Now, let us follow Mr. Rerdell from the Albemarle Hotel.
I will show that he crosses himself on almost every fact that he endeavors to swear to. He swears that he went to Dorsey's; that from Dorsey's he went immediately to Tor-rey's office; that he then went and got lunch and then went to Jersey City. He also swears that he got his breakfast before he went to Dorsey's. In the next examination he swears that he got his breakfast after he went to Dorsey's, and after he got the book he went to Jersey City, first walking up and down Broadway for about an hour. He had forgotten about the lunch. There is nothing in it but a mass of contradiction. He swears that he went down to Torrey's office. Why did he not make it earlier, as soon as he got off the boat? Because he did not have any key to the office. It would not do to swear that he broke into the office and that nobody ever heard of it, and so he had to put the time after the office would naturally be open. Well, now we have got him as far as the office. He swears that he went in there and saw Mr. Torrey. After chatting a little with Torrey, and telling him the object of his visit, Torrey took him into the next room and took these books from a shelf or desk, or something of that kind, and handed them both to him, and he looked them over at his leisure, while Mr. Torrey went back to his business. He finally took the journal and left the ledger. Why did he leave the ledger? I will tell you after a while. Every lie, as well as every truth, has its philosophy. He took the journal and came along out with it under his arm, not wrapped up, not concealed. Then he had another chat with Torrey about the weather or something, and then he went on. Why did he swear that he had a conversation with Torrey in that office? I will tell you. When he was giving that testimony, Torrey was in mid-ocean, between New York and Liverpool. I guess Mr. Rerdell had heard that the man was away. He thought he would be absolutely and perfectly safe, and so he said he had a conversation with Torrey. The moment he repeated that conversation with Torrey, I said, "Where is Torrey?" We telegraphed to New York and we found that Torrey had left for the old country. We sent a cablegram to Queenstown and we intercepted him. I think he staid a day in the old country, and took the next ship and came back, arriving here in time to swear that Rerdell never visited that office, that he never had that conversation with him, and that he never got that book from that office; more than that, that that book never was in that office. Who are you going to believe, Torrey or Rerdell?
Another man was there on that very day, Mr. Mullins. He never had any recollection of seeing Rerdell until he saw him here. All the books were kept in the safe except the books that Torrey had in his desk. No such books were in the safe and no such books were in Torrey's desk. Gentlemen, no such books existed, and I will demonstrate it to you before I get through. No doubt the man had some little expense-books of his own. He has widened them, he has lengthened them, he has thickened them, he has colored them. He has refreshed other people. When the Government tells a man, "You have got an office, haven't you?" "Yes." "Well, we want you to remember this." Then he is refreshed on the subject. The words the Government speaks are rain and dew and sunlight upon the dry grass of his memory and it springs up green. He says he has been refreshed. Before I get through I will show you that these things were proved only by gentlemen who had been refreshed.
Now, why did Rerdell say he took the journal and left the ledger? I will tell you. There is more in the shirt theory than you would think. He had a shirt in a paper, folded up just once over the bosom. Unexpectedly lie met Mr. James on the train. He was very much surprised to meet him, because James swears he was very much surprised to meet Rerdell. James knew that he had gone over to New York to get those books, and he asked him, "Did you get the books?" Rerdell had that beggarly little package. He could not call that "books," because it was not large enough, and so he had to say he had a book. That was the reason he said journal and not ledger. He had too small a package for "books," and consequently he told James he had the "book," and he is sticking to it; only one book. Another reason: He said to James, and it was very smart of him, "I don't want to show you what I have got in this package, because there is a fellow looking," and so the shirt, in unconscious innocence, reposed unseen. Who was the fellow who was looking? Chase Andrews. You recollect him. He came into the depot at Jersey City at the time Rerdell was writing this virtuous dispatch, this certificate of his honor and of his faithfulness. He shook hands with Rerdell. Rerdell said he had a carpet-sack, but it was not big enough to get one of these books in. He wanted the jury to think it was a pretty big book. He hated to lose a chance of adding to the size of the book, and so he swore that it was too big to put in the carpet-sack. If he had only had sense enough to put it in the carpet-sack, and let it alone, we never could have proven anything about it by Chase Andrews. Andrews would not have sworn that he looked through the carpet-sack. But Rerdell in his anxiety to have that book a big book said he could not get it into the carpet-sack, and consequently must have held it in his hand. Chase Andrews saw him in the depot at Jersey City, and rode in the next seat in the Pullman car from Jersey City to Washington, and Rerdell had no book. Who will you believe, Chase Andrews or Mr. Rerdell?
Mr. Ingersoll. [Resuming.] May it please the Court and gentlemen of the jury.
It is also claimed by the prosecution that on the evening of the day on which Rerdell was in New York and sent the telegram from Jersey City. Dorsey wrote a letter to Rerdell in which he begged him for the sake of his family, for the sake of his children, and everything to go no further. I believe it is claimed that after Mr. Rerdell got back here to Washington he showed that letter to his brother. It struck me as extremely wonderful that he did not show his brother the book; that was such an important thing, it being the thing that he went after, being something that was to decide his fate with the Government. There was nothing about that. Let me say right here: Suppose his story is true that he told Dorsey that he had been to the Government. Would Dorsey write to that man a letter begging him for God's sake not to go further? Would he not rather have sent some man to see him? He knew at that time that he was utterly dishonest, having received that very afternoon, according to Rerdell's testimony, a telegram from Rerdell, in which Rerdell admitted that he had told a falsehood. Would he then have put himself upon paper? Would he have put himself in the power of that same man? I ask you, because you know there is about as much human nature in one person as in another, on the average, and the only way you can tell what another man will do is by thinking "What would I do under the circumstances?"
I am going to demonstrate to you now with just one point that there were no such books. When Rerdell came to make the affidavit of June 20, 1881, Dorsey knew that Rerdell had talked with MacVeagh, James, and Clayton. He also knew that Rerdell, according to his statement, had promised to go to New York and get the red book. Rerdell swears in the affidavit of June, 1881, that he promised MacVeagh to go to New York and get those books. Dorsey knew at that time whether such books existed or not. If he knew they did exist then he knew that Rerdell went after them. Why did not Dorsey ask Rerdell at the time he made that affidavit, "Did you get a book in New York?" Admitting, for the sake of the argument, that Rerdell's story is true that the books were there and that Dorsey knew it, would not Dorsey have asked him, when he was making the affidavit of June 20, 1881, "Did you get a book in New York? What did you do with it, if you did?" Rerdell swears that Dorsey did not mention that subject; that it was not talked of between them. Why? Because both knew that no such books existed. That is the reason he did not ask him if he got it. He knew that he did not get it. Why? Because the book was not there to be obtained. Can you explain that on any other hypothesis? Dorsey knew at this time, according to the testimony of Rerdell, that Rerdell was dishonest; knew that Rerdell had tried to sell him out to the Government; knew that Rerdell had promised MacVeagh he would go to New York and get those books; knew that Rerdell had been to New York; knew that Rerdell had gotten back, and yet did not ask him, "Did you get a book?" Would he not naturally have said, "I want that book that you got in New York. I want it now." It also appears in evidence that on the very day that Rerdell was in New York and says he was in Torrey's office, Torrey in the afternoon went to the Albemarle Hotel to do some writing for Mr. Dorsey. Is it conceivable that Torrey would not in that conversation have told Dorsey, "Your clerk, Rerdell, came to the office to-day and I gave him the mail book or one of those books"? Not a word. That affidavit was made in June, 1881, and was the affidavit in which Rerdell disclosed what he had done with the Government, and that he had agreed to get that very book, and yet Dorsey did not take interest enough in the matter to ask him if he got a book.
Mr. Merrick. Is there any evidence of the conversation between Torrey and Dorsey?
Mr. Ingersoll. No. The evidence is that Torrey went there that evening. You claim that that was the topic of conversation, and that Dorsey sent dispatches to Rerdell that night and wrote a letter to Rerdell. So, I say, under the circumstances, and with the excitement then prevailing, it is inconceivable that Torrey should not have said, "Your man Rerdell has been at my office to-day, and got one of the books."
I say it is inconceivable that he did not tell him, and therefore Dorsey must have known it had it been a fact, and had it been a fact when Rerdell made the affidavit of 1881, Dorsey would have said, "I want that book. I want the book you stole from my office." He did not even mention it. It was not the subject of conversation. Yet, in that same affidavit, he said that he agreed to go and get it, and in that same affidavit he said that no such book ever existed. He swore to that affidavit from friendship. You see, gentlemen, about how much friendship that man is capable of. He swore for friendship that no such book existed; he now swears that it did. What is that for? You want to consider these things. Nobody asked about that book. The matter drifted along. The summer wore away. Autumn touched the woods with gold. Nobody ever mentioned the book. Winter came. That book was in a little carpet-sack hanging in a woodshed. A magnificent place to secrete property. The snows descended; the winds howled around that woodshed. The carpet-sack hung there with the book in it. Nobody touched it. I think the next year, may be that summer, he wrote or telegraphed to Mrs. Cushman to get the book. It suddenly occurred to him that a woodshed was not a safe place for it. She got a book. She looked into it enough to find out it was about the mail business. She put it away; finally that book was brought from its hiding-place on the 13th of July, 1882, when Rerdell says he handed it over to Dorsey, and there is not one syllable of evidence going to show that it was ever spoken of from the time he visited New York until he brought it to Dorsey, as he claimed, at Willard's Hotel. What made him give it to him? Dorsey was mad. Dorsey threatened that he would have Rerdell arrested for perjury, because Rerdell had sworn that he, Dorsey, was innocent. That is enough to excite the wrath of an ordinary man. Dorsey was then on trial. The first trial was then going on. We were right in the midst of it. The year before that Rerdell had solemnly taken his oath that Dorsey was an innocent man, and here Dorsey was in a court insisting that he was innocent. Yet he threatened to have Rerdell then and there punished for perjury because he had sworn that he was innocent. That frightened Rerdell. I think it was calculated to frighten any man.