The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-12-17

For a full minute they were speech less. Then he turned from her, rush ed to the table drew from the bag the revolver which Doris had dropped therein, at his bidding, but short time before, and ran from the room. In a moment the banging. of door told that he had left the home that haG been so happy.
 May Strickland half sat, half lay on the sofa, with her head resting on her arms and her body shaken by sobs. The nerve wrecking scene had exhaust ed her mentally and physically, and for a few minutes she could not rise. Her sobbing was not loud, but was dis tinct, and it shook her body from head to foot At last the dreaded -signid- canoe of her husbands actions reveal ed itself to her, and she rose with a scream:
 sHe's gone. He's gone! If he finds him he'll kill himi His whole life will be rufnedg'
 The words spoke eloquently of her devotion to her husband, No thought now of her own ruined life-only that of her husband lying in ashes!
 She rushed to the telephone and seized the receiver, at the same time calling excitedly into the transmitter:
 "Hello, heI1oi Give me 1s2 River
 Again a telephone call rang in the home of Gerald Trask that night.
 Before tcentraP' could reply to May Strickland's frantic request for '1S2 the room from the adjoining bedroom. The child cried:
 aOh, mamma, Pm afraid, I'm afraid P
 FEvE.- AL. | I. E.- .-Oh, my darling! My babyi My little girl! Hello, heIloT'
 Doris Strickland had told the story of the tragic last night in her home. All the courtroon-judge, Jurymen, at torneys, attendants, spectators had lis tened speIlbound to the child. She was bright youngster and had required but little leading by David ArbuckIe Several times District Attorney Gray, jealous of the interests of his client, the sovereign people, had objected to questions put to the child by Arbuckle on the ground that they were leading questions and therefore calculated to bring out the answers which the at torney wanted But Judge Dinsmore had ruled that the age of the child was  the attorney for the defense
 Even the judge himself, learned, grave, stern and impartial, had been favorab1y impressed by the chtld's manner on the stand and had smiled at her, thereby encouraging, her to go on with her story even when she was tired
 Now, however, the limit of the chiId's
  and she sobbed in childish yearning for a mothers comforting presence. Alas. that mother had not been found in spite of diligent search by prosecution and defense. Was she alive or dead No one knew. Had she sought relief in voluntary death, and had her body weary women in New York-the way of the cold green tides leading down the river. through the bay and into the linitless oceana
 It was for her mamma that little Doris cried:
 Mamma! Mamma! I'm afraid: I'm afraidr'
 AEbucEle soothed the little one Don't cry. Doris. I won't be much longer. Whom did your mother call up ?'' ! A<ASzA- 10dl He WASH | tAS1G.
 How do you know he wasn't there p
 Because mamma said,. T will call again ;
 Then what did she do?'' 4She cried and walked up and down the room and said lots of terrible things"
 What did she sayq"
 @swhy didn't I tell him? Why didn't I tell himT"
 'tWhat then ?' asked the lawyer
 '.Then cried, too, because T was afraid. wanted to talk to her, but she Wouldn't. I was awful1y afraid g Here the schild's voice broke. sT'm afraid now,'' she said plaintively, and she began to sob
 ArbucEle was gentleness itself as he said:
 Don't cry. Doris. It will only be a few minutes longer; then we'll be through with you.'
 f But Doris still wept, and Arbuckle went on:
 "Try not to cry. Just a little while longer. That's g good girl. Are you listening to me?'
 The child choked back sob and an swered, "Yes, sir.''
 seDid your mother call up agatn?''
 Yes, sir, and she said, Is that you, Gerald TfaskF Oh, I don't want to talk any more My head hurts. and