Part 37

How she came into the studio on the day Webster was shot, asserting that she had "told that old slob everything" (meaning her husband), and said she was going to New York; how Webster had replied that he was "through with her," to which she retorted, "I am not through with you; do you think I would kill myself without first putting a bullet into your head?" How Mrs. McDonald had requested him to leave the studio, and how he had refused to do so until Webster joined his request to hers; how Archie and the two boys employed in the studio had gone away and left them to act out the tragedy by themselves behind doors that were closed and locked; how Archie had gone to the Windsor Clifton Hotel to meet Harry Feldman, with whom he had a business appointment; how Feldman had become alarmed when he heard that Mrs. McDonald and Webster were alone in the studio, urging Archie to call Webster on the telephone; how he and Archie stepped to the 'phone, called up the studio, and after a gruff "hello" from a policeman got back the staggering news: "Your brother has been murdered."

MIKE MCDONALD DELUDED BY WIFE.

"Mike" seemingly was deluded. He may have had suspicions of his wife, but his suspicions seem to have been quieted by the woman.

Even when Guerin followed her to California she dared to wire Mike: "Web Guerin is coming; fear I shall be compromised; shall I come back?"

It was such a frank admission that the gambler urged her to have mettle. "Stick," he sent back word. "Don't let anyone bluff you."

Things went on this way until the morning of February 21, 1906. Then something happened, the climax occurred and Guerin was shot.

PROVIDES FOR THE DEFENSE.

After the arrest of his wife, "Mike" McDonald announced that he believed in her integrity and declared he would spend every cent of his fortune to save her. The former gambling dictator was almost 70 years old and his health was failing rapidly. Four months after the event he was taken to the St. Anthony de Padua Hospital, where he remained until his death, August 9, 1907.

McDonald was still passing to his death when there crept into his room a little, white-haired woman who had come from Newark, N. J. There she was known as Mrs. Grashoff and a great charity worker, especially in the interest of fallen girls in the Crittenden homes. Years before Mike McDonald had called her his first wife.

DRAMATIC MEETING OF MCDONALD AND FIRST WIFE.

By the laws of the church she was still his wife, no matter what the years had brought forth. So Mike took her hand and held it and spoke softly to her in a breath of full forgiveness and passed away. Without the door sat the woman whom he had called his wife--Dora, whom he had won from a husband and to whom he had been faithful until he stepped to the brink of his grave.

This was the last straw that crushed the spirit of Dora McDonald.

The body of Webster Guerin was removed to McNally & Duffy's undertaking rooms at 516 Wabash avenue.

Detective Wooldridge took up the work of gathering the evidence and prepared the case for the Coroner and Grand Jury.

The Grand Jury indictment placed Dora McDonald seemingly beyond the pale of bail, but Mike worked assiduously and finally secured her release from prison on $50,000 bonds. Then Mike became ill and died in St. Anthony's Hospital.

Before he gave way to his broken heart McDonald drew up a will. He set aside a defense fund with which the woman might be given adequate chance for freedom in the court, and left her "such rights and only such rights as she may be entitled to as widow."

TRIAL BEGINS.

Mrs. McDonald was put on trial January 20. The jury was completed January 25 and the taking of testimony began at once. The case of the State was made as complete as possible and the defense began an exhaustive array of testimony. The defense, however, came to a surprisingly sudden end. It had been feared that Mrs. McDonald might not live through the trial and there was every desire to have a verdict before she might give way to heart trouble.

The case was heard before Judge Theodore Brentano, and it lasted twenty-one days.

Dora McDonald was represented by Colonel James Hamilton Lewis, Chief Assistant Patrick H. O'Donnell, Attorneys Benjamin M. Shaffner, Frank R. Cain, Gabriel Norden, Clarence Shaffner and Forest G. Smith.

The State was represented by Assistant State's Attorneys William A. Rittenhouse and Edward S. Day.

NAMES OF THE JURY.

Harry Corcoran, Joseph Koehy, Arne Peterson, Hugh H. Fulton, George W. Miller, Roland F. Graham, James J. Noonan, Otto H. Nelson, Charles R. Johnson, Herbert R. Garn, Charles McGrath, John C. Anderson.

PACKED COURTROOM.

With the courtroom packed to the doors and several hundred men and women struggling to gain admission, the actual trial of Mrs. Dora McDonald, widow of Mike McDonald, commenced. Assistant State's Attorney Edward S. Day made an opening statement of the case. Trembling and his eyes flashing, he pointed a finger at Mrs. Dora McDonald and in a ringing voice denounced her as the murderess of Guerin.

"Dora McDonald became acquainted with Guerin, who was about 14 years old. His parents lived a short distance from the McDonald home.

"A friendship between Mrs. McDonald and the boy began, which his mother and other relatives later tried to end. Three years later the McDonalds removed to the Drexel boulevard home, but the intimacy of Webster Guerin and Mrs. McDonald continued.

"At any event, as time passed on, dealing meantime gently with the woman and developing Web into a young man of more than six feet in height, the two were seen frequently together. Relatives of both testified that the two kissed each other; that at times Mrs. McDonald grew jealous, in all apparent intent, over him; that she wrote poems and set them to music to show what seemed to be the very depths of a despairing heart.

"The woman was insanely jealous over him." "He had wandered out from her love into the light of other women's eyes. Driven to distraction by the thought that the boy she had taught to love had grown up to love another, she murdered him."

"No," said the defense. "This woman was the victim of blackmail. First she had been hounded until she gave way to the big youth, and then she had paid him money from her hoard in the hope that she might free herself of him."

Testimony on the blackmail point was clouded by the maze of recrimination, but the State could not deny that Mrs. McDonald had on several occasions given the young man money with which to leave the city, but that each time he had returned "broke" within a few days.

Mr. Day's denunciation of Mrs. Dora McDonald was bitter, but the defendant appeared to take no notice of what the lawyer was saying.

Dora McDonald sat quietly as if in a trance; the bitterness of failure, the weariness of defeat, was expressed in every flutter of her purple-shadowed eyelids as she came before the bar to answer for the murder of Webster Guerin, January 20, 1907.

Dora McDonald presented a pathetic appearance before the jury.

She was dressed all in black. Not a single bit of lace or white relieved the somber effect of her funereal widow's garb. In arranging her hair Mrs. McDonald exhibited a novel idea. The long, deep-auburn strands were braided into one plait and this was wound over her temples in a single coil and fastened with coral pins.

In its unaffected artlessness Mrs. McDonald's entry into the courtroom and her removal of her hat as she sank into her chair was an act of almost girlish grace. Her long black cloak, satin lined, was thrown carelessly on a chair.

When she had removed her hat and cloak she looked squarely into the faces of the jury.

DRAMATIC SCENE IN COURTROOM.

The face that was turned piteously toward the jury was deeply lined with the furrows of physical and mental suffering.

The eyes drooped constantly, and there were times when she closed them for a full minute.

Every movement of the lips or eyelids, every arrangement of dress and costume, was either studiously planned or pathetically dramatic.

The weariness and bitterness were marked in the droop of her mouth, in the perplexed wrinkling of her forehead, in the stoop of her shoulders, in the relaxation of her hands, lying heavily on the table before her.

A long, long line of battles she has behind her, with her good name torn to shreds in the fight; and nobody can guess at the scars and open wounds in her soul. No matter how great may have been her fault, how untrammeled her impulses and wishes, how wild and defiant her spirit toward the law and society, now she is a tired, broken woman, who has lost the day.

BLOOM GONE FROM CHEEK.

There are many who say that the beauty of which Dora McDonald was once so proud has departed entirely. The eyes were heavy, the skin no longer showed the pink of health, but was a dead white, her figure had fallen away until she was almost emaciated, but there was a beauty in her sadness and despair that the triumphant woman never possessed.

She seldom looked at the veniremen, nor did she appear to be following the questions put to them. Occasionally she glanced at a possible juror as he stepped up to be sworn, but for the most part she sat with her head resting on her hand, or looking ahead at some mental vision. Is it the face of young Webster Guerin she sees, as he lay dead, or the face of old "Mike" McDonald as he smoothed her hair and loaded her with caresses? Is it remorse for a crime, or longing and grief for a dead admirer? Or is it despair for a wasted life, a hopeless future, a thousand lost opportunities?

NO MADNESS IN HER EYES.

If the defense expected to utilize the plea of insanity it would have had some difficulty in inducing a jury to believe that Mrs. McDonald was greatly deranged. There was no gleam of madness in her eyes. They were dark-circled and languid, but not at all staring or strange. She seemed unusually self-poised and collected.

Without any artifices of dress or cosmetics, without any gleam of gaiety or vivacity, it was not impossible to understand why this woman wielded the great influence in the lives of three men that she did. In the first place, her features were regular and fine. Her eyebrows were delicately penciled and her eyes large and dark.

TRACES OF SIREN LEFT.

The contour of her cheeks was soft and round. But one can imagine, in happier days, that there was a captivating play of expression, an esprit, a beauté de diable, that would be particularly fascinating to a man like old "Mike" McDonald. And upon such a woman would the self-made man, the gambler, uncultivated and rough, fast approaching old age, delight to heap luxury and adoration, as there is no doubt "Mike" McDonald did.

And is it not easy to imagine that such a woman would have a powerful attraction for a young man, with her sophistication and experience matched against his ignorance? And now one of the men is dead of a broken heart, and the other struck down in the very first flush of his youth, and the instrument of pleasure and destruction stands at the end of a shattered life.

Until a jury should decide, in so far as human fallibility may decide, just whether or how Dora McDonald shot down Webster Guerin, that victim of tangled love and jealousy, a waiting city hung expectant on every incident bared since the day that the artist toppled before a pistol ball in his studio with a woman of furs and furbelows standing sobbing above him.

A "SAPPHO" AND "SALOME."

A "Sappho" in a grimy city she was called because her heart was touched by the strength of youth; a "Salome" because she planted a kiss on his dying lips, but whether she was victim or vampire, sinner or sinned against, was solely for the jury to say.

Cries of blackmail, of bribery, of frenzied jealousy, of shameless love and daring intrigue, rang around the courtroom for the long days of the trial, but for the jury it was only to look behind the locked door of the artist's studio and see whether the revolver with which Guerin was shot down was held by the woman or the young man; whether there was malice or accident or self-destruction, and what the motive for either might be.

The shot that sounded his death was the climax to an attachment--guilty or not, as the case might be--that began when Dora McDonald was a wonderfully beautiful and younger woman, the wife of a wealthy gambler, and the lady of a mansion, and Webster Guerin was a mere lad, just old enough to doff short trousers for manly attire.

Affection, money and attention were lavished on the young man by this woman. At banquet board and in the theater box they passed their hours together. Of this there was no dispute. The sole question was whether the woman gave way to the lure of a boy, or whether the boy was importuned by the woman; whether in after years that boy blackmailed that same woman, or whether she loved him to a distraction that brought the madness of jealousy and the revolver.

And what of the love attachment? the police wondered. But as they delved a little they unearthed strange and tender things, but nothing more strange than poems written by the woman and apparently dedicated to the youth.

The tragedy of a soul was bared when Assistant State's Attorney Day read to the jury poems of passion found in the reticule taken from Mrs. McDonald on her arrest.

The State regarded the declarations contained in the verse as disclosing a dual motive of murder and suicide, and introduced them as circumstantial evidence. One entitled "Mistakes" was written on the day of the Guerin love tragedy.

Here is the first one read:

TRAGEDY OF A SOUL IN POEMS OF PASSION BY DORA MCDONALD.

Put the word "finish" down by my name: I played for high stakes, but I lost the game; I played for life, for honor and love: Well, I am not the first mortal who has lost all. I have made up my mind to care not a bit; Let honor and love sink to the bottomless pit. Pull down the curtains, bring in the lights, Put from my memory horrible sights Of treachery where there should have been love, Of red blood where should have been whiteness of dove; The past, the present and the future are done: How different, O God! had it been had I won.

WRITTEN AS TRAGEDY APPROACHED.

We are drifting apart, Though from no change of heart: But we cannot agree, And the end we can see, So the bonds of our love we will sever; And I wonder if we Will, alas! too late see That our happiness lay in each other. For when soul finds its mate It is often too late To struggle and fight against conquering fate. And what does it mean? This parting, I ween; I'll leave you, but, well. Neither heaven nor hell Will make me forget you. Nor save you should I find Another holds the place that was and is mine.

POEM WRITTEN ON DATE OF THE GUERIN TRAGEDY.

This poem, entitled "Mistakes," is dated February 21, 1907. 11:20 a. m.:

Said he: "Where is my sin? I'm only as men have ever been. I'm not so bad, I'm not so good, And I'd be as you'd have me if only I could. But you are strong and good and brave. Surely for me a road you can pave, A road which shall be my happiness, my very soul save. After all, it's for you and you only that I crave." She waited a moment, then came her reply: "To the old adage, that women are weak, you can give the lie. Not only you, others as well, All through life have the same tale to tell. I didn't mean to do it--I didn't, I swear, But you can forgive me; your loss I cannot bear. Can I forgive you? Well, that's not so clear, Though you certainly were to me very dear. I think, after all, now that I am awake. I think it was I who made the mistake. I thought of you ever as a flower rare. With whom other flowers could not even compare. Alack and alas! I find, after all, You are only a sunflower, of which there are many, Who take all the elements have to give And give nothing that creates or causes happiness to live."

"KILL ME IF YOU WILL," SHE SAYS IN A VERSE.

Another of Mrs. McDonald's poems, written on the day of the killing, is as follows:

Kill me if you will, for all is well. I know that to Satan your soul you can't sell, And I've saved you from everlasting hell. I had lifted you up, when, lo! I found Slowly but surely you were dragging me down. Out of space thus came a warning Soft and clear as the breath of the morning.

PEARLS BEFORE SWINE.

Have you learned the old saying of pearls before swine? I gave every pearl that ever was mine. I've nothing more to give. And it's hardly worth while for me to live. More blessed to give than receive, they say. I followed that teaching in my poor way. I wanted returns, I'll have to confess, And I had to be cool, and firm and brave, For I knew 'twas my duty your soul to save. And I've set your feet on the path of right, And from now till the end you shall see but the light And turn from it to pitfalls and terrors of night. Turn to the right, to the wrong you may sway. From black imps' vile rottenness I've snatched you away, And though I fall slain at your feet with a moan, I care not, for evil from you has flown; And, by all the glory of God above, I've proven the strength of a weak woman's love, And I thought my pearls would bring love that was blessed. I did so want love that was loyal; 'Twas more to me than a diadem royal. But I found too late that I was wrong, That love but existed in hopes and in song. What became of those pearls of mine? Oh, nothing! I just threw my pearls to the swine.

ANOTHER POEM OF PASSION.

I waged a battle fierce and long, I fought to know the right from wrong. Did I succeed? I cannot tell, Yet when I met sin I knew full well That fight's not over. 'Tis scarcely begun, And I struggle again to win, one by one, Steps on the ladder that mounts to great deeds, Where the path to the right unfailingly leads. As I gazed at the battlefield, flooded with gore, Where the path to the right unfailingly bore, I knew that the wounds came from contact with sin. 'Twas demons let loose that float in the air; But the fight's worth the while, for when Misery and heartaches shall all pass away Right has full sway.

The reading of the poems was followed intently by the big crowd in Judge Brentano's courtroom. Mrs. McDonald appeared uninterested.

From poetry the step was easy into song. Accomplished and educated as Dora McDonald was, with time hanging, sometimes, heavy on her hands, what more natural than that she should set her verses to music of her own composing?

NEVER AGAIN.

(Song written, composed and published by Mrs. Michael C. McDonald.)

'Twas only a story of a woman's love, a tale that has often been told. She gave a love that knew no bounds; the rest of the story is old. Again he had strayed, and this time had made a mistake she could never forget; In a voice that was dense with a grief intense she mournfully did say:

I gave you sweetest love, you gave me naught but pain; Oh, I forgave you more than once but to be hurt again. This time it means the end, for I could never forget. I shall never see you again, although I love you yet.

With tears in his eyes the man replied: "I know that I have gone astray; Remorse will last till life is passed; forgive me, don't send me away. Oh, let me atone, live for you alone; just once more have pity on me." But, bowing her head, with its look of one dead, she softly but firmly said:

I gave you sweetest love, etc.

The mother of the woman, an aged orthodox Hebrew, never went near Dora McDonald until the trial was nearly done, though that same old woman bent her knees as she day and night raised her voice to Jehovah in lamentations.

Ill health, mental and physical, followed. All the sorrows of a shattered life befell her.

SOUGHT VINDICATION TO SPARE HER AGED MOTHER.

For Dora McDonald, life had been lived when Guerin died. It mattered not after that whether she went to the gallows or to freedom. But for one reason she would not have cared a whit whether her case was fought before a jury or not. The one reason was vindication that her mother might be spared something of shame.

The vindication, however, was sought at a costly price--the price of a life and heart and love bared to a gaping world. It was an expensive effort to wash off the stain of an indictment.

At the trial Assistant State's Attorneys Edward S. Day and William H. Rittenhouse wrangled with their own witnesses and tried one after another to have them testify to things they never saw or heard.

They attacked Inspector John Wheeler, Officer J. G. S. Peterson, Thomas F. McFarland, Detective Wooldridge, Police Matron Elizabeth Belmont, Charles Freudenberg, an old soldier 60 years old, and threatened him with an indictment; Louis Jacobs, Lorenzo Blasi, Herman Hanson and Charles B. Williams.

All of those accused except Detective Wooldridge considered the fulminations of Attorneys Day and Rittenhouse a good joke. They regarded them as the vaporings of temporarily disordered intellects, minds that had become rattled by a case which was too big for them.

Owing, however, to the peculiar position in which he was placed as the officer who made the arrest, Wooldridge was forced to take cognizance of the matter.

Wooldridge denied the statements made against him and branded them as malicious lies manufactured out of whole cloth. He asked for a hearing before the Civil Service Board, which was granted to him after the trial was over.

It was fully shown at the investigation how Wooldridge had been treated in the matter, and the motive for his transfer; it was also shown that he knew no new facts, neither did he meet or know any witnesses except those who had testified to the Coroner and Grand Jury.

The motives for his transfer and the reports were fully uncovered and exposed.

Detective Wooldridge was exonerated by the entire Board of Civil Service Commissioners.

Day and Rittenhouse simply sewed up the case in criminations and recriminations.

Assistant State's Attorneys Day and Rittenhouse were outgeneraled, outclassed and whipped, and wanted to throw the blame for the acquittal of Dora McDonald on the Police Department and failed. They did everything but try the case.

STRONG DEFENSE BY LEWIS.

Colonel Lewis said that the State had not denied that the revolver with which Guerin was shot was his own. He called for the weapon and showed the jury how Guerin might have shot himself if Mrs. McDonald, in her struggle with him, had merely pushed the revolver around in the palm of his hand.

Again he called for the blood-stained coat that Guerin wore when he was killed. It was too good an opportunity to be overlooked by the fine dramatic eye of the Colonel.

"You remember the speech of Mark Anthony," he said; "how he produced a tremendous effect with the robe of the great Cæsar? I will not ask for more than the robe that this Cæsar wore."

Thereupon he spread out the grewsome relic on the railing on the jury box to show what he said were powder marks. In his mind, there was no doubt about how the tragedy worked out. Guerin, enraged and terrified when Mrs. McDonald told him that she had told her rich and influential husband everything, attacked her. He got the revolver out of his drawer, probably to frighten her. Mrs. McDonald, half choked, saw it gleam and pushed it away from her.

STRIKES HARD AT ARCHIE GUERIN.