l at 11 o'clock had touched the goal for I which she had striven and been hailed as the greatest star of the century could have killed a man of her own accord at midnight and watched the dawn come from a cell in the Tombs. He knew how much her career had x^meant to Mary. How close to her heart ^'ls the triumph and the fame, and to lose it this wayHe sighed heavily, then, realizing that they were approaching the Tombs and that to the world at least he must be the confident attorney, he straightened his shoulders and forced a smile to his lips. Close to the curb two women wTere listening while a third read aloud from the early edition of an afternoon paper, stippling the monotony of her tones by ejaculations and questions. From his car Langdon could plainly see the huge headlines two women were reading: 1 LOVER'S LAST FIGHT FOR LIFE. ! ' I State's Case Against Famous Actress ? Almost Complete ? Young Lawyer Fights Final Hopeless Battle. ? With a shudder of aversion Langdon dragged his eyes away. The notoriety iof it was almost as bitter to him as i the awful overshadowing fear. He ihated to think that Mary's name should i be dragged in the mud of common gossip as an actress who had shot a millionaire in the anteroom of a huge tiiotel, while just outside the door, amid [laughter and music and lights, the icrreat world indulged in supper danc ing. He hated the thought that his love for Mary had become a spicy morsel to be rolled on the tongues of the igeneral public, but, after all, what he ;had to bear was pitifully small coml [pared to the burden on Mary's own !slim shoulders. | The car drew up at the curb, and as iLangdon leaped out somebody shouted tharshly: "Here's LangdonT' And the whole throng of men and women came surging toward him, sweeping him into the current of a wave of humanity. Jostling and staring, they flung a thouk. ieon.1 /mQcHnn? at him. nulled at his I [OUiJU V^UVUliVAJv 1 4 ?? ak lanns and pressed against him until at j 'last the impregnable doors clanged beibind him. leaving him breathless with ',a feeling o? being bruised and battered mentally as well as physically. The quiet of the prison was almost I [like peace for the moment, but he j Hlf ?ww?wBM?n?fapYUHHIW "111 The Stran MARY The Great McClure My: FREDERICK LEWIS JOHN T. M'INTYRE, Kirk Detective Stories and See the E^rsam knew that beyond that pool of silence in which he stood another clamorous throng surged about the door of the court and filled the room itself?thousands of tbem, some men and many women, voracious for sensation, glutted with the lure of this tremendous tragedy that was being played for thfsggjjy living puppets. The law had inueed discovered the secret that every theatrical manager sighs to know? "what the public wants." With a word or two to the officials. Langdon went hurriedly down the * ? ? li- ~ + echoing corridors to Mary s i-eu; row after row of monotonous barred doors, from behind which faces peered out with idle curiosity?faces, savage, despairing, dull with indifference or ravaged by tears. But they meant nothing to Langdon, for heart and brain alike were speeding on ahead of him to that distant narrow room where Marv waited * I At the cell door he halted and quick- ; ly removed his hat, unhidden tears 1 springing to his eyes, for Mary was ' kneeling iike a little child, her head in h^* mother's lap, and the elder woman was peaying aloud: ^'And God give us strength to go through this day and grant justice to this, my cbildr "Justice, (tear God, justice!" echoed Mary. Aad do artistry of the great actress eo*& hare given to that-simple prayer tb? poignancy that a great faith and a gpeat sorrow gave to it T&en tb?* spied Langdon, and Mary, jumping op, gavt a ery of joy and ran fet? hii *r??. H? held her tigbtly, and the actress iB her would have applauded if had known the effort that lay back ef his cheery greeting, his word of hope and the tender smile j with which ke put into her hand white roses to pte against her dark frock. "I think we had better go on into court now," he said as she drew the blossoms through her belt 'The men are waiting, and it's about time, you know." ? * * j For an instant Mary snuaaeivu anu clung to him with closed eyes. "If I could only be there without going across that awful bridge." she sighed. "Somehow the people are less j terrible when they are sitting down and keeping quiet." "I know, dear, I know," said Langdon sadly. "I wish to God I could spare you, but it's really only their ! way of expressing sympathy, and I'll! give you a happy thought to say to i yourself when you cross today. Just look straight ahead and say over and ovpr: 'Todav Philio begins my defense. Today we will begin to prove my innocence.' " "When you think"?cried Mrs. Page. "The state will undoubtedly rest its case this morning," he answered gravely. "Our chance is coming now." "Oh. then 1 shan't mind anything," I cried Mary and, kissing him, lifted her lovely head. And now the end was almost come. The last witness for the state was I "If I could oniy be there without going ! across that awful bridge." called to the stand, and Langdon' drew a deep breath. Unless some one was called in rebut'il he knew that now the final stone was to be laid in that carefully bnilt tower of evidence against Mary Page. The policerliad swom that they saw Mary threaten James Pollock with a revolver in the park that afternoon. Employees of the theater had testified to her fear of his attentions; her own maid had been forced to admit with faltering tongue that her mistress had cried out that he was a aevn, ana sue wished he was dead. Waiters and innumerable patrons of the Etotel Republic, revelling in the publicity, had told gloatingly of having seen Mary Page, drunk Apparently, reel" from the cafe on the night of the murder and go directly to tbe anteroom where ge Case of PAGE stery Story, Written by T- ^ /?11akrtf?^If?n WIlJl All Vuuai/UIUUVM tow* Author of the Ashton i. Head the Story zy Moving 'Picture opyright, 1915, by McClure Publication I gy?jr-James Pollock was waiting. And now j | the last man was on the stand?the hotel detective who, together with Lang- j don himself, had found the dead man with his living but unconscious companion. The monotonous questions of name ami nomination were rattled off swiftly enough, and then the detective, with the ease of one used to tesI timony, gave a brief res'JH*? of how he j had first been called by the head wait found IViary Page lying in a faint." er, to whom complaints had been made of the riotous behavior of a big supper party from one of the theaters. , j "It was a pretty noisy bunch," he said coolly. "But they didn't seem to be doing any harm, so I just stood at the door watching them, and presently James.Pollock came in. ."He was in evening dress," he continued, "and he 'called a bellhop and gave him a message, pointing out the young lady who was sitting at the head of the table with the noisy party." "Was rhat young lady Miss Page?" asked the district attorney, indicating Mary with a jerk of his head. "It was." said the detective firmly. "Then Mr. Pollock went down to what we call the little gray room and. going In, shut the door. The bellhop started into the dining room, but almost be, fore he'd taken a step the young lady. Miss Page, threw her wineglass on the floor with a hysterical sort of laugh and came reeling out of the room with her hands stretched out, as if she didn't know where she was going. "I turned away to call one of the maids to take charge of her, and when I came back she was making straight for the gray room, walking as firmly as if she'd never had a drink in her life. She went in and shut the door, and a minute afterward Mr. Langdon there comes flying out of the cafe and shouts: "'Which way did Miss rage,gor 44 4In the gray room,' I answered, and with that he ran toward it, with me beside him, hut before we got there we heard a shot, dnd"? He paused, enjoying to the full the sensation of the moment and the tense whispering wave of sound that quivered through the crowded room. "When we had broken in the door we found James Pollock shot through the heart and Mary Page lying in a faint beside him with a revolver not sis inches from the ends of her fingers." Mary, who had been watching him as if fascinated, quailed from that curt, almost vindictive, description- of the finding of the bodies of the living and the dead, and, resting her arms on the edge of the does, sne Duneu uer xaue in them and for the first time sobbed bitterly. A murmur of sympathy arose, and several people stood up, only to be rudely pushed back into their seats by those behind. And now the district attorney, going to the grewsome array of "exhibits" in the case, picked up the revolver and, showing it to the jury, put it into the detective's hands. "Is this the revolver," he demanded J dramatically, "and is the prisoner the I woman whom you found locked in the ! room with the dead body of James Pollock "Yes," aaswered the detective. And at the word the pencils of the reporters began to spin like mad across the flar ! ing yellow of their copy paper. anil a ; gasp of dismay wrung from some woman's throat l'admi into a milled sub. Une of the jurors blew his nose loudly, and . % or three exchanged significant g.ances, and Lai^rdon, the sweat beginning to bead h.^" forehead, knew that they had already made up their minds that Mary was guilty. The detective, released, stepped down from the witness box, a ad now the district attorney turned smilingly to the judge and said, with an ora | torical flourish: "Your honor, the state rests ^ The last stone in that brutal gallows ?f evidence bad been cemented into j place. i Four excited and self important office boys scuffled out of the room bearing sheets on which was scrawled: "State rests its case after evidence of Detective Farley." And through the open door as they went came a murmur like the distant roar of wild beasts, the unadmitted public clamor ing for the news borne bj* the boys en route for the newspaper offices. But when the door closed again a tense silence held the room in thrall. Even Mary's sobs had ceased, and, lifting her tear stained face, she smiled rainbow wise at Langdon, as if she would have said: "Now is our chance! I \'nw wp will tear down this awful temple of doom that has been built for me!" Langdon drew a deep breath, flung i back his shoulders as if breasting a tremendous current and said quietly: "Your honor and gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the case against Mary Page. Now listen to the case for Mary Page. "She has declared herself that she has no recollection of those final moments in that hotel room to -which she had been lured by a miserable beast She remembers only a flash?like a dream?of his leering face, and then blackness swept over her. Gentlemen, it is not the first tim? that Miss Page has been affected in that same fashion. And if Mary Page killed James Pollock she did it in a moment of insanity superinduced by the horror of intoxication that has pursued her since th? day she was born." As with one accord, the jury sat up and leaned forward in thek* eats, and onlookers broke out int? a sudden babble, in which the word "insan#" bobbed like a eork on a Ma of Fiimor, and not even the judge's farel could sectii* silence for several moments. In that time the color crept b&ck into Mary's cheeks, and somehow she felt deep in her heart that the tid# of feeling at least was turned agsrfa in her direction. The district attorney was frowning and whispering to his assistant, who nodded from time ts time as he nervously fingered the pils of papers in front of him, but now Langdon was speaking again: ??Ti. TT fntanttftn rniir honor and XV 1*3 LL1J 1AHCuuviAf j gentlemen of the jury, to show you step by step through this girl's life the part which that horror of intoxication has played, a horror that has entangled her in this mesh of tragedy. I shall call as my first witness Mary Page." It came as an overwhelming sur prise, this calling of Mary to her own defense, and. although she strove to be calm, she was obviously startled and afraid, and wave after wave of excitement swept through the room At flip rpnorters' table one "sob sister' whispered to the other: "Poor thing! She can't stand much more. It's wicked to call on her." "Miss Page," said Langdon, and his voice was very gentle, "isn't it true that because of a strong prenatal influ ence you were born with an unnatural horror of intoxication?" "It is true," sighed Mary, but in an instant the district attorney was on his feet "I object!" he cried. "That question concerns something that took place before Miss Page's birth. She can?she must, in fact?know it only by hear say." "I must sustain your objection." said j the judge. "Mr. Langdon. your quesi tion was unfortunately, worded. Can J you alter it?" 44T T /*nr* " T o r? rrr^ An 4 4 T 1 L11 111X iJUli, saiu uau^uvuL. *. us put it this way: What is your earliest recollection of your father?" "I object to that also!" stormed the district attorney. "It is not relevant. What have a child's vague recollections to do with the action of a woman of Miss Page's age?" The judge hesitated, and Langdon. still smiling, said quickly: "I withdraw my question. The witness is excused." "Do you wish to cross examine?" asked the judge, and the district attorney, with a scowl, shook his head. "Are?are you tnrougn wim me: gasped Mary in bewilderment, and Langdon nodded. A.'id now, as the throng waited, he turned to the little gray haired mother, and his voice rang out (was it with triumph?): "Mrs. Page!" In an instant the room was in an uproar. More copy boys rushed for tne door bearing flapping sh**ts covered with scrawled, disjointed words, and the onlookers, who had so far considered Mrs. Page as merely a "prop," a bit of the setting in this gripping tragedy, now scrambled up on to their seats to gape at her. In vain the judge thundered with his gavel, and in vain the police shoved back the spectators and even thrust one or two belligerent ones out into the corridor, where they were welcomed with a roar from the waiting. The noise did not subside until curiosity had been sated. "Mrs. Page, how long ago was it that you met your husband, Daniel Page?" "Thirty-one years ago at Christmas,'' she said softly, and the district attorney leaned forward scowlingly, waiting to leap at the first irrelevant question. i "And you became engaged almost at once. did you not':" The question and the answer were equally-quiet "Yes." "But you were not married for some time?" "No.* The gentle old voice shook now, and a faint hush crept into the thin cheeks. "Why?" The question snapped sharply, but her answer was long in coming. " Rppnuse." she said at last, "I found that Dan drank, anil I?I said I would not marry a man like?like that." "But you did later on?" "Yes," she continued. "He promised me that he would stop, and I believed ?God knows a woman always believes that?from a man." "Please make only direct answers to the questions." broke in the judge sternly. But some woman in the back of the room saicl aloud: "That's the truth she's speaking. Let her say it." 'Silence.'" commanded the judge. And now Langdon said: "Will you tell us as concisely as possible of what happened after your marriage?" For a long time It seemed as if she could not go on, and Mary leaned toward her, whispering softly: "Oh, mother?mother, darling!" But as if the words were a draft of encouragement Mrs. Page took up the thread of her story. "What happened," she said wearily, "is what happens to thousands of women. We hadn't been married very long before my husband began to drink again. The?the first night he came home really drunk was the night I had planned to tell him that Mary was coming to us from God. I don't think I shall ever forget the horror of that time. And all the while that I was making ready for her he was making my inability to go out with him an excuse for debauch. "Oh, your honor," and now she turn ed to the judge, "it's no wonder my child is full of the fear of drink. For night after night I walked the floor, and I prayed like a wicked woman that my baby might die before it came into the world?because I was afraid it would bear the taint?would be born with that awful devastating ^hirst!" More thaa one man in the room and, Indeed. mor? than one of th? jurors moved uneasily at the words, quietly spoken, but pregnant with tragedy. "On the nigbt that Mary was bom,*' she west on, "Dan was too drank t? even be told?tba*?he had a daughter." A iBttrmur of sympathy ?rept through the room, and one voice conld be heard distinctly: "Oh, weH, that's not unusual Most men do?beastly drunk." "I felt then," said Mrs. Page tender, ly, "that it didn't matter. I had my baby, and I was too full of happy dreams for her future to fear for the present "Somehow," Mrs. Page continued, "the years passed, and Mary reached sixteen, but each of those increasing years had increased her fear of drunkenness. She was even afraid of her father, and because we were too poor for her to have pretty clothes she t'xi'x'sxvSi ?^vX:S-5|^| |||j|P jj^V ;>; H *'t sjjHjjjHjj "Dan was too drunk to be told He had a daughter." could not go to the parties and things like other girls. And 1 suppose my own horror kept building and blending with hers?until?that?day." She broke off. and now Langdon was on his feet, a red spot of color in each cheek aud his hands nervously clutch ~ ^ r. V\A OC?L" A/1 | ing ?i scrup ox pupei us .uc ?satu sharply: "What day do you refer to, Mrs. Page?" "To the IGth of June ten years ago." she answered. "Will you tell us why that day is so clearly remembered?" asked Langdon. "Because," she answered deliberately, "that was the night of Mary's first wild attack!" "I object!" shouted the district attorney, but the judge frowned. "This seems to me to be particularly relevant to Mr. Langdon's ?omewhat curious defense," he said. "I will let the question and answer stand." "Will you tell us," said Langdon, "what brought on that attack and what you know of it? Don't tell it to me, but to the jury, who were not there." "I understand," she said softly, and r Jh* JUaHgUOIi bUl uurrii, "/ his own recollections of that terrible night and wondering where the frail little woman was getting the strength for the ordeal. "It was early evening," said Mrs. Page, turning to the jurors. "PhilipMr. Langdon?had come to ask Mary to go to a ball game with him, for they were friends even then," she explain ed tenderly. "And while they were standing on the porch my?my?husband came home?drunk. He saw the two of them and accosted them, usine r I improper and insulting language. Lie didn't mean it?be didn't know what he was saying?but it was terrible fur Mary, nnd she urged Philip to leave at once. I heard them?and beard Dan's words?and I ran out to help, leavingthe poker thrust into the hot coals of the range, for I had been fixing the fire. "We?we got Dan into the house and on to a sofa ia the l*itchen at last, where he lay babbling about Ja^aes Pollock, with whom he had been drink ing and who was also?or who had tried to be?a friend of my daughter's.'' Again the whispering murmur of ex citement swept through the rootn, bu. died of its own accord. "Dan slept for a long time, and wheL, he woke up he wanted more to drink J ^E?*~ ^1 mOim^ CmrdTC;: ::; i? ' ? *4 heard JaniM Pollock r?*k? an insiHtmg taunt." I had sent M*ty to bed, acd I was " - - * - ?~ -7-?- - - --' ~ -*?^ aione wim mm. 1 wieu. u? i cn?un mui him, but he forj^t I was his wife. He Vras insane with that awful thirst. He ordered me to bring him the bottle of whisky out of his cabinet, and when I wouldn't he?he beat me. He. threw me down and kicked me and struck me with a chair. And, though I dfed to keep back a cry that would rouse she?she heard and came running doprn. poor child, in her little nightdress. "She screamed and ran forward and dragged at her father. Trying pitifully to protect me?and at last?he turned?upon her." She shuddered and buried her face in her hands?her eyes tear blin^d and her mouth distorted with thg Anguish of memory. "And then?he saw?thfc poker^-I had forgotten?still thrust into the A*e ?and he dragged it out" A quivering moan like a vocal eAo ; to her mental agony slipped from ! Mary's lips, and dropping her head*' she sobbed aloud. I "Please go on, Mrs. Page," said Lang-, don warningly, and though the mother yearned toward her daughter, she took up her story again In a voice that rose word by word into a poignant cry straight from a mother's anguished soul. "He dragged Mary to the center of the room?that flaming poker in his hand. He forced her to her knees. I. struggled to get to them, but I was weak?dazed, half conscious because of a blow on the head. It was all just a nightmare to me! But I heard Mary scream and scream and scream, and then?I saw?the poker burn into my child's forehead! I smelled the scorched flesh and from somewhere I got the strength to leap upon him?and then? the door was burst open and?Mr^ Langdon came in. "He?he had been worried abou as."" she panted, her voice breaking now,. ' "and, coming back to the house, lie rd the cries. My husband rushed at LLm and thev fousrht. Then suddenly Mary, ' who had been lying in a moaning little j heap on the floor, writhed?got to her | knees?to her feet?and before I could stop her. began to dance wildly about the two men, laughing and shouting and singing. And then, while we stood i there appalled, even L -sobered by it?she ran on?out of tne house?and into the street. "Philip# was after her in a moment But it seemed hours before 1 ~ould crawl to the door, and I saw-i?(;:ry | disappearing down the street ?and heard James Pollock make an insultijM? taunt. Then I was knocked down my husband, who rushed by me witn an oath. "When I got up again Mr. Langdon was out of sight, and Dan and James ti a 11 a1. m mm 1 V\ ?? /~J 1 /\ % n f K A r\ V\ jtujiuck were tying uuuuicu lu iue jmiuji struggling to get to their feet." Her voice dropped now and she fin-! ished quietly, firmly. "Three hours later Philip brought Mary home?wrapped in his coat. Her # nightgown was in ribbons; her feet were torn and bloouy where she had danced and run over stones and stumps in the woods near our home. Eer hands were braced from snatching at trees and rocks bv the way. She was In torture with the burn on her fore' head, but she was?quite sane. And. I your honor, she had no recollection of i anything that had happened after she i saw her father advancing with the red| hot poker." \ [Next Installment Mary's Madness.]