Yollop
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George Barr McCutcheon >> Yollop
"I thought I would come down and talk the matter over with you,
Cash. I'm in quite a dilemma. She says if I don't help you out of
this scrape she and all your children will haunt me to my dying day.
It sounds rather terrible, doesn't it?"
"I can't think of anything worse," acknowledged Cassius, solemnly.
"She asked me what I thought your sentence would be, and I told her
I doubted very much whether you'd get more than a year or so, in
view of all the extenuating circumstances,--that is to say, your
self-restraint and all that when you had not only the jewels but the
revolver as well. That seemed to cheer her up a bit."
"You made a ten strike that time, Bill," said Smilk, his face
brightening. "I didn't give you credit for bein' so clever. If she
thinks I'll be out in a year or two, maybe she'll be satisfied to
keep her nose out of my affairs. If you had told her I was dead sure
to go up for twenty years or so, she'd come and camp over there in
the Criminal Courts Building and just raise particular hell with
everything."
Mr. Yollop turned his face away. "I'm sorry to bring bad news to
you, Cash, but she's made up her mind to attend your trial next
Monday. She's going to bring the children and--"
He was interrupted by the string of horrific oaths that issued,
pianissimo, through the twisted lips of the prisoner. After a time,
Cassius interrupted himself to murmur weakly:
"If she does that, I'm lost. We got to head her off somehow,
Mr.--er--Bill."
"I don't see how it can be managed. She has a perfect right to
attend the pro--"
"Wait a minute, Bill," broke in the other eagerly. "I got an idea.
If you give her that roll of mine, maybe she'll stay away."
"What roll are you talking about?"
"My roll of bills,--you remember, don't you?"
"My good man, I haven't got your roll of bills. And besides I
couldn't put myself in the position of--of--er--what is it you call
it?--tinkering with witnesses to defeat the ends of justice."
"But she ain't a witness, Bill. You couldn't possibly get in wrong.
What's more, it's my money, and I got a right to give it to my wife,
ain't I? Ain't I got a right to give money to my own wife,--or to
one of my wives, strictly speakin',--and to my own children? Ain't
I?"
"That isn't the point. I refuse to be a party to any such game. We
need not discuss it any farther. As I said before, I haven't your
roll of bills, and if I had it I--"
"Oh, yes, you have. You got it right up there in your apartment. I
stuck it away behind a--"
"Stop! Not another word, Cassius. I don't want to know where it is.
If you persist in telling me, I'll--I'll ask the judge to let you
off with the lightest sentence he can--"
"Oh, Lord, you WOULDN'T do that, would you?"
"Yes, I would. What do you mean by secreting stolen property in my
apartments?"
"I didn't steal it. I found it, I tell you."
"Bosh!"
"Hope I may die if I didn't."
"Well, it may stay there till it rots, so far as I am concerned."
"No danger of that," said Smilk composedly. "A friend of mine is
comin' around some night soon to get it. What else did she say?"
"Eh?"
"What else did my wife say?"
"Oh! Well, among other things, she wondered if it would be possible
to get an injunction against the court to prevent him from depriving
her of her only means of support. She says everybody is getting
injunctions these days and--"
"Bosh!" said Smilk, but not with conviction. An anxious, inquiring
gleam lurked in his eyes.
Mr. Yollop continued:
"I told her it was ridiculous,--and it is. Then she said she was
going to see your lawyer and ask him to put her on the witness stand
to testify that you are a good, loyal, hard-working husband and that
your children ought to have a father's hand over them, and a lot
more like that."
"She tried that once before and the court wouldn't let her testify,"
said Smilk. "But anyhow, I'll tell my lawyer to kick her out of the
office if she comes around there offering to commit perjury."
"I rather fancy she has considered that angle, Cassius. She says if
she isn't allowed to testify, she's going to attempt suicide right
there in the court-room."
"By gum, she's a mean woman," groaned Smilk.
"I'm obliged to agree with you," said Mr. Yollop, compressing his
lips as a far-away look came into his eyes. "If I live to be a
thousand years old, I'll never forget the way she talked to me when
I finally succeeded in telling her I was busy and she would have to
excuse me. It was something appalling."
"Course. I suppose I got myself to blame," lamented Cassius
ruefully. "I don't know how many times I come near to doin' it and
didn't because I was so darned chicken-hearted."
"I have decided, Cash, that you ought to go up for life,--or for
thirty years, at least. So when I go on the stand I intend to do
everything in my power to secure the maximum for you. At first, I
was reluctant to aid you in your efforts to lead a life of ease and
enjoyment but recent events have convinced me that you are entitled
to all that the law can give you."
"It won't do much good if she's to set there in the Courtroom,
snivelling and lookin' heart-broke, with a pack of half-starved kids
hangin' on to her. Like as not, she won't give 'em anything to eat
for two or three days so's they'll look the part. I remember two of
them kids fairly well. The Lord knows I used to take all kinds of
risks to provide clothes and all sorts of luxuries for them,--and
for her too. I used to give 'em bicycles and skates and gold
watches,--yes, sir, we had Christmas regularly once a month. And she
never was without fur neck-pieces and muffs and silk stockings and
everything. The trouble with that woman is, she can't stand poverty.
She just keeps on hopin' for the day to come when she can wear all
sorts of finery and jewels again, even if I do have to go to the
penitentiary for it. All this comes of bein' too good a provider,
Bill. You spoil 'em."
Mr. Yollop was thinking, so Cassius, after waiting a moment,
scratched his head and ventured:
"That guy's beginnin' to fidget, Bill. I guess your time's about up.
What are you thinkin' about?"
"I was thinking about your other wives. How many did you say you
have?"
"Three, all told. The other two don't bother me much."
"Haven't you ever been divorced from any of them?"
"Not especially. Why?"
"Where do the other two live, and what are their names?"
"Elsie Morton and Jennie Finch. I mean, those are their married
names. I use a different alias every time I get married, you see.
Course, my first wife,--the one you met,--her name is Smilk. I
married her when I was young and not very smart. Elsie lives in
Brooklyn and Jennie keeps a delicatessen up on the West Side."
"Do they know where you are?"
"I don't think so. I forgot to tell 'em I was out on parole last
year."
"And they have never been divorced from you?"
"No. They couldn't prove anything on me as long as I was locked up
in the penitentiary."
"Does either one of them know about the other two?"
"I should say not! What do you think I am?"
"Don't lose your temper, Cassius. I am trying to think of some way
to help you,--and I believe I see a ray of hope. You were regularly
married to Elsie and Jennie,--I mean, by a minister, and so on?"
"Sure. They both got their marriage certificates. I always believe
in doin' things in the proper legal way. It's only fair and right.
They--"
"Never mind. Give me their addresses."
CHAPTER FIVE
There were quite a number of people in the court room when the case
of the State vs. Smilk was called. It was a bitterly cold day
outside and considerable of an overflow from the corridors had
seeped into the various court rooms. But little delay was
experienced in obtaining a jury. The regular panel was stuck, with a
few exceptions. Only one member was able to declare that he had
formed an opinion, and he did not form it until after he had had a
good look at the prisoner,--although he did not say so. Two were
challenged by counsel and one got off because he admitted that he
was acquainted with a man who used to be connected with the District
Attorney's office,--he couldn't think of his name.
Smilk's attorney succeeded in executing a very clever piece of
strategy at the outset. No sooner had the jury been sworn than he
ordered the bailiffs to crowd three or four more chairs alongside
his table, and then blandly invited a considerable portion of the
audience to take their seats inside the railing. The persons
indicated included a tall, shabbily dressed woman and seven ragged,
pinched children, ranging in years from twelve down to three.
Immediately the prosecution fell into the trap. Two agitated
Assistant District Attorneys jumped to their feet and barked out an
objection to the presence of the accused's wife and family on the
inside of the fence, and the court promptly sustained them. He also
said some very sharp and caustic things to Smilk's lawyer. Mrs.
Smilk and her bewildered seven patiently resumed their seats in the
front row of spectators, but not until after a four year old girl,
surreptitiously pinched, had caused a mild sensation by piping: "I
want my daddy! I want my daddy!"
Smilk cringed and it was quite apparent to close observers that he
was having great difficulty in suppressing his emotions.
The first witness for the prosecution was Crittenden Yollop,
milliner, aged 44. A more thorough examination by the State would
have disclosed the fact that he was six feet tall, spare, slightly
bald, beardless, well-manicured, and faultlessly attired.
"State your name and occupation, please," said the State's attorney,
advancing a few paces toward the witness stand.
"My name is Crittenden Yollop. I am in the millinery business."
The State: "Where do you reside?"
Yollop: "418 Sagamore Terrace."
The State: "In an apartment?"
Yollop: "A little louder, if you please."
The State, raising its voice: "Repeat the question, Mr.
Stenographer."
Stenographer, leaning forward a little: "'In an apartment?'"
Yollop: "Yes."
The State: "Were you living in this apartment on the 18th of
December, 1919?"
Yollop: "I was."
The State: "Was that apartment entered by a burglar on the date
mentioned?"
Yollop: "It was."
The State, casually: "Will you be so good as to glance around the
court room and state whether you see and recognize the man who
entered and robbed your apartment?"
Yollop, pointing: "Yes. That is the man."
The State: "You are sure about that?"
Yollop: "I beg pardon?"
The State, patiently: "Repeat the question, Mr. Stenographer."
Stenographer, patiently: "'You are sure about that?'"
Yollop: "Certainly."
The State: "Now, Mr. Yollop, I'm going to ask you to tell the jury,
in your own words, exactly what occurred in your apartment on the
morning of December 18th. Speak slowly and distinctly, and face the
jury."
Mr. Yollop, assisted to some extent by the gentleman conducting the
examination, related the story of the crime, dwelling with special
earnestness upon the dastardly, brutal manner in which Smilk forced
him, at the point of a revolver to bind and gag and otherwise
maltreat the woman who had befriended him and whose jewels he was
preparing to make off with when the police arrived. He carefully
avoided any allusion to certain portions of the lengthy and
illuminating dialogue that had taken place between him and Smilk; he
said nothing of the unexampled behavior of the intruder in
telephoning for the police, or the kindness revealed by him in
suggesting a means for getting his captor's feet warm.
Smilk's lawyer, at the very outset of the cross-examination,
clarified the air as to the nature of the defense he was going to
put up for his client. After a few preliminary questions, he
demanded sharply:
"Now, Mr. Yollop, didn't this defendant state to you that he had
been unable to get work and that his wife and family were in such
desperate straits that he was forced to commit a crime against the
State in order to preserve them from actual starvation?"
Yollop: "He did not."
Counsel: "You are quite positive about that, are you?"
Yollop: "Yes."
Counsel: "Did he, at the time appear to be a robust,
well-conditioned man,--that is to say, a man who looked strong
enough to work and who had had sufficient nourishment to keep his
body and soul together?"
Yollop: "He certainly did."
Counsel: "A big, rugged, healthy, desperate fellow, you would say?"
Yollop: "Yes."
Counsel: "Armed with a loaded revolver?"
Yollop: "Yes."
Counsel: "You would say that he was big enough and strong enough to
pull a trigger, wouldn't you?"
Yollop: "I can't answer that question. I don't know how much
strength it requires to pull a trigger."
Counsel: "Ahem! At any rate, he looked as though he was strong
enough to pull a trigger?"
Yollop: "I dare say he could have pulled it."
Counsel: "And yet you would have the jury believe that this big,
strong, well-nourished man, permitted you--By the by, how much do
you weigh, Mr. Yollop!"
Yollop: "About 145 pounds, in my clothes."
Counsel: "You are six feet tall, I should say?"
Yollop: "Lacking a quarter of an inch."
Counsel: "Ahem! As I was saying, this strong, desperate man, armed
with a revolver, allowed you to walk across the room and strike him
in the face, causing him to crumple up and fall to the floor as if
struck by a--well, someone like Jack Dempsey. Isn't that so?"
Yollop: "I never was so surprised in my life."
Counsel, thunderously: "Answer my question!"
Yollop: "Well, I hit him and he fell."
Counsel: "Do you regard yourself as an experienced boxer?"
Yollop: "No, I don't."
Counsel: "Are you what may be termed a powerful man, able to strike
a powerful blow with the fist?"
Yollop: "I don't know. The defendant can answer that question better
than I can."
Counsel, to the court: "Your honor, I appeal to you to direct this
witness to answer my questions--"
The Court: "Confine your answers to the questions as they are put to
you, Mr. Witness."
Counsel to Yollop: "Now see if you can answer this question, Mr.
Yollop. You have described in direct examination that this defendant
was a big, burly, rough looking man. You say you were surprised when
he went down under your inexpert blow. Why were you surprised?"
Yollop: "I was surprised to find how easy it is to knock a man
down."
Counsel. "I see. You had never knocked a man down before. Is that
so?"
Yollop: "I had never even struck a man before."
Counsel: "And yet you found it singularly easy to deliver a blow on
the jaw of an armed man with sufficient force to knock him down?"
Yollop: "I can only answer that question by saying that he went down
when I struck him. I don't know how hard or how easy it is to knock
a man down."
Counsel: "But you admit you were surprised?"
Yollop: "Yes. I was surprised."
Counsel, shaking his finger and speaking with something like
malevolence in his voice and manner: "Don't you know, Mr. Yollop,
that this man was so exhausted from lack of food that he was not
only unable to defend himself from your assault but that the weakest
blow--or even a gentle push with the open hand,--would have sent him
sprawling?"
Yollop: "I don't know anything about that."
Counsel: "Wasn't he so weak that he could hardly walk across the
room after he arose?"
Yollop: "Possibly. He was not too weak, however, to climb up two
floors on a fire escape and pry open my window before I,--"
Counsel: "Now,--now,--now! Please answer my question?"
Yollop: "He complained of being dizzy. He held his hand to his jaw.
That's all I can say."
Counsel: "You were pointing the revolver at him all the time, you
have testified. Is that true?"
Yollop: "Yes."
Counsel: "If he had made an attempt to attack you, you would have
shot him, wouldn't you?"
Yollop: "I would have shot AT him, I suppose."
Counsel, slowly, distinctly, dramatically: "In other words, you
would have been strong enough to do the thing that he was unable to
do,--pull a trigger."
Yollop: "I haven't said he was unable to pull a trigger."
Counsel: "Answer my question!"
The State, bouncing up: "We object to this question. It calls for a
conclusion on the part of the witness that--"
The Court: "Objection sustained."
Counsel, glaring: "Exception." Then, after mopping his brow and
consulting his notes: "Now, Mr. Yollop, you say you conversed with
this defendant at some length while waiting for the police to
arrive. Have you any recollection of this defendant telling you that
he was driven to theft because he had been out of work for nearly
three months?"
Yollop: "No."
Counsel: "Didn't he say something of the kind to you?"
Yollop: "He didn't say he had been out of WORK for three months."
Counsel, patiently: "Well, what did he say?"
Yollop: "He said he had been out of jail for three months."
Counsel, suddenly referring to his notes again: "Er--ahem!--By the
way, Mr. Yollop, you don't hear very well, do you?"
Yollop: "I am quite deaf."
Counsel: "He might have said a great many things that you failed to
hear,--especially if his voice was weak?"
Yollop: "I dare say he did."
Counsel, lifting his eyebrows significantly and nodding his head:
"Ah-h-h! Didn't he tell you that he had a wife and several
children?"
Yollop: "I don't recall that he said anything about several
children. He said he had several wives."
Counsel, startled: "What's that?"
A bailiff, harshly addressing a woman in the front row of
spectators: "Order! Order!"
The Woman in the front row: "The dirty liar!"
The State, sticking its hands in its pockets and strutting to and
fro, smiling loftily: "Repeat the answer for the gentleman, Mr.
Reporter."
Counsel: "Never mind,--never mind. I move that the answer be
stricken out, your honor, and that you instruct the jury to
disregard the supposedly facetious reply of the witness."
The Court, to Mr. Yollop: "Did this defendant say to you that he had
several wives?"
Yollop, looking blandly at the jury until convinced by twelve
expressions and the direction in which twenty four eyes were gazing
that the court had spoken: "I beg pardon, your honor. Were you
speaking to me?"
The Court, raising his voice: "Did he tell you that he had several
wives?"
Yollop: "He did."
The Court: "Motion overruled. Proceed."
Counsel: "Exception. Now, Mr.--"
Child in the front row, still gazing intently at a very baldheaded
man on the opposite side of the aisle: "I want my daddy! I want--"
The Court: "You must remove that child from the court room, madam.
Officer, see that that child is removed. Remove all of them. You may
remain here, madam, if you choose to do so, but the court cannot
allow this trial to be--"
The Woman in the front row: "Please, your honor, if you will let me
keep them here I'll promise to--"
The Court: "Officer, remove those children at once."
The Woman: "And what's more, he tells a dirty lie when he says--"
The Court: "Silence! You will have to leave the room also, madam.
This is outrageous. Officer!"
The State, magnanimously: "May it please the court, the State has
not the slightest objection to the lady and her children remaining
in the court room, provided they do not interrupt these proceedings
again."
The Court, melting a little: "Do you think you can keep those
children quiet, madam, and refrain from audible comments yourself?"
The Woman: "Yes, sir. I'm sure I can."
The Court: "It is not my desire to be harsh with you, madam, but if
this occurs again I shall have you ejected from the room. Proceed."
Counsel: "Now, Mr. Yollop, you have testified that you bound and
gagged your sister at the direction and command of this defendant
and that he rifled the apartment at will, keeping you covered with a
revolver. You also have stated that you laid the pistol on the desk,
within his reach, when you believed the police to be at the door.
Why, did you do that?"
Yollop: "Because I did not think that I needed it any longer."
Counsel, sarcastically: "Oho! so that was the reason, eh?"
Yollop: "Well, I was glad to be rid of it. I was dreading all the
time that it might go off accidentally. They frequently do."
Counsel: "I see. Now, isn't it a fact, Mr. Yollop, that you laid the
revolver down to go to the assistance of this defendant who was in a
fainting condition?"
Yollop: "No, it isn't. He was all right."
Counsel: "Don't you know that you laid it down because you were
convinced in you own mind that he was physically unable to take
advantage of it? That he was in no condition to use it?"
Yollop: "No."
Counsel, with a pitying look at the jury: "He was still the big,
strong, able-bodied man that you had knocked down with your brawny
fist, eh?"
Yollop, mildly: "He may have been a little sleepy. I was."
A Bailiff: "Order! ORDER!"
Counsel, severely: "Now, Mr. Yollop, will you tell this jury why,
after you had found it so simple to knock the defendant down and
disarm him earlier in the evening, you failed to repeat the
experiment when he had you covered the second time?"
Yollop: "The first time I acted on the spur of the moment, and under
stress of great excitement. I had had time to collect my wits by the
time he gained possession of the revolver. I wasn't as foolhardy as
I was at the beginning. I was afraid he would shoot me if I tackled
him again."
Counsel: "Isn't it a fact that he appeared much stronger and not so
weak and listless as when you first encountered him?"
Yollop: "I didn't notice any change in him."
Counsel: "Didn't you testify awhile ago that while he was sitting at
your desk, under cover of the gun, he ate a whole box of chocolate
creams,--at your generous invitation?"
Yollop: "Yes. He ate them, all right."
Counsel: "Wouldn't you, as an intelligent man, assume that a pound
of chocolates might have the effect of restoring to a half-starved
man a portion of his waning strength,--at least a sufficient amount
to encourage him to put up some kind of a fight against you?"
The State: "We object. The question calls for a conclusion on the
part of the witness, who does not even pretend to be an expert or an
authority on pathological--"
Counsel: "But he DOES pretend to be an intelligent man, doesn't he?
I submit, your honor, that the question is proper and I--"
The Court: "Objection sustained. The witness may state that the
defendant ate a box of chocolate creams. He cannot give an opinion
as to the effect the chocolates may or may not have had on him."
Counsel: "Exception."
Mr. Yollop was on the stand for half an hour longer. Counsel for the
defense was driving home to the jury the impression that Smilk was a
poor, half-starved wretch who had gone back to thieving after a
valiant but hopeless attempt to find work in order to support his
wife and children. He announced, in arguing an objection made by the
State, that it was his intention to prove by the man's wife that
Smilk was a good husband and was willing to work his fingers off for
his family, but that he had been ill and unable to find steady
employment.
Mrs. Champney testified at the afternoon session. She made a most
unfavorable impression on the jury. She got very angry at Smilk's
counsel and said such spiteful things to him and about his client
that the jury began to feel sorry for both of them.
Two detectives and three policemen in uniform testified that Smilk
was the picture of health and a desperate-looking character. Now
anybody who has ever served on a jury in a criminal case knows the
effect that the testimony of a police officer has on three fourths--
and frequently four fourths,--of the jurors. For some
unexplained,--though perhaps obvious reason,--the ordinary juror not
only hates a policeman but refuses to believe him on oath unless he
is supported by evidence of the most unassailable nature. The mere
fact that the five officers swore that Smilk was healthy and rugged
no doubt went a long way toward convincing the jury that the poor
fellow was a physical wreck and absolutely unable to defend himself
on the night of the alleged burglary.
Moreover, a skilled mind-reader would have discovered that Mr.
Yollop had not made a good impression on the jury. Almost to a man,
they discredited him because he was fastidious in appearance;
because he was known to be a successful and prosperous business man;
because he was trying to make them believe that he possessed the
unheard-of courage to tackle an armed burglar; and because he was a
milliner. As for Mrs. Champney, she was the embodiment of all that
the average citizen resents: a combination of wealth, refinement,
intelligence, arrogance and widowhood. Especially does he resent
opulent widowhood.
The State rested. Mrs. Smilk was the first witness called by the
defense. She told a harrowing tale of Smilk's unparalleled efforts
to obtain work; of his heart-breaking disappointments; of her own
loyal and cheerful struggle to provide for the children,--and for
her poor sick husband,--by slaving herself almost to death at all
sorts of jobs. Futhermore, she was positive that poor Cassius had
reformed, that he was determined to lead an honest, upright life;
all he needed was encouragement and the opportunity to show his
worth. True, he had been in State's Prison twice, but in both
instances it was the result of strong drink. Now that prohibition
had come and he could no longer be subjected to the evils and
temptations of that accursed thing generically known as rum, he was
sure to be a model citizen and husband. In fact, she declared, a
friend of the family,--a man very high up in city politics,--had
promised to secure for Cassius an appointment as an enforcement
officer in the great war that was being waged against prohibition.
This seemed to make such a hit with the jury that Smilk's lawyer
shrewdly decided not to press her to alter the preposition.