The Saintsbury Affair

by Lily A. Long

According to the high-flown account, Barker had left at the Samovar office, on the night on which he was killed, a large sealed envelope addressed to himself, with the added direction:

"If this is not called for within five days, it is to be opened by the Managing Editor of the Samovar."

It would appear that this was the errand that was occupying Barker while I sat waiting for him in his office! I could not refrain from pausing to admire the rascal's cleverness. He was anticipating--not the death which came so swiftly, but--a visit from Clyde, or possibly Clyde's representative, and he had adroitly made it impossible for Clyde to control the situation by force or coercion. The story was written out and in the hands of the paper which would most gladly profit by the disclosure, though it was still, for five days, subject to Barker's own recall, if he were properly treated! It certainly was a reserve of the most unquestionable value in diplomatic negotiations.

The Samovar went on to say that after the sensation of Barker's death, the envelope had been held inviolate for the specified time, and had then been opened by Burleigh in the presence of witnesses.

The story as written by Barker was then set forth in full. It recited briefly that Barker had been present at a court trial in Houston, Texas, some fifteen years before, at which one Tom Johnson had been convicted of the murder of a man named Henley, and sentenced to death. The prisoner had escaped from the sheriff immediately after conviction, and had never been captured. Then Mr. Barker proceeded:

"Two or three years ago I saw Mr. Kenneth Clyde in Saintsbury, and greatly to my surprise, I recognized in him the missing Tom Johnson. I charged him with the identity, and he did not deny it. He then and afterwards freely admitted to me that he was the man who, under another name, had been convicted of murder and had made his escape. I have refrained from making this information public out of consideration for Mr. Clyde, but I feel it a public duty to leave this record where, if certain contingencies should arise, it may be found."

(The contingency which the writer had in mind was probably a refusal on the part of Clyde to continue paying blackmail. That would undoubtedly have made Mr. Barker's public duty weigh upon his tender conscience.)

The Samovar then went on to say that the story at first seemed incredible, and therefore the witnesses were all sworn to secrecy until the matter could be investigated. A special representative had been sent to Texas to look it up. The writer then modestly emphasized the difficulties of the undertaking, and his own astonishing cleverness in mastering them. He had actually found the court records to establish the tale of the late lamented Mr. Barker, whose untimely taking off with this public service still unperformed would have been nothing less (under the present political circumstances) than a civic calamity. Tom Johnson had been convicted of the treacherous and bloody murder of his friend. (The details were then given in substantial agreement with the story which Clyde had told me.)

"But who," the happy historian went on to say, "who would have guessed, who would have dared suggest, who would have ventured to believe, that this obscure criminal, snatching the stolen cloak of freedom from the heedless hands of careless officials, and skulking off with it by the underground passages known to the criminal classes,--who would have believed that this false friend, this wretch, this felon, was none other than the Reform Candidate for Mayor of Saintsbury? The charge is so incredible that we may well be asked,--Where lies the proof of identity, beyond the word of Alfred Barker, now cold in death? The man who so long had successfully covered up his past, may well have felt, when Barker met his tragic fate, that at last he could walk in security, since the one witness who, in a period of fifteen years, had identified him, was now disposed of. But murder will out. The truth, though crushed to earth, will live again. The sun in the heavens has been summoned as a witness. While Tom Johnson was in jail, awaiting trial, an enterprising paper of the place secured several photographs of the prisoner. These our representative found in an old file of the paper. We reproduce below, side by side, the photographs of Tom Johnson, lying under an unexecuted sentence for murder, and of Kenneth Clyde, reform candidate for mayor. They speak for themselves."

They did, indeed. It was like a blow in the face to see the pictures side by side, even in the coarse newspaper print. The handsome, defiant face of the younger man had been softened and refined and had grown thoughtful,--but it was the same face. If Clyde had wanted to deny the accusation (though I knew that he would not think for a moment of that course,) it would have been fruitless. The photographs made it impossible.