An American Tragedy Theodore Dreiser (whitelam books .TXT) 📖

it. “They were caught in there⁠—presumably⁠—at the time you struck her so lightly that it made all those wounds on her face. Can’t you tell the jury whether those hairs are hers or not?”

“I can’t say,” replied Clyde most weakly.

“What’s that? Speak up. Don’t be so much of a moral and mental coward. Are they or are they not?”

“I can’t say,” repeated Clyde⁠—but not even looking at them.

“Look at them. Look at them. Compare them with these others. We know these are hers. And you know that these in this camera are, don’t you? Don’t be so squeamish. You’ve often touched her hair in real life. She’s dead. They won’t bite you. Are these two hairs⁠—or are they not⁠—the same as these other hairs here⁠—which we know are hers⁠—the same color⁠—same feel⁠—all? Look! Answer! Are they or are they not?”

But Clyde, under such pressure and in spite of Belknap, being compelled to look and then feel them too. Yet cautiously replying, “I wouldn’t be able to say. They look and feel a little alike, but I can’t tell.”

“Oh, can’t you? And even when you know that when you struck her that brutal vicious blow with that camera⁠—these two hairs caught there and held.”

“But I didn’t strike her any vicious blow,” insisted Clyde, now observing Jephson⁠—“and I can’t say.” He was saying to himself that he would not allow himself to be bullied in this way by this man⁠—yet, at the same time, feeling very weak and sick. And Mason, triumphant because of the psychologic effect, if nothing more, returning the camera and lock to the table and remarking, “Well, it’s been amply testified to that those two hairs were in that camera when found in the water. And you yourself swear that it was last in your hands before it reached the water.”

He turned to think of something else⁠—some new point with which to rack Clyde and now began once more:

“Griffiths, in regard to that trip south through the woods, what time was it when you got to Three Mile Bay?”

“About four in the morning, I think⁠—just before dawn.”

“And what did you do between then and the time that boat down there left?”

“Oh, I walked around.”

“In Three Mile Bay?”

“No, sir⁠—just outside of it.”

“In the woods, I suppose, waiting for the town to wake up so you wouldn’t look so much out of place. Was that it?”

“Well, I waited until after the sun came up. Besides I was tired and I sat down and rested for a while.”

“Did you sleep well and did you have pleasant dreams?”

“I was tired and I slept a little⁠—yes.”

“And how was it you knew so much about the boat and the time and all about Three Mile Bay? Hadn’t you familiarized yourself with this data beforehand?”

“Well, everybody knows about the boat from Sharon to Three Mile Bay around there.”

“Oh, do they? Any other reason?”

“Well, in looking for a place to get married, both of us saw it,” returned Clyde, shrewdly, “but we didn’t see that any train went to it. Only to Sharon.”

“But you did notice that it was south of Big Bittern?”

“Why, yes⁠—I guess I did,” replied Clyde.

“And that that road west of Gun Lodge led south toward it around the lower edge of Big Bittern?”

“Well, I noticed after I got up there that there was a road of some kind or a trail anyhow⁠—but I didn’t think of it as a regular road.”

“I see. How was it then that when you met those three men in the woods you were able to ask them how far it was to Three Mile Bay?”

“I didn’t ask ’em that,” replied Clyde, as he had been instructed by Jephson to say. “I asked ’em if they knew any road to Three Mile Bay, and how far it was. I didn’t know whether that was the road or not.”

“Well, that wasn’t how they testified here.”

“Well, I don’t care what they testified to, that’s what I asked ’em just the same.”

“It seems to me that according to you all the witnesses are liars and you are the only truthful one in the bunch⁠ ⁠… Isn’t that it? But, when you reached Three Mile Bay, did you stop to eat? You must have been hungry, weren’t you?”

“No, I wasn’t hungry,” replied Clyde, simply.

“You wanted to get away from that place as quickly as possible, wasn’t that it? You were afraid that those three men might go up to Big Bittern and having heard about Miss Alden, tell about having seen you⁠—wasn’t that it?”

“No, that wasn’t it. But I didn’t want to stay around there. I’ve said why.”

“I see. But after you got down to Sharon where you felt a little more safe⁠—a little further away, you didn’t lose any time in eating, did you? It tasted pretty good all right down there, didn’t it?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I had a cup of coffee and a sandwich.”

“And a piece of pie, too, as we’ve already proved here,” added Mason. “And after that you joined the crowd coming up from the depot as though you had just come up from Albany, as you afterwards told everybody. Wasn’t that it?”

“Yes, that was it.”

“Well, now for a really innocent man who only so recently experienced a kindly change of heart, don’t you think you were taking an awful lot of precaution? Hiding away like that and waiting in the dark and pretending that you had just come up from Albany.”

“I’ve explained all that,” persisted Clyde.

Mason’s next tack was to hold Clyde up to shame for having been willing, in the face of all she had done for him, to register Roberta in three different hotel registers as the unhallowed consort of presumably three different men in three different days.

“Why didn’t you take separate rooms?”

“Well, she didn’t want it that way. She wanted to be with me. Besides I didn’t have any too much money.”

“Even so, how could you have so little respect for her there, and then be so deeply concerned about her reputation