The Rose in the Ring

by George Barr McCutcheon

As for the story of Frank Jenison's death, it was, according to the newspaper, "so strange that fiction paled by contrast." Jenison and his negro accomplice, Isaac Perry, had quarreled in one of the private card-rooms at Brainard's place in Richmond, where they had met by appointment. The negro, driven desperate and in great fear of the white man, finally drew a revolver and began firing wildly at his employer, who returned the shots. Perry was killed by a bullet which found his heart. One of the negro's shots, however, had penetrated the abdomen of Frank Jenison. He was mortally wounded. On being informed by the surgeons that he had but a few hours to live, the miserable wretch directed that his confession be written out at his dictation, that he might put his signature to it and thereby set his unhappy nephew straight in the eyes of a condemning world.

The full text of this confession was printed. The reader of this tale has heard enough of it, in one way or another, to determine for himself the chief facts in connection with the murder of old Mr. Jenison. It was Frank Jenison who shot him, deliberately laying his plans so as to direct suspicion to David. The nephew played into his hands in a most startling manner. A more convincing set of circumstances could not have been imagined, much less prepared.

Isaac Perry was the first to propose the plan of substituting a forged will, but at the time neither of them contemplated the assassination of the old gentleman. It was not until it became known to them that Mr. Jenison intended to deed over a great part of his estate to David before his own death that they saw the necessity for hastening the end. The will was prepared in Perry's room at Richmond. The names of the witnesses belonged to men who were dead and could not repudiate the signatures. Then came the signing of the quitclaim deed which provided an opportunity to substitute the will, and which, as far as Isaac Perry was concerned, was a bona fide transaction. The little plot of ground was in truth a portion of his own compensation exacted in advance of the murder.

Perry was to have done the shooting. At the last minute his nerve failed him. Frank Jenison then coolly directed his henchman to stand guard while he committed the diabolical deed. To use his dying words, his father "was ready to die anyway, so it was a kindness to end life suddenly for him."

We know how David walked into the trap, and how he crept out of it only to become an outlaw, hunted and execrated. Perry went to Chicago, where he was to remain for a few months before coming back to receive his promised share of the money which Jenison was to realize on the sale of certain properties as soon as he was clearly established as heir to the estate.

Remorse began to gnaw at the heart of the murderer. He could not sleep without dreaming of his slain father, nor could he spend a waking hour that was free from thoughts of the innocent boy who would be hanged if the law laid its hands upon him.

Then, one day, there came a stranger who told him of Isaac Perry's treachery. The thing he feared had come to pass—Perry's defection. He made up his mind to kill this dreaded stranger, and to follow that deed with another of the same sort which would deliver him of Isaac Perry. But the stranger disappeared. He did not come to claim his blood money. The terror which fell upon Frank Jenison was overpowering. He sent for Isaac Perry, hoping against hope that the stranger had lied and that with the negro's support he could defy him. Perry came to Richmond, expecting to receive his promised reward in coin of the realm. The half-crazed white man accused him of treachery. The negro lawyer vehemently denied every allegation, but, becoming alarmed by the other's manner, fell into a panic of fear and began shooting.

At the end of his confession, Frank Jenison said:

"My soul is black. It is already charred by the fires of hell. I was a traitor to our beloved cause, although acquitted of the charge by fraud and deception. I killed my own father. I would have killed others. My nephew has long borne the stain of guilt that is going with me to a dishonored grave. I go with the brand of Cain on my soul. There will be no rest for me in the hereafter. I have not the courage to ask God to be merciful. But I believe in God. I have tried not to believe in him. I have denied him all my life. To-day, for the first time in memory, I can say—and it is with my last breath—I can say that I thank God for one great act of mercy. He has permitted me to live long enough, with this bullet in me, to say to the world that my nephew, David Jenison, is as innocent as I am guilty."

"Well," said Grinaldi the clown, his voice doleful in contrast to the cheery smile he assumed, when it came time for all to go to the cook-tent for dinner, "I dessay we'll 'ave to stop calling you Jack Snipe. Wot's more, David, you'll be going back to Virginia at once and settling down to be a genuine gentleman. Afore you think of going, my lad, let it be fully impressed in your 'eart that we all love you and we all wish you the greatest 'appiness in the world. You 'ave been a very poor clown, but I dessay 't is more the fault of your bringing up than anything else. A clown 'as to be born, David, just the same as any other genius. I suppose it's too soon yet to talk about your plans—wot you intend to do fust."