Part 13 (1/2)
”Sworn to before me this fourteenth ) day of September, 1894 ) ARTHUR P. HAWKINS ”ISAAC M. COHEN, ”Notary Public, New York County.”
There was something about this seedy rascal that filled me with disgust and suspicion, and he looked at me out of the corners of his evil eyes as if he knew that by some trick of fate he had me in his power and was gloating over it. Even while he was swearing to the paper he had a sickly sneer on his pimply face that sickened me, and when Cohen, my clerk, administered the oath to him he had the audacity to wink in his face and answer:
”It's the truth--_not!_”
Cohen, who knew a thing or two and had taken affidavits before, merely laughed, but the words sent a s.h.i.+ver down my spine and I snarled out:
”Be careful what you're saying! Do you swear that this affidavit of yours is true?”
”Yes, sir! Yes, sir!” he hastened to answer, somewhat chagrined at my not taking as a joke what he had intended for one.
”Very well,” I said to Cohen. ”Show the gentleman out. I'm very busy. Good-day.”
Afterward I would have given all the money I possessed to undo what I had done.
The case of Dillingham _versus_ Dillingham duly came on for trial, with Oscar Willoughby Bunce as the chief witness for defendant.
He had visited our office several times in an attempt to convince us that we were entirely misinformed in regard to the service of the papers in the original action and had insisted vehemently that he had personally delivered them to Hawkins in the office of the Astor House. Gottlieb had gently a.s.sured him that he must be mistaken and bowed him out, but Bunce for once in his little toy career was ”all up in the air.” He felt that his own integrity was, in some mysterious way, at stake, since it was upon his own testimony to the effect that he had made the service of the papers in question that the original decree had in part been granted.
The case was sent to a referee for hearing, and on the morning of the day set Gottlieb called me into his office and said:
”Harkee, Quib! I've a plan that will put our little friend Bunce's nose out of joint for good. It is nearly seven years now since he has seen Hawkins and it was then only for a moment.”
”Well,” said I, ”what is your game?”
”Come along to the hearing and you'll find out, my lad,” answered Gottlieb. ”Don't fail if you want to see some fun.”
Curious to discover what trick Gottlieb would be able to play, I accordingly arranged my work so as to attend the hearing, which was to be held in the referee's office in an old wooden building on Broadway. As I climbed the stairs I caught sight of Hawkins skulking on one of the landings, but he laid a finger on his lips and I pa.s.sed on and up to the attorney's office. The room, like most old-fas.h.i.+oned lawyers' offices, was but dimly lighted, and on entering I found the other side, with the exception of Mrs.
Dillingham, already there. The referee sat at one end of a large table, surrounded by his books, with his stenographer beside him; and to his left sat Bunce and a lawyer named Stires, the present ”attorney of record” for the defendant. I took my seat opposite them, introduced myself to the referee and waited. In a few moments the door opened noisily and Gottlieb entered with much bustle, accompanied by a clerk carrying books and papers and by a perfectly strange man, arrayed in very new clothes, who seemed much embarra.s.sed and doubtful as to what he should do.
”Good afternoon, gentlemen!” exclaimed Gottlieb breezily. ”I regret to have kept you waiting, but I was unavoidably detained. Shall I sit down here? Yes? Very good. Please take your seat beside me, Mr. Hawkins.”
The stranger blushed, fumbled his hat, and sat down bashfully in the place designated.
”Are you ready to proceed, gentlemen?” inquired the referee over his spectacles. ”Call your first witness.”
Bunce, who had been fidgeting in his eagerness to tell what he knew, instantly bobbed up and asked to be sworn.
After giving his name, age, and profession, he detailed how he had prepared the papers in the original case of Hawkins _versus_ Hawkins and served them upon the defendant personally at the Astor House.
”I handed them to Mr. Hawkins myself and explained them to him.
He was dressed very much as he is now,” cried Bunce.
”Do you positively identify this gentleman on your oath as the person you served with the summons and complaint?” inquired Gottlieb as if the matter were merely one of routine.
”Absolutely!” retorted Bunce hotly. ”I could identify him anywhere by the shape of his nose. I took especial pains to remark his appearance in case the service should ever be disputed.”
”Thank you. That is all,” said Gottlieb. Then turning to the stranger he directed him to take the stand.
”What is your name?” he asked sternly.
”Aaron Finkelstein--as you know very well, Mr. Gottlieb,” answered the stranger.