Thus the long, expensive and arduous struggle came finally to an end, for Judge Burns in due course, ordered that Charles F. Dodge should be conveyed to New York in the personal custody of the United States Marshal and delivered by him to the New York authorities “within the borders of that State.” Such an order was, of course, exceedingly unusual, if not almost unheard of, but it was rendered absolutely necessary by the powerful influence and resources, as well as the unscrupulous character, of those interested in securing Dodge’s disappearance.
In order to thwart any plans for releasing the prisoner by violence or otherwise, and to prevent delay through the invoking of legal technicalities, Hansen and Jesse decided to convey Dodge to New York by water, and on the 16th of December, the Marshal and his five deputies boarded a Mallory Line steamer at Galveston and arrived in New York with their prisoner on the evening of December 23d.
Dodge reached New York a physical wreck. How he was induced to tell the whole truth after he had pleaded guilty to the charge against him is a story in itself. A complete reaction from his dissipation now occurred and for days his life was despaired of. Jesse, too, was, as the expression is, “all in,” and the only persons who were still able to appreciate the delights of New York were the stalwart Marshal and his boys, who for some time were objects of interest as they strolled along Broadway and drank “deep and hearty” in the cafes. To the assistants in the District Attorney’s office they were heroes and were treated as such.
How Dodge finally testified against Hummel on the witness stand has already been told. As they say down-town, if Jerome had never done anything else, he would have “made good” by locking up Abe Hummel. No one ever believed he would do it. But Jerome never would have locked up Hummel without Jesse. And, as Jesse says with a laugh, leaning back in his chair and taking a long pull on his cigar, “I guess I would not do it again—no, I would not do it again for all the money you could give me. The wonder is that I came out of it alive.” When the reader comes to think about it he will probably agree with him.
XI
A Case of Circumstantial Evidence
In the town of Culiano, in the province of Salano, in Italy, there dwelt a widow by the name of Torsielli, with her two sons, Vito and Antonio. The boys loved their mother devotedly and were no less fond of each other, the height of their ambition being to earn enough money to support her in comfort without need of working in her old age. As it was, she arose before light, made the fire, cooked their breakfast and labored in and about the house all day until they returned from the fields. But she was getting old and at last became bedridden and infirm. She could no longer cook the meals, and the boys had to shift for themselves. Moreover, instead of