Chapter XI: Front Matter (11)

That is what I say. That is what we all say, gentlemen.

If the transaction then had been perfectly honest the papers would have been precisely as they are. From the papers being precisely as they are, do they tend to show that the transaction was dishonest, when it is admitted by everybody and decided by the Court, that if the transaction had been perfectly honest the papers would have been just as they are? Recollect my text. Every fact when you are proving a circumstantial case has to point to the guilt of the defendants, and their guilt has to be found from all the facts in the case beyond a reasonable doubt. If there is one fact inconsistent with their guilt, the case is gone.

There is another little admission to which I call your attention. Nothing delights me so much as to have the prosecution in a moment of forgetfulness, or we will say on purpose, admit a fact. Mr. Bliss said, on page 5018:

You will bear in mind that the division took place some eight months previous to that.

That was January 1, 1880,

However that may be, these papers are all papers which on their faces might be innocent and fair and proper. They are papers which, under ordinary circumstances, might be executed to enable others than the contractor to draw the pay and to be tiled with the department, though it appears, I think, by the evidence in this case that no draft could be filed except shortly prior to the quarter as to which it applied. As to these papers all that we have to say is this: they are papers on their face apparently innocent, papers calculated to go through in the ordinary practice as though there was nothing wrong about them. At the same time the evidence shows that they were papers executed by these several parties at the time of or in pursuance of the agreement of the division.

I do not want anything better. That settles the papers. They were made at the time they agreed to make them. It was the only way in which they could give the party who got the route absolute control of the route.

Now, gentlemen, apart from these papers, I believe they have three witnesses, at least they are called witnesses, in this case. The first witness that I will call your attention to, and who figures about as early as anybody, is A. W. Moore. I want to ask you a few questions about his testimony. I want you to understand exactly what he swears to and the circumstances. Let us see.

He swears first that he had a conversation with Miner, in which he told Miner that he would work for him for one hundred and fifty dollars a month and expenses, with permission to put on some of his own service, I think, in Oregon and California, and that Mr. Miner accepted his terms, and employed him as the agent of Miner, Peck & Co. Recollect that, Miner, Peck & Co. Second, that Miner told him to report at Dorsey's house to get instructions. Miner at that time was staying at Dorsey's house. I do not know whether it was to get instructions from Dorsey or from the house, or from Miner. I take it, from Miner. No matter. Mr. Moore then swears that he reported to Dorsey and Dorsey asked him his opinion about the service. Moore had never been there and did not know one of the routes, but Dorsey was anxious for his opinion. How did he know any more about the service than Dorsey? There is no evidence that Moore knew the price. There is no evidence that he knew the amount the Government was to pay on a single route. He was a stranger. Then he had another conversation with Dorsey in which Dorsey told him that they had bid on the long routes with slow time, because that was the way to make money. Not satisfied with that, Mr. Dorsey showed him the subcontracts with the blanks and with the changes, and then he explained to him the descending scale, and he explained to him the percentage of expedition. He said Dorsey told him forty per cent, of the expedition. Boone swears it was sixty-five per cent. There is a little difference; not much. Moore swears that he himself was to have twenty-five per cent, of the stealings. Let us see how that is. Boone swears that the subcontractor was to have sixty-five per cent. Rerdell swears that Brady was to have thirty-three and one-third per cent. That leaves one and two-third per cent, for the contractor. Do you see? The subcontractor got sixty-five dollars out of one hundred dollars, and then Brady got thirty-three dollars and thirty-three and one-third cents. That makes ninety-eight dollars and thirty-three and one-third cents, leaving the contractor one dollar and sixty-six and two-third cents. That was all he got. Did you ever know of anybody on earth doing business at a smaller per cent, and paying for the trouble? Now, Mr. Moore comes in with his statement. He says the subcontractor got forty per cent, and then he himself got twenty-five per cent. That makes sixty-five. Then, according to Rerdell, Brady was to have thirty-three and one-third per cent. That makes ninety-eight and one-third. There is the most wonderful coincidence in this whole trial. Rerdell and Boone and Moore agree exactly that the contractor gave up ninety-eight and one-third per cent, to others and took one and two-thirds himself. Did you ever know as much humanity in a conspiracy as that? Did you ever know such a streak of benevolence to strike anybody? It reminds me of a case of disinterested benevolence that happened in Southern Illinois. A young man there went to a lawyer and said to him, "I want to get a divorce, I was married at a time when I was drunk, and when I sobered up I didn't like the marriage. I want a divorce." The lawyer asked, "What do you want of a divorce?" "Well," he said, "do you know the widow Thompson?" "Yes." "She has been a widow there for about forty years. Do you know her boy? He is the biggest thief in this county. He went over the Ohio River the other day and stole a set of harness and a mule." "What has that to do with this divorce case?" "Well," he said, "I want to get a divorce and I want to marry that widow." "What for?" "I want to get control of that boy and see if I can't break him from stealing. I have got some humanity in me." Here are S. W. Dorsey, his brother, his brother-in-law, Miner and Vaile starting a charity conspiracy, and out of every hundred dollars that they steal they offer ninety-eight dollars and thirty-three cents upon the altar of disinterested friendship. You are asked to believe that. You will not do it.

Mr. Moore also swears that he received some money by a check, but he does not know whether the check was payable to him or payable to Miner, and he got a power of attorney signed by Miner from John W. Dorsey and John M. Peck, and then he started, S. W. Dorsey assuring him in the meantime that he could tell the people out there that the service would be increased and expedited in a few days. Mr. Moore is a peculiar man. He says that that suited him exactly. He was willing to steal what little he could; he was willing to steal for one hundred and fifty dollars a month if he couldn't get any more, or he was willing to steal for a part of the stealing. If he could not get that he would take an ordinary salary. I should think he was a good man from what he says. You heard him. They were wonderfully anxious to prove by Moore that Dorsey was the head and front of this whole business. That was the object, and so he swore as to the instructions. He said he was instructed to get up petitions so that they could be torn off and the names pasted on other petitions. He swore he carried out those instructions. He swore that Major agreed to do it, and I think a man by the name of McBeau was going to do it. Yet, gentlemen, there never was such a petition gotten up. Major swore here that he never heard of it; that he never dreamed of it, and never agreed to it; that it was a lie; that it was never suggested to him. Moore went out West and came back as far as Denver, and at Denver met John R. Miner, and then came here and saw Dorsey. What did he do with Dorsey? He swears that he went to Stephen W. Dorsey and settled with him, and that Dorsey settled in a very generous and magnanimous way, and did not want to look at his account, and did not want to look at the book; had no anxiety or curiosity about the items. He just said, "How much is it?" It happened to be even dollars--two hundred and fifty dollars. When a man goes out West and has hotel bills and all that sort of thing, when he comes to render his expense account it is always even dollars. Moore said two hundred and fifty dollars. Dorsey gave it to him; never looked at the book at all. Moore swears that he made that settlement with Stephen W. Dorsey on the 11th day of July, 1878. Dorsey was then in the Senate.

Look at page 1417. You see that Moore had been smart; that is what people call smart. You know it is never smart to tell a lie. Very few men have the brains to tell a good lie. It is an awfully awkward thing to deal with after you? have told it. You see it will not fit anything else except another lie that you make, and you have to start a factory in a short time to make lies enough to support that poor little bantling that you left on the door-step of your honesty. A man that is going to tell a lie should be ingenious and he should have an excellent memory. That man swore that he settled with Dorsey to the 11th day of July, 1878; swore it for the purpose of convincing you that Dorsey employed him; that Dorsey gave him instructions; that Dorsey was the head and front of the conspiracy. I then handed him a little paper, and asked him, "Do you know anything about that? Did you ever sign that?" And here it is:

Not July 11. That is the day he got the money of Dorsey.

July 24, 1878.

Received of Miner, Peck & Co., one hundred and sixty-six dollars, balance of salary and expenses in full to July 11, 1878.

A. W. MOORE.

To when? To July 24? No, sir; he settled with Dorsey to July 11, 1878. The gentlemen had forgotten that he gave that. If he had only had a little more brains he would have avoided the two hundred and fifty dollars, that even amount, and he would have said, "Dorsey did look over my books, and we had a little dispute about some items, and we just jumped at two hundred and fifty dollars." But he swears that was the actual settlement, and then we bring in his receipt in writing, dated the 24th of July, 1878, saying that he received one hundred and sixty-six dollars that day, and that it was in full of his salary and expenses, not up to that date, but up to the nth of July, 1878. If his testimony is true, he stole that one hundred and sixty-six dollars. If his testimony is true, he settled with Dorsey in full for two hundred and fifty dollars, and then he was mean enough to go and get one hundred and sixty-six dollars more for the same time. No, gentlemen, he was all right enough about it then; he told the falsehood here.

Now, what does Dorsey swear? Dorsey swears that he received an order from Miner to give this man two hundred and fifty dollars. Miner swears that if Dorsey paid him anything it was on his, Miner's, request. That is a v perfectly natural proceeding for Mr. Miner to request Dorsey to pay this man two hundred and fifty dollars. The man came to Dorsey's house. Dorsey gave him two hundred and fifty dollars upon Miner's order. He was trusting John R. Miner for the money, and it was none of his business whether Miner owed it or not, and consequently he did not look at his book. Now, every fact is consistent with the truth of Mr. Dorsey's testimony; the fact is consistent with the truth of Miner's testimony; and the receipt of this man given to Miner on the 24th of July, 1878, demonstrates that he did not tell the truth, under oath, in this court before you.

That is the end of Mr. Moore; that is the end of him. You never need bother about him again as long as you live.

Why, they say, "Why didn't you impeach him?" He impeached himself. "Why didn't you call so-and-so?" Because we had that receipt; that is why. No need of killing a man that is dead. You need not give poison to a corpse. When a thing is buried, let it go. When a man commits suicide, you need not murder him. When he destroys his own testimony, let it alone; it will not hurt you.

I am not afraid of the testimony of Mr. Moore. If these gentlemen can galvanize it into the appearance of life, I should be very happy to see them do it. Everything that he swore upon this stand that in any way touched the defendants is shown not to be true.

Why should Dorsey have told him in 1878 to get up fraudulent petitions? Even Rerdell does not swear that in 1879 Dorsey instructed him to get up fraudulent petitions, and certainly he would go to the limit of the truth. After he made his story out of a piece of true cloth there would be very few scraps left. He would certainly go clear to the line. And yet, even he does not swear that when he went West to make contracts, to get up petitions, he was instructed by Mr. Dorsey to get up a fraudulent petition--not once. And yet Moore swears that in 1878, when Dorsey was in the Senate, he told him to get up these fraudulent petitions. It will not do.

Mr. Major swears that what he says about it is not true; Mr. McBean swears that what he says about it is not true; and then we have Moore's own receipt showing that it is not true.

On page 4757 Mr. Bliss says--Moore stands before you, therefore, so far as all this testimony is concerned, wholly and absolutely uncontradicted.

His testimony was that he was employed by Dorsey; his testimony was that he was settled with by Dorsey, and the testimony of the receipt that he signed is that he settled with Miner and not with Dorsey; the testimony of Miner is that he was settled with by Miner, and not with by Dorsey; the testimony of Dorsey is that he never had any conversation with him in the world except at the time he paid him the two hundred and fifty dollars. They say Rerdell was present at the conversation. Why did they not prove it by Rerdell after Dorsey had sworn to the contrary? And yet Mr. Bliss tells you that he is not contradicted--"utterly uncontradicted."

Mr. Ker, it seems, has an opinion of this same witness, I believe. He says, on page 4511:

He says he started out and went to work, as these records show, and made the subcontracts according to his instructions, and got up the petitions according to his instructions.

He swears he did not get up a petition at all, not one; he swears that he had not time. And yet these gentlemen say that he got up petitions according to his instructions, and he swears he did not. He swears he told Major to, and that Major signified his willingness to do it. Major swears that that is a falsehood. He swears the same with reference to McBean, and McBean swears that it is a falsehood. Now Mr. Ker goes on:

He fixed them up and changed the language a little in some, and in some he did not take the trouble to change, but he fixed them all so that there was a space between the writing and the names, so that they could be cut off and pasted on other papers.

He expressly denies that he ever fixed a petition in the world.

Mr. Ker. What page?

Mr. Ingersoll. You ask the page! Talk to the jury seven days! I say that this man never fixed up a petition, and he never says that he fixed up a petition. Where is the page on which he says it? He was willing to do it, but he had not the time. I will show you that language. There is what they say about this man. Then he says he got a note from Miner, and went to Denver and met Miner. That is right. Then Miner offered him a quarter interest in the routes in this vast conspiracy.

Let us find what Moore thinks of himself. We find that on page 1398. He is a good man, worthy of this case, according to the eternal fitness of things. I come to this quicker than I thought I would. It is page 1396:

Q. Did you get up any?--A. No, sir; I didn't have the time.

There it is. Now, of course, Mr. Ker forgot. I call your attention to this to show how little weight such evidence is entitled to in reference to a conversation five years ago, when Mr. Ker could not remember this with the book before him.

Mr. Ker. I asked you for the page on which Mr. McBean's testimony appears.

Mr. Ingersoll. Mr. Moore is the witness. Mr. Moore swears that he never got up such a petition. Mr. Ker says he did. He and Mr. Ker will have to settle their own difficulty.

On last Friday, in reply, I think, to a question of Mr. Ker, I stated that I thought McBean swore that Mr. Moore did not make any arrangement with him to get up false petitions. In that I was mistaken. Mr. Moore swore that he made an arrangement with McBean to get up petitions. He did not quite swear that McBean agreed to get up false and fraudulent petitions. He just came to the edge of it and did not quite swear to it. Afterwards McBean was recalled by the Government and the Government did not ask McBean whether he had ever agreed to get up any petitions or whether he had ever made any such arrangement with Moore. They did not ask him and we did not ask him. I do not know why they did not ask him. They probably know.

I also stated that Moore swore that he got his instructions about these petitions from Dorsey. The evidence is that he got his instructions not from Dorsey but from Miner; that Miner so instructed him, and that thereupon he made the bargain to get up such petitions with a man by the name of Major on the Redding and Alturas route. I make this correction because I do not want you or any one else to think that I wish any misstatement made in our favor. We do not need it and consequently there is no need of making it. You will remember that after Moore swore that he made a bargain with Major to get up false petitions, Major swore that it was untrue. You will also remember that Judge Carpenter called for the petitions that were gotten up upon the routes that Moore had something to do with, and I think he showed you on one route eleven or twelve petitions. Mr. Major swears that every petition was honest, that the statements in each petition were true, and that the signatures were genuine. All those petitions were shown to you. So that the result of the Moore testimony is this: Moore swears that Miner told him to get up such petitions. He then swears that he made that bargain with Major. Major says it is not true. Moore almost swears that he made the same bargain with McBean. McBean says nothing on the subject. Then we bring here the petitions upon those very routes, and especially upon the Redding and Alturas route, and we find no such petitions as are described by Moore. That is enough in regard to Mr. Moore upon that one point.

There is one little piece of testimony to which I failed to call your attention on Friday, and to which I will call your attention now. Moore was the friend of Boone. Boone recommended him to Miner. It was through Boone that Moore was employed. Now, I ask you if it is not wonderful that Moore never told Boone that there was a conspiracy on foot? Is it not wonderful that Moore did not tell Boone, his friend, the man to whom he was indebted for the employment, "There is a conspiracy in this case. Senator Dorsey as good as told me so. I know all about it."

The fact is he never said one word, and the reason we know it, is that Boone swears that when he went out on the 7th or 8th of August he never even suspected it. I cannot, it seems to me, make this point too plain. Boone had been known by Dorsey for a long time. They were very good friends. Dorsey had enough confidence in him to select him as the man to get the necessary information after he had been requested so to do in the letter. Boone was the man who attended to this business more than anybody else. Boone was interested with John W. Dorsey. Boone had every reason to find out exactly what was happening. He was at Dorsey's house, where Miner was. He talked with Miner day after day. He helped get up the bids. He did a great deal of mechanical work. He had the subcontracts printed. Yet during all that time Dorsey never let fall a chance expression that gave Boone even the dimmest dawn of a hint that there was a conspiracy. Nobody told Boone. Moore, his friend, never spoke of it.

Now, there is one other point with regard to Mr. Moore. Mr. Moore swears, on page 1371, that Miner offered him a fourth interest in these routes. That was the conversation in which he said Mr. Miner told him they were good affidavit men. According to Moore's testimony he then knew there was a conspiracy, and he understood that he was part and parcel of it. Let me ask you right here, is it probable that Moore would have been offered a quarter interest at that time if a conspiracy existed, and if they had their plans laid to make hundreds of thousands of dollars, and if the profits had depended upon the affidavits alone? I ask you, as sensible, reasonable men, if he would have been offered a quarter interest under those circumstances? Now conies in what I believe to be the falsehood. Mr. Moore says that the interest was offered to him by Miner, but Miner said it would have to be ratified by Stephen W. Dorsey. That is brought in for the purpose of having some evidence against Dorsey. You must recollect, gentlemen, that this evidence was all purchased. This evidence was all bargained for in the open shamble. You must recollect that there are upon the records of this court some seven or ten indictments against A. E. Boone. You must remember that Moore was Boone's friend. You must remember that Moore was a part of the consideration that Boone was giving to the Government for immunity.

Mr. Merrick. Is there any proof of that?

Mr. Ingersoll. I think there is. Mr. Moore swears as to the number of indictments against Boone. He was his friend. The jury have a right to infer what motive prompts a witness. Moore wished to swear enough, so that Mr. Boone would not be troubled. In my judgment, Mr. Boone, being under indictment, gave evidence in this case in order that the Government would take its clutch from his throat. He swore under pressure. That is the system, gentlemen, that is dangerous in any country. Whenever a Government advertises for witnesses; whenever a Government says to a guilty man, or to a man who is indicted, "All we ask of you is to help us convict somebody else;" whenever they advertise for a villain, they get him. That is the result of what they call the informer system--an infamous system. A court of justice, where justice is done between man and man, is the holiest place on earth. The informer system turns it into a den, into a cavern, into a dungeon, where crawl the slimy monsters of perjury and treachery. That is the informer system. It makes a court a den of wild beasts. What else does it do? Under its brood and hatch come spies; spies to watch witnesses, spies to watch counsel, spies to follow jurymen, so that a juror cannot leave his house without the shadow of the spy falling upon his door-step. That is not the proper attitude of a Government. The business of a Government is to protect its citizens, not to spread nets. The business of a Government is to throw its shield of power in front of the rights of every citizen. I hold in utter, infinite, and absolute contempt any Government that calls for informers and spies. Every trial should be in the free air. All the work should be done openly. These sinister motions in the dark, the crawling of these abnormal and slimy things, I abhor.

Now, to come back to Moore. Upon my word I think he was trying to help his friend. After Mr. Miner had offered him a quarter interest, then he came back to Washington. He arrived here, according to his evidence, about the 11th day of July, I think. He went immediately to see Stephen W. Dorsey. Recollect that. That was the time Dorsey settled with him without looking at his books. After he settled with him and gave him two hundred and fifty dollars he asked him to telegraph to see if the service had been put on The Dalles and Baker City route. He waited here until he received an answer, and after that he talked with Dorsey not only about that matter, but in that conversation Dorsey said, according to Moore, that it took a good deal of money to keep up their influence in the department. When I asked him when that conversation was, he said two or three days after the first conversation. According to the evidence in this case Stephen W. Dorsey left this city on the 12th of July. This man Moore arrived on the nth, and he says two or three days after his arrival Dorsey said it took money to keep up their influence here. When he swears that Dorsey told him that, Dorsey was in the city of Oberlin, Ohio. Recollect these things. Whoever tells stories of this character should have a most excellent memory.

Now, there is another thing. When did Miner get back? He got back by the 24th of July, because on the 24th of July he settled with Moore, and I believe then Moore went West again. Now, remember there was a contract made, as Moore swears. He has not got it. Nobody sees it. He says there was a contract made by which he had a fourth interest in something. He got back here I believe some time in November, and on the 20th of November he and Miner settled. I will now look on page 1430 for that settlement. I want you to see how everything was situated at that time.

I find on page 1430 that Mr. Miner settled for everybody with Mr. A. W. Moore. Remember the situation. Moore knew there was a conspiracy. All the service was on. You see, this was November 20, 1880. Vaile was in. They had a man who was close to Brady. Everything was running in magnificent style. Mr. Moore understood that there was a conspiracy. What more did he understand? That he had the claw of his avarice in the flesh of a United States Senator and in the flesh of a Second Assistant Postmaster-General. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were to be made. He came back here and settled up and sold out his interest for how much? Six hundred and eighty-two dollars. Do you believe that? Credulity would not believe it. Nobody believes it, that is if the rest of the story is true. Why did he settle with him for so little? He said Mr. Miner told him he hadn't a dollar. He did not reply to him, "When this conspiracy is completed you will have plenty. I can wait." No. Miner said he hadn't anything and so Moore settled for six hundred and eighty-two dollars. Then I asked him, "You had a contract with Dorsey, did you?" "Yes; verbally." "Did you ever say anything to Dorsey about it?" "No." "Did you ever claim anything from Dorsey?" "No." "Did you ever write to him?" "No." "Did you ever say anything to anybody that you had any claim against Dorsey?" "No." You saw Mr. Moore, gentlemen, here upon the stand. Do you think he is the kind of man who would let such a chance slip? It is for you to judge. In my judgment that is the eternal end of Moore's testimony. We can call him buried. We can put the sod over his grave. We can raise a stone to the memory of A. W. Moore. Let him rest in peace, or to use the initials only, let him R. I. P. That is the end of him. If the Government wishes to dig up the corpse hereafter let them dig.

Mr. Ker. I would like--

Mr. Ingersoll. [Interposing.] I don't want to hear from you.

The Court. You do not know what he is going to say.

Mr. Ingersoll. He may be intending to make a motion that the jury be instructed to find a verdict of not guilty.

Mr. Ker. As Mr. Merrick will have to answer, he simply wants to know the page.

Mr. Ingersoll. If Mr. Merrick wants to know the page he shall have the page, or anybody that wishes to answer. If counsel had simply asked me for the page, without getting up in such a solemn manner, I would have told him.

On page 1406, Mr. Moore says that he went to Dorsey and got the money, and that then Dorsey requested him to telegraph to The Dalles, and that he did not see Dorsey after he got the answer to his dispatch, I think, for two or three days. He reached Washington, he says, about the 11th. On page 1372, he speaks of telegraphing to The Dalles by instructions from Dorsey.

Now, gentlemen, I am going to call your attention for a little while to another witness, Mr. Rerdell. And in the commencement, I need not refresh your minds with regard to the part he has played. I need not, in the first instance, tell you about his affidavit of June, 1881, nor his affidavit of July 13, 1882, nor his pencil memorandum, nor his Chico letter, nor his offer to pack the jury on behalf of the Government, nor the signals he had agreed upon, nor the reports he made from day to day, nor the affidavit of September that he made for the Government, nor of November nor of February. All these things you remember and remember perfectly. I will speak of them as I reach them, but I want you to keep in your minds who he is.

I need not call any names. Epithets would glance from his reputation like bird-shot from the turret of a monitor. The worst thing I can say about him is to call him Mr. Rerdell. All epithets become meaningless in comparison. The worst thing I can say after that would have the taint of flattery in it. You will remember when Enobarbus was speaking to Agrippa about Caesar, he says, "Would you praise Caesar, say Caesar. Go no further." And I can say, "If you wish to abuse this witness, say Mr. Rerdell. Go no further." That is as far as I shall go.

You will remember that Mr. Rerdell was in the employ of Stephen W. Dorsey, and had been for several years. He does not pretend that he was ever badly used; he does not say before you that Mr. Dorsey ever did to him an unkind act, ever said an unkind word. In all the record of the years that he was with him he finds no page blotted with an unjust act, not one. He has no complaint to make. Under those circumstances he voluntarily goes to see a man by the name of Clayton, I think an ex-Senator from Arkansas, known to him at that time to be an enemy of Stephen W. Dorsey, an enemy of his employer, an enemy of his friend--his friend, whose bread this witness had eaten for years, whose roof had protected him, who had trusted and treated him like a human being. Yet he goes to this man Clayton, and he says, in substance, "I want to sell out my friend to the Government." He was not actuated exactly by patriotism, although he says he was. The promptings of virtue may have started him, but after he got started he said to himself, "I do not see that it hurts virtue to be rewarded." So he said, "I want some pay for this; I want a steamboat route reinstated; I want the Jennings claim allowed. Of course I am disinterested in what I am doing, but I might as well have something, if it is going." "What else do you want?" The disinterested patriot suggested that he would like to have a clerkship for his father-in-law. "Anything else?" If you will read his letter of July 5, 1882, which I will read to you before I get through, you will see that he says, "If I had remained with the Government I have every reason to believe I would have had a good position by this time." So he must have demanded a clerkship for himself--good, honest man. At that time he did not know, but swore it afterwards and swore it here upon the stand, that Dorsey had never done anything wrong; and yet he was willing to sell him to the Government, believing that he had never done anything wrong. So he went and saw the Postmaster-General. The Postmaster-General did not appear to take any great interest in the matter. He turned him over to the Attorney-General. He showed the Postmaster-General what he had, and read him, I believe, or showed him some memoranda. Then he went and saw the Attorney-General. The Postmaster-General did not seem to give him encouragement. Then when he went to see MacVeagh he took with him a letter-book--I do not know but more than one--but we will say a letter-book. Now, what was in that letter-book? And, gentlemen, the only way to find whether a man tells the truth is to take all the circumstances into consideration. What did he want to do? What was his object? And what were the means at his command? For instance, it is said that a man left his house with the intention of murdering another, and that he had on his table a loaded revolver, and also had on his table a small walking-stick, and he took with him the walking-stick. You would say he did not intend to commit the murder; that if he had so intended he would have taken the deadly weapon. In other words, you must believe that men, acting for the accomplishment of a certain object, use the natural means within their power.

Now, what did he have in that letter-book? He swears now that in that letter-book there was a copy of a letter from Stephen W. Dorsey to James W. Bosler; that the original letter was written by Stephen W. Dorsey. That press-copy, of course, would show that the original letter was in the handwriting of S. W. Dorsey. What does he swear was in that letter? He swears that Dorsey made a proposition to Bosler to go into the business; told him the profits, and told him that he had to give thirty-three and one-third per cent, to T. J. B.; that he had already paid him, I think, twenty thousand dollars, and had more to pay him. According to the testimony of Mr. Rerdell, that was in the letter-book that he took to Mr. MacVeagh. Now, recollect that. Why did he not show it? He had forgotten it. He showed him what he had. Recollect now, that he had a tabular statement. I think the letter showed so much money to T. J. B., and the tabular statement thirty-three and one-third per cent, to T. J. B. He had that tabular statement, and that was in Dorsey's handwriting. He says he had it. Well, after that, the Attorney-General must have told him, "That is not enough; I want some more." "Well," he says, "I can let you have some more." "What more can you let us have?" Well, then he told him about the red books; I do not know that he said they were red, but he told him about the books and that those books were in New York, and he would go over there and get them; that he was going to steal them; he says he went over to get them, and afterwards admitted, I believe that lie was stealing them.

Now, we must remember the position Rerdell was in. He had been to Clayton, to the Postmaster-General in company with Mr. Woodward, and to the Attorney-General in company with Mr. Woodward, and yet there was not enough. Well, it was all he had. What more could he do? He suddenly found himself caught in his own trap. He had furnished enough to trouble him, but not enough to convict Dorsey, and not enough to be promised immunity. Now, what had he to do? He did exactly as he did with Mr. Woodward in September, when he made that affidavit, and when Woodward said it was not enough; he said, "Very well, I will make another," the same as he did when he made the affidavit of seventy pages in November and found it was a little weak. He made another, and he would have made them right along. He had a factory running night and day. Now, he tells you that while he was talking with MacVeagh, just towards the last of the conversation, the idea flashed into his brain that he might save Dorsey too. Don't you remember that testimony? And as quick as he thought of that, he agreed to go to New York and steal the books. The very last thing that MacVeagh said to him, according to MacVeagh's testimony, and I believe according to his own, was to be sure and get the books; that they were all important. So he went, as he claims. Now, did it occur to him that he would save Dorsey in that way? Did he think of saving Dorsey by going and getting these books? That was the last thing, and he was going to get the books to be used as evidence against Dorsey.

In a few days he says he started for New York, and the question arises, why did Rerdell go to New York at all? Why did he want to see that the books were in New York? Why did he pretend that he had any more evidence unless he had it? You see you have got to get at the philosophy of this man; you have got to find what actuated him; and although in many respects he is abnormal, unnatural, monstrous, and morally deformed, still it may be that we can find the philosophy upon which he acted. Why did he say he was going to New York? Because the Attorney-General told him--he must have told him--that the evidence he then had was not sufficient. Rerdell could not break down right there and say, "That is all I have got." That would give up the fight; that would tell him that he had endeavored to sell out his friend and nobody would buy the evidence; that would tell him that he had tried this and had failed; that he had simply succeeded in showing his own treachery without involving his friend. He could not stop there. You must recollect the evidence he had, and the evidence he wanted.

Let us see what he had. Mr. Bliss says, "Why did he say the books were in New York? Why did he not say they were in Washington?" That would not have given him time, gentlemen. He would have been told, "Go and get them." Then he could not have produced them. Consequently he put them in the possession of somebody else, so that if he failed to get them, then he could say that the other man destroyed them or had hid them; he could have said, "I have done my best; they did exist, but they have been destroyed, or they have been hidden, or they have been put out of the way." He wanted time, and knowing that no such books existed, he could not say, "I have them in Washington," because then he could give no excuse for their non-production. He must state it in such a way that he could reasonably fail; that is to say, that he could give a reason for his failure. He could not say, "I have them in my house," because he would have been told to go and get them. So he put them in the possession of another man, so that, failing to get them, as fail he must, he could give a reasonable excuse for the failure.

Why did he go to New York? I will tell you what my philosophy is: He found that the Government did not wish to purchase the evidence that he had. He found that, in the judgment of the expert of the Department of Justice, it was not sufficient. The next thing was to retrace his steps. He did not want to jump off of one boat into the sea and find no other boat to rescue him. He said: "I have been too hasty; I will go to New York." Why? To find out whether Dorsey had heard of this or not. That is what he went there for. The inferior man always imagines that the superior knows what he is doing, and knows what he has done. He found that he was about to fail with the Government, and then the important question to him was: Has Dorsey found this out? Can I go back to Dorsey? Or must I go on and be cast away by him and be refused by the Government?

Now let me call another thing to your minds. I will come to it again, but it forces itself upon me at this place, and it seems to me it ought to be absolutely conclusive.

He swears that on the day after he went to MacVeagh with that letter-book, in looking it over he found the press-copy of the original letter that Dorsey wrote to Bosler on the 13th of July, 1879. says that the next day he found that copy in that copy-book. Why did he not steal the book? Conscientious scruples, gentlemen! You see he was going to New York to steal another. Why not steal one that he already had possession of? And how much better that book would have been than the other that he was going to get. This was a copy of a letter in Dorsey's handwriting, in which he admitted that he had paid twenty thousand dollars to T. J. B., and was going to pay him some more, while that book in New York was not in Dorsey's handwriting--admitting, for the sake of the argument, that there was a book--but was in the handwriting of Donnelly or Rerdell. See? And right there he had the evidence, absolutely conclusive, in the handwriting of S. W. Dorsey himself, and he did not even keep it, he did not even steal it, but he gave it back and went to New York to steal a book that Dorsey did not write. He threw away primary evidence to get secondary evidence. He threw away that which would have convicted Dorsey beyond a doubt, which would have made him a welcome recruit to the Government. He threw that away and went to New York to get another, a line of which Dorsey never wrote; and then he would have to establish, after he got that book, that "William Smith" stood for Thomas J. Brady; he would have to prove after they got that book that "John Smith" or "Samuel Jones" stood for Turner. Now, gentlemen, do you believe that that man, with his ideas of honor, with the kind of a conscience he has in his bosom, with the copy of a letter in Dorsey's handwriting in his possession admitting that Dorsey gave twenty thousand dollars to T. J. B., would give that up and then go to the city of New York to steal a book not in Dorsey's handwriting, and that did not prove that Dorsey had ever paid a cent to Thomas J. Brady, in which there was one charge to "William Smith," and that would have to be eked out by the testimony of Rerdell himself, when he had right there in his own grasp and clutch the press-copy of the original letter written by Dorsey himself? Do you believe it? There is not a man on that jury believes it; there is not a lawyer prosecuting this case who believes it.

What else did he have? He had a letter that he himself, as he claims, wrote to Bosler on the 22d of May, 1880, after he, Rerdell, had been summoned to appear before a committee of Congress. He had, he says, those three sheets.

What else did he have the morning after he was talking with MacVeagh? He had the tabular statement in the handwriting of Stephen W. Dorsey, and over the Brady column, "T. J. B., thirty-three and one-third per cent."

What more did that man have? He had the balance-sheets made out, as he swears, by Donnelly, of those books. Were the balance-sheets just as good as the books?

Now, just think what he had, according to his own testimony: A copy of the original letter, written by Dorsey to Bosler, in which he admitted his guilt; a copy of the tabular statement, written by Dorsey, in which he put down thirty-three and one-third per cent, to T. J. B. What more? Copy of the letter that he had written to Bosler on the 22d of May, 1880. He had all that, and he must have had this memorandum, though I will show you that he had not, and I think I will show you when he made it. And yet he was going to New York to get some more evidence. He was going to steal another book in New York that would simply create a suspicion, while he gave up a book that was absolute certainty. That is the theory. But they say, "Oh, he did not do that quite." What did he do? He went and had that copied. He swears that he had copied that letter of May 13, 1879, that Dorsey wrote to Bosler, in which he admitted that he gave twenty thousand dollars to Brady. Now, a copy would not show in whose handwriting the press-copy was, would it? That is a very important point. Who copied it? I think he said Miss Nettie L. White copied it. We never hear of Miss Nettie L. White again, though. These gentlemen admit that you are not to believe Mr. Rerdell on any point that is not corroborated, and when he swears that Miss Nettie L. White copied the letter you are not bound to believe there was such a letter unless they bring Miss White or account for her absence. They did not bring her. That is an extremely important point in their case, infinitely more important than whether the red books ever existed. Did Dorsey write a letter to Bosler in which he admitted his guilt? This man says that he had complete and perfect evidence of it in his own hand; that he gave that up; that he had that copied by Miss White. And they did not bring Miss White. Certainly he had no scruples about tearing it out. He says he tore out his letter to Bosler of the 22d of May, 1880. He had no scruples about that. He did not refuse to keep the book because it touched his honor, because in a day or two he was going to steal another not half as good as that one, not one-tenth part as good. Just think. He gave up evidence that was absolute and complete, and went to steal evidence that was secondary and of the poorest character. You do not believe it. He would have kept that book if he had kept any. If he was going to steal any evidence, and had the best, he would have kept it. The trouble was that there was no such letter in that book. There was his letter of May 22, 1880; no doubt about that; and that man tore it out, and then he made up one in his own mind, and had it of that date; that is all.

So he went to New York, and he swears that he went right up to the Albemarle Hotel; that it was early in the morning; that Dorsey was not then up; and that he had a conversation with Dorsey, in which Dorsey charged him with having had something to do with the Government, with having gone over to the Government. Dorsey had heard that there was something going on about that time, and I suppose he asked Mr. Rerdell about it. Rerdell denied it; said there was no truth in it; that nothing of the kind, character, or sort had ever happened.

Now let us just see whether I can demonstrate to you that Rerdell, in the conversation he had with Dorsey at the Albemarle Hotel, denied that he had gone over to the Government, or that he had done anything that was not perfectly honest, straightforward, and upright. I refer to it now, although I may come to it again.

And, gentlemen, I am sorry for you; I pity every one of you, that you have to hear all that has to be said in this case. But you must put yourselves, for the moment, in our places. You must remember that these defendants have borne this agony, have been roofed and surrounded with disorder for two years. You must remember that the agents of the Government have pursued them, they have watched over them and spied them night and day. You must remember that they have been slandered for years in the public press, although the tone of the public press is now changing, and changing in such a marked degree that one of the attorneys here for the prosecution claimed that we had bought up the correspondents. When you take into consideration what my clients have suffered, the position they are now in, fighting this great and powerful Government, I know you will excuse us for inflicting upon you every thought and every argument that we think may be for our defence.

I am doing for my clients what I would do for you, or any of you, if you were defendants, and I am doing for them what I would want them to do for me were I a defendant and they my counsel.

Now I am going to demonstrate this. When Mr. Rerdell got to Jersey City he telegraphed back, according to the evidence of Mr. Dorsey:

Up to this moment I have been faithful to every trust.