The After House

A dozen miles from Philadelphia the little machine had turned over

on a curve, knocking all the law and most of the enthusiasm out of

Walters, the legal gentleman, and smashing the brandy-bottle.

McWhirter had picked himself up, kicked viciously at the car, and,

gathering up his impedimenta, had made the rest of the journey by

foot and street-car.

His wrath at finding me a prisoner was unbounded; his scorn at

Walters, the attorney, for not confounding the police with law

enough to free me, was furious and contemptuous. He picked up the

oars in sullen silence, and, leaning on them, called a loud and

defiant farewell for the benefit of the officer.

"All right," he said. "An hour or so won't make much difference.

But you'll be free today, all right, all right. And don't let

them bluff you, boy. If the police get funny, tackle them and

throw 'em overboard, one by one. You can do it."

He made an insulting gesture at the police, picked up his oars, and

rowed away into the mist.

But I was not free, that day, nor for many days. As I had expected,

Turner, his family, Mrs. Johns, and the stewardess were released,

after examination. The rest of us were taken to jail. Singleton as

a suspect, the others to make sure of their presence at the trial.

The murders took place on the morning of August 12. The Grand jury

met late in September, and found an indictment against Singleton.

The trial began on the 16th of November.

The confinement was terrible. Accustomed to regular exercise as I

was, I suffered mentally and physically. I heard nothing from Elsa

Lee, and I missed McWhirter, who had got his hospital appointment,

and who wrote me cheering letters on pages torn from order-books or

on prescription-blanks. He was in Boston.

He got leave of absence for the trial, and, as I explained, the

following notes are his, not mine. The case was tried in the United

States Court, before Circuit Judge Willard and District Judge

McDowell. The United States was represented by a district attorney

and two assistant attorneys. Singleton had retained a lawyer

named Goldstein, a clever young Jew.

I was called first, as having found the bodies.

"Your name?"

"Ralph Leslie."

"Your age?"

"Twenty-four."

"When and where were you born?"

"November 18, 1887, in Columbus, Ohio."

"When did you ship on the yacht Ella?"

"On July 27."

"When did she sail?"

"July 28."

"Are you a sailor by occupation?"

"No; I am a graduate of a medical college."

"What were your duties on the ship?"

"They were not well defined. I had been ill and was not strong.

I was a sort of deck steward, I suppose. I also served a few meals

in the cabin of the after house, when the butler was incapacitated."