felt as though he was about to be physically attacked.
“Griffiths, you had that camera in your hand at the time she
came toward you in the boat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She stumbled and fell and you accidentally struck her with
it?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t suppose in your truthful and honest way you
remember telling me there in the woods on the shore of Big
Bittern that you never had a camera?”
“Yes, sir—I remember that.”
“And that was a lie, of course?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And told with all the fervor and force that you are now
telling this other lie?”
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“I’m not lying. I’ve explained why I said that.”
“You’ve explained why you said that! You’ve explained why
you said that! And because you lied there you expect to be
believed here, do you?”
Belknap rose to object, but Jephson pulled him down.
“Well, this is the truth, just the same.”
“And no power under heaven could make you tell another
lie here, of course—not a strong desire to save yourself
from the electric chair?”
Clyde blanched and quivered slightly; he blinked his red,
tired eyelids. “Well, I might, maybe, but not under oath, I
don’t think.”
“You don’t think! Oh, I see. Lie all you want wherever you
are—and at any time—and under any circumstances—
except when you’re on trial for murder!”
“No, sir. It isn’t that. But what I just said is so.”
“And you swear on the Bible, do you, that you experienced
a change of heart?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That Miss Alden was very sad and that was what moved
you to experience this change of heart?”
“Yes, sir. That’s how it was.”
“Well, now, Griffiths, when she was up there in the country
and waiting for you—she wrote you all those letters there,
did she not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You received one on an average of every two days, didn’t
you?”
An American Tragedy
1037
“Yes, sir.”
“And you knew she was lonely and miserable there, didn’t
you?”
“Yes, sir—but then I’ve explained——”
“Oh, you’ve explained! You mean your lawyers have
explained it for you! Didn’t they coach you day after day in
that jail over there as to how you were to answer when the
time came?”
“No, sir, they didn’t!” replied Clyde, defiantly, catching
Jephson’s eye at this moment.
“Well, then when I asked you up there at Bear Lake how it
was that his girl met her death—why didn’t you tell me then
and save all this trouble and suspicion and investigation?
Don’t you think the public would have listened more kindly
and believingly there than it will now after you’ve taken five
long months to think it all out with the help of two lawyers?”
“But I didn’t think it out with any lawyers,” persisted Clyde,
still looking at Jephson, who was supporting him with all his
mental strength. “I’ve just explained why I did that.”
“You’ve explained! You’ve explained!” roared Mason,
almost beside himself with the knowledge that this false
explanation was sufficient of a shield or barrier for Clyde to
hide behind whenever he found himself being too hard
pressed—the little rat! And so now he fairly quivered with
baffled rage as he proceeded.
“And before you went up—while she was writing them to you
—you considered them sad, didn’t you?”
“Why, yes, sir. That is”—he hesitated incautiously—“some
parts of them anyhow.”
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1038
“Oh, I see—only some parts of them now. I thought you just
said you considered them sad.”
“Well, I do.”
“And did.”
“Yes, sir—and did.” But Clyde’s eyes were beginning to
wander nervously in the direction of Jephson, who was
fixing him as with a beam of light.
“Remember her writing you this?” And here Mason picked
up and opened one of the letters and began reading: “Clyde
—I shall certainly die, dear, if you don’t come. I am so much
alone. I am nearly crazy now. I wish I could go away and
never return or trouble you any more. But if you would only
telephone me, even so much as once every other day,
since you won’t write. And when I need you and a word of
encouragement so.” Mason’s voice was mellow. It was sad.
One could feel, as he spoke, the wave of passing pity that
was moving as sound and color not only through him but
through every spectator in the high, narrow courtroom.
“Does that seem at all sad to you?”
“Yes, sir, it does.”
“Did it then?”
“Yes, sir, it did.”
“You knew it was sincere, didn’t you?” snarled Mason.
“Yes, sir. I did.”
“Then why didn’t a little of that pity that you claim moved
you so deeply out there in the center of Big Bittern move
you down there in Lycurgus to pick up the telephone there
in Mrs. Peyton’s house where you were and reassure that
lonely girl by so much as a word that you were coming?
Was it because your pity for her then wasn’t as great as it
An American Tragedy
1039
was after she wrote you that threatening letter? Or was it
because you had a plot and you were afraid that too much
telephoning to her might attract attention? How was it that
you had so much pity all of a sudden up at Big Bittern, but
none at all down there at Lycurgus? Is it something you can
turn on and off like a faucet?”
“I never said I had none at all,” replied Clyde, defiantly,
having just received an eye-flash from Jephson.
“Well, you left her to wait until she had to threaten you
because of her own terror and misery.”
“Well, I’ve admitted that I didn’t treat her right.”
“Ha, ha! Right! Right! And because of that admission and in
face of all the other testimony we’ve had here, your own
included, you expect to walk out of here a free man, do
you?”
Belknap was not to be restrained any longer. His objection
came—and with bitter vehemence he addressed the judge:
“This is infamous, your Honor. Is the district attorney to be
allowed to make a speech with every question?”
“I heard no objection,” countered the court. “The district
attorney will frame his questions properly.”
Mason took the rebuke lightly and turned again to Clyde. “In
that boat there in the center of Big Bittern you have testified
that you had in your hand that camera that you once denied
owning?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And she was in the stern of the boat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring in that boat, will you, Burton?” he called to Burleigh
at this point, and forthwith four deputies from the district
An American Tragedy
1040
attorney’s office retired through a west door behind the
judge’s rostrum and soon returned carrying the identical
boat in which Clyde and Roberta had sat, and put it down
before the jury. And as they did so Clyde chilled and stared.
The identical boat! He blinked and quivered as the
audience stirred, stared and strained, an audible wave of
curiosity and interest passing over the entire room. And
then Mason, taking the camera and shaking it up and
down, exclaimed: “Well, here you are now, Griffiths! The
camera you never owned. Step down here into this boat
and take this camera here and show the jury just where you
sat, and where Miss Alden sat. And exactly, if you can, how
and where it was that you struck Miss Alden and where and
about how she fell.”
“Object!” declared Belknap.
A long and wearisome legal argument, finally terminating in
the judge allowing this type of testimony to be continued for
a while at least. And at the conclusion of it, Clyde declaring:
“I didn’t intentionally strike her with it though”—to which
Mason replied: “Yes, we heard you testify that way”—then
Clyde stepping down and after being directed here and
there finally stepping into the boat at the middle seat and
seating himself while three men held it straight.
“And now, Newcomb—I want you to come here and sit
wherever Miss Alden was supposed to sit and take any
position which he describes as having been taken by her.”
“Yes, sir,” said Newcomb, coming forward and seating
himself while Clyde vainly sought to catch Jephson’s eye
but could not since his own back was partially turned from
him.
An American Tragedy
1041
“And now, Griffiths,” went on Mason, “just you show Mr.
Newcomb here how Miss Alden arose and came toward
you. Direct him.”
And then Clyde, feeling weak and false and hated, arising
again and in a nervous and angular way—the eerie
strangeness of all this affecting him to the point of
unbelievable awkwardness—attempting to show Newcomb
just how Roberta had gotten up and half walked and half
crawled, then had stumbled and fallen. And after that, with
the camera in his hand, attempting to show as nearly as he
could recall, how unconsciously his arm had shot out and
he had struck Roberta, he scarcely knowing where—on the