The Washington times., 1911-08-30
BEATTIE SHOWING
AMAZING NERVE
"How Long Will 1t Last?" Is the Question That Every
body Is Asking Friends Desert Him. But
He Never Flinches
By JULIA MURDOCH.
Wire From ChesterneId

CHESTERFIELD COURT HOUSE.
Clay Beattie hold out?" Is the question
that everybody Is asking today, and
nobody can guess the answer.
Startling. damaging facts pile up on
each other. failing like thunderbolts
upon attorneys and jurors. Spectators
gasp when link after link Of the chain
Of evidence is forged. Sensations come
so fast that people in the little Ches-
terfield court room scorcely recover
from the effects Of one before another
thrill comes to sake its place. but
through all the horrifying, nauDeating,
appalling allegations. nobody smiles ex-
cept Henry Clay Beattie. jr. It Is only
once in a whils that the prisoner loses
Els assurance. Seldom does his iron
nerve fail him.
The girl whom he thought he loved,
has gone back on him and will prob
ABLY tell all she knows before the trial
Is over.
Cousin Deserts Him.
Tho boy cousin whom he trusted, has
gone -ba.k on him: has testified against
mis- ''own blood and kim" as Paul Beat
tie 50 aptly expressed 1t on the wit
ness stand
The mother Of his dead wife has
added her damaging testimony, thus
forging another link in the chain. The
man who acted as best man for him at
his wedding-that occasion that should
have been the happiest event Of Beat
ties life, has testified against him.
Friends, neighbors. blood relatives-all
have repudiated him-yet this young
man meets all Of these situations with
unfinching nerve, and II he ever loses
his reserve 1t is only momentary let
ting go Of himself. He resumes his
equanimity rapidly-almost before those
who watch him have realized that this
happened.
Henry Clay Beattie, jr., Is a hard
problem to solve. It Is doubtful II any
one understands him. Almost any man
who had looked on while the casket
loved bride was lowered into the
ground, the victim Of an assassin's s
crime, would have lost his nerve. But
people say Henry Beattie has never
shed tear since the time he brought
her mangled. lifeless corpse back to her
home at the close Of that night ride on
the Midlothian pike.
II man were imbued with life or
reason. it seems as though he would
crynge, or at least lose color when
the blood stained weapon was produced
that tell-tale instrument of death
that was used with such awful effect
the night that the beautiful young wife,
Louise owen Beattie, gave up her life.
Less Concerned Than Others.
But this young, rather handsome,
well groomed, slight, graceful man. sat
at the bar Of Justice, while this grue-
some weapon was produced and the
bloodstains were pointed out, ten times
less concerned than attorneys, jurors
or spectators.
That tremendous coup de theater.
that wraith-like appearance upon the
scent Of the mother of the girl
who was killed did not give Henry
Clay Beattie more than three or four
uncomfortable minutes. When she ap-
pale face, like an avenging nemesis,
there wasn't a normal heart In the
court room.
In the little court room there were
not many men who could, IL they had
loved their wives, as Henry Beattie
says he loved his-have stood the ordeal
of seeing the blood stained automobile
which served for the chariot of death.
But not Henry c. Beattie, jr.
He carelessly flicked the tobacco from
an unlighted cigarette, with a regular
John Drew gesture, as ne examined the
car, and the only concern he showed
was when he complained that his car
had not been properly cared for.
A tall, austere man, with heavy white
hair and a sad countenance sits at