"Would you care for it?" she asked courteously.
"I would be glad to have it," she said as she took it, returned to the bed, and once again therein, turned to read the news. It was but a moment before she started up quickly as she read:
STRANGE MURDER CASE ON VERNON AVENUE
Negro Minister and His Daughter Found Murdered about Midnight
JEAN BAPTISTE, WHO HAD LOST SUIT AGAINST PREACHER, ARRESTED AND HELD WITHOUT BAIL AS SUSPECT. WAS MET LEAVING THE HOUSE JUST BEFORE DISCOVERY OF THE MURDER.
Jean Baptiste, Negro author and rancher is under arrest at the county jail this morning, accused of the murder of his wife and father-in-law, the Reverend N.J. McCarthy, at 3—— Vernon Avenue. The dead bodies of the preacher and his daughter were discovered shortly after midnight last night by his daughter Ethel and her husband, upon his return from State Street where he had seen Baptiste leave the Keystone saloon a few minutes after twelve.
The murder appears to be the sequence of a long enmity between the preacher and his son-in-law, Baptiste. Some years ago Baptiste had the preacher's daughter take a homestead in the West, on which he had purchased a relinquishment for her. Some months later they were married and went to live on the claim he had secured. It seems that bad blood existed between the preacher and Baptiste, and some time after the marriage the preacher went on a trip West and when he returned brought his daughter back with him. It is said that the rancher visited Chicago several times following in an effort to persuade her to return. About a year ago, the daughter sold a relinquishment on the homestead and Baptiste accused the preacher of having influenced her to do so. He also accused him of other things that contributed to the separation, and finally sued the minister in the circuit court of Cook County for ten thousand dollars for alienating his wife's affections. The case was brought up, tried, and, yesterday, the minister was adjudged not guilty by the jury. The rancher and author made a strong case against the minister, and it was the consensus of opinion in the court room that the minister was guilty. But it was his daughter's alibi that saved him: she testified that she did not and never had loved her husband, and because the plaintiff was unable to prove conclusively that she had, the jury's verdict was "not guilty."
E.M. Glavis, also a son-in-law of the dead man, testified and was corroborated by another, a minister, that just as he turned into his yard last night, he met Jean Baptiste coming out. He moreover claims, that a few days before the trial, he tried to dissuade Baptiste from going through with the case, and to settle it out of court. But that Baptiste refused to consider it; that he showed his bitterness toward the now dead man, by declaring that if he hadn't wished to observe and subserve to the law, he would have killed the preacher long ago.
It is therefore the consensus of opinion that Baptiste, disappointed by losing the suit, entered the house and murdered his wife and father-in-law while they slept. The circumstantial evidence is strong, and it looks rather bad for the author. Only one phase of the case seems to puzzle the police, however, and that is that the preacher and his daughter were found dead in the same room, the room which the minister occupied. Both had been stabbed with a knife that had long been in that same room. The minister's body lay in bed as if he had been murdered while he was sleeping, while that of the daughter lay near the door. It is the opinion also of those who feel Baptiste guilty, that he entered the house and went to the preacher's room, and there killed him while he lay sleeping; and that the daughter, who was sleeping downstairs near her mother, was possibly aroused by the noise, went up to the room, and was murdered as the intruder was about to leave.
Baptiste refused to make any comment further than that he was innocent.
"Accused of murder!" Agnes echoed, staring before her in much excitement. "Jean Baptiste accused of murder!" She read the account again. She arose and stood on the floor. "He is innocent, he is innocent!" she cried to herself. "Jean Baptiste would not commit murder, no, no, no! No, not even if he was justified in doing so." Suddenly she seized her clothes, and in the next instant was getting hurriedly into them.
She completed her toilet quickly, opened the door and slipped down the stairs. The maid was at work in the hall, and she approached her, and said:
"Will you kindly advise the lady of the house that I have gone downtown on some very urgent business. That I shall return later in the day?"
She stepped outside, crossed to State Street, inquired of an officer the way to the county jail, and a few minutes later boarded a car for the north side.
She had no plans as to what she would or could do, but she was going to him. All that he had been to her in the past had arisen the instant she saw that he was in trouble. Especially did she recall his having saved them from foreclosure and disgrace years before. She was determined. She was going to him, he was innocent, she was positive, and she would do all in her power to save him.
It was rather awkward, going to a place she had never dreamed of going to, the county jail, but she shook this resolutely from her mind, and a few minutes following her arrival, there she stood before the bailiff.
"I am a friend of a man who was arrested in connection with a murder last night," she explained to the officer. "And—ah, would it be possible for me to see and consult with him?"