“Many actresses conceal defects. She could
have worn flesh-colored plaster and covered it with
powder. Also, such a scar would not necessarily
be seen.”
“Explain that.”
“Most of Jennie Brice’s decollete gowns
were cut to a point. This would conceal such
a scar.”
Miss Hope was excused, and Jennie Brice’s sister
from Olean was called. She was a smaller woman
than Jennie Brice had been, very lady-like in her
manner. She said she was married and living in
Olean; she had not seen her sister for several years,
but had heard from her often. The witness had
discouraged the marriage to the prisoner.
“Why?”
“She had had bad luck before.”
“She had been married before?”
“Yes, to a man named John Bellows. They
were in vaudeville together, on the Keith Circuit.
They were known as The Pair of Bellows.”
I sat up at this for John Bellows had boarded at my
house.
“Mr. Bellows is dead?”
“I think not. She divorced him.”
“Did you know of any scar on your sister’s
body?”
“I never heard of one.”
“Have you seen the body found at Sewickley?”
“Yes”—faintly.
“Can you identify it?”
“No, sir.”
A flurry was caused during the afternoon by Timothy
Senft. He testified to what I already knew—that
between three and four on Monday morning, during the
height of the flood, he had seen from his shanty-boat
a small skiff caught in the current near the Ninth
Street bridge. He had shouted encouragingly to
the man in the boat, running out a way on the ice
to make him hear. He had told him to row with
the current, and to try to steer in toward shore.
He had followed close to the river bank in his own
boat. Below Sixth Street the other boat was within
rope-throwing distance. He had pulled it in, and
had towed it well back out of the current. The
man in the boat was the prisoner. Asked if the
prisoner gave any explanation—yes, he said
he couldn’t sleep, and had thought to tire himself
rowing. Had been caught in the current before
he knew it. Saw nothing suspicious in or about
the boat. As they passed the police patrol boat,
prisoner had called to ask if there was much distress,
and expressed regret when told there was.
Tim was excused. He had made a profound impression.
I would not have given a dollar for Mr. Ladley’s
chance with the jury, at that time.
The prosecution produced many witnesses during the
next two days: Shanty-boat Tim’s story
withstood the most vigorous cross-examination.
After him, Mr. Bronson from the theater corroborated
Miss Hope’s story of Jennie Brice’s attack
of hysteria in the dressing-room, and told of taking
her home that night.
He was a poor witness, nervous and halting. He
weighed each word before he said it, and he made a
general unfavorable impression. I thought he
was holding something back. In view of what Mr.
Pitman would have called the denouement, his attitude
is easily explained. But I was puzzled then.
