How does that work with you? James R. Eddy here—his deposition here—and they could not read his deposition because he was here—and they had him here and kept him here, so that we could not read his deposition. They were bound that he should not go on the stand. Why? Because the moment he got there he could be asked, Where did you find the will? Who was present when you found it? When did you first tell anybody about it? When did you first show it to John A. Davis? How much did he agree to give you for it? What witnesses have you talked to in this case? What witnesses have you written to in this case? What work have you done in this case? What affidavits have you made in this case? And what have you done with the other three wills that you have in this case?
Such questions might be asked him, and they were afraid to put him on the stand. Every letter that he had written would have been identified by him if he had been put on the stand. Maybe he would have been compelled to write in the presence of the jury, to see whether he would spell words correctly.
They knew that the moment he went on the stand their case was as dead as Julius Cæsar. They knew it and kept him off.
Now, there is only one way for them to win this case. And that is to keep out the evidence. Only one way to win the case—suppress John A. Davis. Keep your mouth closed or defeat will leap out of it. Eddy, keep still. Don't let anything be seen that will throw any light upon this. I ask you, gentlemen of the jury, to take cognizance of what has been done in this case. Who is it that has tried to get the light? Who is it that has tried to get the evidence? Who is it that has objected? Who is it that wants you to try this case in the dark? Who is it that wants you to guess on your oaths? The failure of Eddy to testify is a confession of guilt. They dare not put him on the stand—dare not.
Now, gentlemen, there is a little more evidence in this case to which I am going to call your attention. Something has been said about a conversation in March, 1891. Sconce had his deposition taken in Bloomfield, Iowa. That deposition has been suppressed. John A. Davis was there at the time it was taken. John A. Davis and Sconce went into the passage leading up to the office of Carruthers. Mr. Burchett, sheriff of the county, a man having no possible earthly or heavenly interest in this business, happened to stop at the corner to read his paper—looked at it as he opened it—and he then and there heard John A. Davis say, "Stick to that story and I will see that you get all the money you have been promised," and thereupon Sconce replied, "All right I'll do it." Sconce denies it, and that denial is not worth the breath that he wasted in forming the denial. John A. Davis denies it. Of course he denies it. But he dare not tell where he got that will. He dare not do it. He wants you to do that for him. He wants you to lift him out of the gutter and wash the mud off him. He is afraid to do it himself.
I want to call your attention to that conversation, and that of itself is enough to impeach Sconce. That is enough of itself to show that John A. Davis was entering into a conspiracy or rather had entered into one with Mr. Sconce. Now, gentlemen, there is another thing, and we must not forget it. Curious people down in Salt Creek township, on the other side; of course there are plenty of good men there or the township could not exist, and we had a good many of them here—good, straight, honest, intelligent looking men. But the other side had some—all in the family—all of them.
Swaim, he was not in the family, but he is a clerk in Trimble's bank, where Wallace is the cashier, where they suppress depositions; say they are not finished when they are signed by the person who swears to them.
John C. Sconce, the only living witness, whose "ancient but ignoble blood has crept through rascals ever since the flood," cousin to James Davis, cousin to Job Davis, cousin to Mrs. Downey, cousin to Eddy, cousin to Dr. Downey by marriage, brother to T. J. Sconce, Jr., brother-in-law to Abe Wilkinson, cousin to Tom Glasgow and Sam, cousin to Moses Davis, cousin to Alex. Davis, uncle to Henshaw's daughter, and father-in-law of George Quigley. Every one of them united. Blood is thicker than water. Eddy stuck to his family.
James R. Eddy—cousin to Sconce, son of Mrs. Downey, (Mrs. Downey, the duster lady, who remembers that Davis asked her to remain, but didn't ask her advice, didn't have her sign the will, didn't give her any bequest, but there she was with her duster), grandson of James Davis, nephew of Job Davis, and related by blood or marriage to both the Glasgows, Moses and Alexander Davis, to T. J. Scotice and J. C. Sconce, Jr., Abe Wilkinson, George Quigley, S M. Henshaw, (the celebrated lawyer). J. L. Hughes, and Eli Dye, brother-in-law to C. O. Hughes, and foster brother to John Lisle, and Mrs. A. S. Bishop. And it is just lovely about John Lisle.
John Lisle is one of the fellows that saw this will. "How did you come to see it, John?" "James Davis," he says, "was my guardian and he had to give a bond, and so one day when James Davis was away from home, I thought I would go and see the bond."