The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-05-30
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/ derjng how she could make him
/ more comfortable without waking
/ him. AS she stood considering be-
side the table at which he had been
/ drawing, cutting and pasting, her
/ ewes swept over the litter he had
made.
He draws pretty well for such
little tad" she unused tenderly,
as she picked up sheet of paper
ne had covered with chimneys, ap-
pies and stars.
She was about to clear the mess
/ from the table when her eyes rested
on a thick sheet of letter paper,
covered with bold black writing,
upon which we're superimposed
some of Curtis impressionistic
drawings.
The little devil" she thought,
snatching up the sheet. Hes got
into my flies when I wasn't looking.
No! Where in the world did
/ this come from?"
Her startled eyes swept from the
salutation: MY darling Iris to
the single initial B" with which
the letter was concluded. Then,
her. breath drawn in sharply, she
began to read:
my darling Iris: Please don't
torture yourself and me with your
doubts Of me at this time. haven't
written because it wasn't safe; it
isn't safe now. 1 tried to explain, to
/ convince YOU that our future happl-
ness is at stake. I've been in a sweat
of fear that Brainerd would learn
/ of your telephone calls and of your
visit to my apartment the other
night. 7 couldn't admit you, darling.
/ It. would have been madness. You
/ threaten to tell Morgan everything
/ if I don't prove that I love you be-
/ fore the trial is over. God knows
love you. Iris. Haven't proved 1t
/ by putting my life and liberty in
/ Jeopardy for your sake? You've been
so wonderful, so much more cou-
rageous than I. up till now. never
would have had the nerve to do
what I did if 1 had not had your
brains and your courage back of me,
/ if 7 had not known that it meant
having you always, as soon as this
farce of a trial is over. It's I'M
worthy of our love for you to be
/ Jealous of Alice Bolton, darling
Can't you understand that I had to
use her, that she was a necessary
pawn in the big game? I adore you,
/ beloved. A little more patience and
the world will be ours.-B."
CTHE letter terminated in Mans
i hand. and for a sick, dizzy
moment she thought she was going
to faint.
Then the necessity for action
steadied her. There was no doubt
at all that she held in her hand
what any court would accept as a
confession of Bert Crawford's guilt.
How little Curtis Morgan had
come to have it did not matter;
he'd probably taken it from his
mothers handbag while thieving,
like the constituencies nagpie that
/ he was. for small coins with which
to satisfy some of his innumerable
wants But what did matter was:
what was she to do with it?
A confession, a confession of guilt
from the man whom Morgan was
even then pleading with a jury to
acquit What would Morgan him
self do, if the damning letter had
/ come into his hands?
IF I learned. even while the jury
was out debating a case of mine,
that my client was guilty, I'd turn
my evidence over to the district at
/ torney and have the jury recalled"
Morgan had said to her once.
Well-now it had arisen. And
John Curtis Morgan, who held
honor dearer than life, was at this
moment trying to convince a jury
that it should acquit a man who
was thief and entirely without
honor.
If she withheld the letter now,
when there was still time for Nor
/ gan to use it against the man who
/ had betrayed him, and he learned
that she had withheld it, he would
/ never forgive her. Buff she
turned it over to Morgan he would
have no recourse but to use it and
by so doing to publish his wife's
/ faithlessness to the world.
The thought of Morgan going
through the Gethsenane of sensa-
tionaI publicity, as we'll as through
the deeper hell of knowing himself
betrayed by wife and friend, nause-
ated her.
But if she destroyed this letter
and allowed Bert Crawford to be
acquitted, the world and Morgan
both would soon know that Iris
Morgan was an unfaithful wife, for
there could be no doubt now that
the two-Crawford and Iris-were
planning to elope when the trial
was over.
But wait! Some doubt perhaps!
Crawford was a confirmed lady
killer, as Morgan had jokingly called
him. Was it possible that he cared
no more deeply for Iris than for
Alice Bolton, that he had merely
been using" his lawyers wife as he
had used" Alice Bolton, the little
switchboard operator?
But why was she wasting time in
debate? John Curtis Morgan had a
right to this letter, to the shameful,
discriminating information it held.
no matter how much his having it
might hurt him. And she had no
right to withhold it a moment
longer.