DORA McDONALD.

DORA McDONALDDORA McDONALD.

DORA McDONALD.

Webster Guerin Murdered February 21, 1906—The Arrest of Dora McDonald for the Murder by Detective Clifton R. Wooldridge and J. F. Daugherty a Few Minutes After the Tragedy.Spectacular Case—Battle Bitterly Waged.

Webster Guerin Murdered February 21, 1906—The Arrest of Dora McDonald for the Murder by Detective Clifton R. Wooldridge and J. F. Daugherty a Few Minutes After the Tragedy.

Spectacular Case—Battle Bitterly Waged.

Important dates in the trial of Mrs. Dora McDonald:

February 21, 1907—Webster Guerin shot to death in room 703, Omaha Building, where he was closeted with Mrs. Dora McDonald.March 5, 1907—The Coroner's jury returned an open verdict, failing to find Mrs. McDonald responsible for Guerin's death.March 30, 1907—Mrs. McDonald released from the County Jail under bonds of $50,000.August 9, 1907—Michael McDonald died, reconciled to his first wife through the efforts of the church.August 12, 1907—"Mike" McDonald's funeral, one of the largest ever known, held.January 20, 1908—Mrs. McDonald placed on trial before Judge Brentano.January 25, 1908—Jury completed and sworn.February 11, 1908—The jury returned a verdict of not guilty.

February 21, 1907—Webster Guerin shot to death in room 703, Omaha Building, where he was closeted with Mrs. Dora McDonald.

March 5, 1907—The Coroner's jury returned an open verdict, failing to find Mrs. McDonald responsible for Guerin's death.

March 30, 1907—Mrs. McDonald released from the County Jail under bonds of $50,000.

August 9, 1907—Michael McDonald died, reconciled to his first wife through the efforts of the church.

August 12, 1907—"Mike" McDonald's funeral, one of the largest ever known, held.

January 20, 1908—Mrs. McDonald placed on trial before Judge Brentano.

January 25, 1908—Jury completed and sworn.

February 11, 1908—The jury returned a verdict of not guilty.

Judge Theodore Brentano Webster S. Guerin Assistant State's Attorneys Edwin S. Day and William A. Rittenhouse Sam Berkley Detective Clifton R. Wooldridge Col. James Hamilton Lewis and P. H. O'Donnell Michael C. McDonald Dora McDonaldJudge Theodore BrentanoWebster S. GuerinDetective Clifton R. WooldridgeAssistant State's AttorneysEdwin S. Day andWilliam A. RittenhouseCol. James Hamilton Lewisand P. H. O'DonnellSam BerkleyMichael C. McDonaldDora McDonald

Judge Theodore BrentanoWebster S. GuerinDetective Clifton R. WooldridgeAssistant State's AttorneysEdwin S. Day andWilliam A. RittenhouseCol. James Hamilton Lewisand P. H. O'DonnellSam BerkleyMichael C. McDonaldDora McDonald

The murder of Webster Guerin occurred on the morning of February 21, 1906, at his office, room 703 Omaha Building, 134 Van Buren street.

Detectives Clifton R. Wooldridge and J. P. Daugherty were on their way to see Guerin about a complaint made against him when they ran into the shooting. They had been there before, but were not able to find the man. Under the name of Fisher, Guerin had another office in the same building. The complaint was from Mrs. G. Boynton, 903 East Fifty-fifth street, who said she had been forced into buying a picture frame through the promise of the managers of the Harrison Art Studio that they would enlarge the picture free of charge.

Upon reaching the building Detectives Wooldridge and Daugherty heard a pistol shot ring out which sounded as if coming from the upper story of the building. Springing into the elevator, they soon reached the top floor, where they were directed to room 703, where a number of the tenants of the building had already gathered. Stretched upon the floor lay the body of Webster Guerin with the blood oozing from his mouth and a bullet wound from a 32-caliber revolver on the left side, just above the heart; the bullet had passed through his lungs and caused a hemorrhage; from his mouth came nearly one-half gallon of blood.

When Wooldridge and Daugherty reached the side of Guerin he was past human aid.

There were no witnesses of the killing of Guerin. He was in his office with Mrs. Dora McDonald. Several persons heard a shot, and a moment later the glass door was broken and the head of Mrs. McDonald came out.

The condition of the studio, in room 703 of the Omaha Building, shows that a violent quarrel took place between Guerin and Mrs. McDonald. Mrs. McDonald left her residence shortly after breakfast. She arrived at the buildingabout 11:45 o'clock. Guerin expected her, for he told his office boy, Thomas Hanson, who lives at 265 West Ohio street, to leave the room and not come back until 1 o'clock. Before the boy left the room Mrs. McDonald entered and the two immediately began quarreling, it is said. Guerin shouted to Hanson to leave and nothing more was heard until the shooting at 11:50 o'clock.

Persons and Places Involved in the Killing of Crayon Artist Guerin by Mrs. "Mike" McDonald.Persons and Places Involved in the Killing of Crayon Artist Guerin by Mrs. "Mike" McDonald.MRS. M. C. McDONALDWEBSTER S. GUERINROOM IN OMAHA BUILDING IN WHICH SHOOTING OCCURRED.DETECTIVE WOOLDRIDGE IN CHARGE.THE McDONALD RESIDENCE4501 DREXEL BOUL.

Persons and Places Involved in the Killing of Crayon Artist Guerin by Mrs. "Mike" McDonald.MRS. M. C. McDONALDWEBSTER S. GUERINROOM IN OMAHA BUILDING IN WHICH SHOOTING OCCURRED.DETECTIVE WOOLDRIDGE IN CHARGE.THE McDONALD RESIDENCE4501 DREXEL BOUL.

MRS. M. C. McDONALDWEBSTER S. GUERINROOM IN OMAHA BUILDING IN WHICH SHOOTING OCCURRED.DETECTIVE WOOLDRIDGE IN CHARGE.THE McDONALD RESIDENCE4501 DREXEL BOUL.

Lorenzo Blasi, who lives at 73 West Ohio street, and who is employed in room 608 of the same building, heard the shot and the sound of breaking glass. He was in the corridor on the seventh floor. He hurried to the scene and on the way heard the glass breaking again and a woman screaming: "He shot himself! He shot himself!"

When Blasi reached the studio he found Mrs. McDonald with her head partly thrust through the broken glass. Her face was bleeding from cuts. In her hand she held a revolver. She was trying to break more of the glass with her revolver and escape.

A moment later Eric Allert and Charles B. Williams, who work across the corridor, rushed out to Blasi's aid.

Mrs. McDonald was pulled through the door and the revolver was secured. In the office, men found Guerin lying dead in the room leading off from the main part of the office.

A torn picture and some hatpins were on the floor. There were finger marks on her throat.

When Dora McDonald recovered consciousness she shrieked: "Oh, God! Get a doctor; he has shot himself."

Where the revolver may have been at that time it was difficult to say. Several witnesses said that it was lying at the right side of Guerin, who was dying. Others said that the woman held it in her hand, waving it above her head as she screamed out: "He has shot himself."

Who this strong, handsomely garbed woman was who had either witnessed a suicide, committed a murder or participated in an accident no one knew, but she was hurried off to the police station by Detective Wooldridge.

"Daddy, oh, daddy, forgive me!" she kept screaming out. She was recognized, however, and it was found that "Daddy" could be none other than the big gambler and political boss, Mike McDonald. So they sent for Mike, and he gathered intohis arms the woman who in that moment broke his heart and sent him to his grave in sorrow.

An inquest was begun before Coroner Peter J. Hoffman in the Harrison Street Station on March 1, 1906. After five days an open verdict was returned, in which the jurors declared themselves unable to determine the cause of the death of Guerin.

The Coroner's jury consisted of the following named persons:

Joseph Willis, 43 Cass street; Frank O. Borhyar, 6142 Madison avenue; William Merker, 263 Seminary avenue; William C. Hollens, 6418 Rhodes avenue; David A. Smith, 3843 California avenue; George F. Cram, 4166 Drexel boulevard.

On March 16, Municipal Judge Newcomer went to the jail hospital, where Dora McDonald, still in bed, was formally arraigned and held on a charge of murder. Two weeks later she was indicted by the Grand Jury.

All of the evidence so gathered was embodied in the report of the Coroner, and the names of the witnesses were thereto attached, all of which were made public at the time. The State and the defense secured a copy of the same.

All the additional evidence and the preparation of the case was made by the State's attorneys, William H. Rittenhouse. Edwin S. Day, Frank Comerford, City Police Attorney, and other officers. All the names of new witnesses (some twelve or fifteen in number) and the evidence were concealed from Detective Wooldridge, and at no time was he present, or did he hear to what the witnesses would testify. Therefore, he had no knowledge of any new facts when the case was called for trial.

The mystery of Guerin's death proved too much for a Coroner's jury. More than two weeks after the artist was slain the Coroner's panel returned an open verdict. It merely found that Guerin had died from a bullet wound in a mannerwhich the jury was unable to determine. This same verdict Colonel Lewis sought to introduce at the trial in Judge Brentano's court. Such a move was new in criminal annals, and it was some time before the court decided that it should be ruled out.

Mrs. McDonald was meantime transferred to the County Jail from the Harrison Street Station. She was broken in health and a confirmed invalid. Two persons, however, were faithful to her, Mike McDonald and Miss Amanda Beck, her nurse.

A few hours after the tragedy of Webster Guerin all the influences and machinery at the command of Mike McDonald were brought to bear to save the life of Dora McDonald. A. S. Trude, one of the greatest criminal attorneys in Chicago, was employed, besides several other noted lawyers, to defend Dora McDonald. Mike McDonald's political friends soon became active. Everything was done to gather evidence in Dora McDonald's case, and everything was done that could be done to suppress any evidence that was injurious to her.

There was one witness who was greatly feared, and that was Detective Clifton R. Wooldridge, who made the arrest.

Several days after the shooting A. S. Trude, Mike McDonald's attorney, met Wooldridge in the Criminal Court and shook hands with him. He said that he was very glad that Wooldridge was interested in the case for one reason, for he knew he would get a square deal. He also stated that there was another reason why he was sorry that Wooldridge was in the case, because he had too many eyes and too many feet to be on the opposite side of any case in which he (Trude) was interested. This view was shared by Mike McDonald and his friends, who became active to get Wooldridge out of the way.

Mike McDonald first paid a visit to John M. Collins, then General Superintendent of Police, and one of his warmpersonal friends, and Frank Comerford, City Police Attorney. What occurred in that office will never be known, unless Collins chooses to make a statement, as McDonald has since died.

Detective Wooldridge was called to the office of John M. Collins, General Superintendent of Police, and told not to talk to any newspaper men or anyone else about the McDonald case. He was further told not to make himself too officious, and not to be too active in the case.

Several days later he was again called to Chief Collins' office and told that Frank Comerford, then acting as City Police Attorney, and a warm friend of Mike McDonald's, was to take charge of the case, so that he need not bother himself further with the matter.

Mr. Comerford became very active, securing the names of all the witnesses and all evidence to which they would testify, together with other facts. All this matter eventually found its way into the hands of the defense long before the trial.

Mike McDonald and his friends thought that Wooldridge would become active again in the case. Therefore Mike proceeded to get busy himself. No one seems to know the ins and outs of the case, but it is nevertheless a fact that soon after the election of April, 1907, Wooldridge was transferred from the office of the General Superintendent of Police, where he had served since 1889, to the Cottage Grove Avenue Station. No reason was assigned for this transfer.

Webster Guerin, who lived at 655 West Harrison street, was well known on the West Side, where he was born thirty years ago. He kept a haberdashery on West Madison street a few years before the murder, but left it to go to California. On his return he went into the picture business. Guerin was a tall, splendid-looking fellow more than six feet in height.

Guerin was known at the offices in the Omaha Building asLouis Fisher, and it was under that name that he operated the Harrison Art Company.

Dora McDonald, 35 years old, was the divorced wife of "Sam" Barclay, a former professional ball player and Chicago saloonkeeper. They had one son, Harold Barclay, who was later legally adopted by "Mike" McDonald, and who was at school in Florida at the time of the murder. He was 15 years old.

She had separated from Barclay shortly prior to her divorce and had been on the stage for a short time under the name of Mme. Alberta. She was married to Mike McDonald a week after her divorce and was taken by him to his home at Harrison street and Ashland avenue.

Dora McDonald was one of the beauties of the West Side in her day, and many admirers hovered about her threshold. The lights of the midnight hours charmed her then, and she dashed off to marry Sam Barclay, a professional baseball player.

Into that home came Michael Cassius McDonald. He was a gambler and a politician and a man of great wealth.

For the second time his wife had left him; run away, people said, with a man who had been a guest at their home.

Mike was lonesome. He saw the bride of Sam Barclay and loved her. He dined with her, and perhaps he paid for her divorce trial. At least she separated from Barclay and when Mike went a-wooing again he won this pretty woman.

In a west side home of some pretensions Mike established his new wife. He thought so much of her that he sent his sons away when she could not agree with them. He gave her money and finery and servants and carriages, and thought that she ought to be happy.

Webster Guerin lived across the street. He was a boy ofattractive manners and he won the affection of Dora McDonald.

Slander gives one reason for that affection; the woman gives another.

Archie Guerin, Webster Guerin's brother, told how Mrs. Dora McDonald had taken a violent fancy to Webster when he was a boy of 14, and Archie 13, or thereabouts; how she would meet them on their way home from school and whisk Webster into the mansion, keeping him two, three or four hours; how she used to waylay Webster on his way home from church; how she followed him through the years until she got the notion that he was falling in love with Avis Dargan; how she put detectives on the boy's trail and sat for hours in a cab opposite the Omaha Building to see whether Miss Dargan entered; how she threatened to shoot him; how she would break out into wild and vehement declarations of her love, wailing that she "worshiped every hair of his head," and that she would kill him before she would lose him.

How she came into the studio on the day Webster was shot, asserting that she had "told that old slob everything" (meaning her husband), and said she was going to New York; how Webster had replied that he was "through with her," to which she retorted, "I am not through with you; do you think I would kill myself without first putting a bullet into your head?" How Mrs. McDonald had requested him to leave the studio, and how he had refused to do so until Webster joined his request to hers; how Archie and the two boys employed in the studio had gone away and left them to act out the tragedy by themselves behind doors that were closed and locked; how Archie had gone to the Windsor Clifton Hotel to meet Harry Feldman, with whom he had a business appointment; how Feldman had become alarmed when he heard that Mrs. McDonald and Webster were alone in the studio, urging Archieto call Webster on the telephone; how he and Archie stepped to the 'phone, called up the studio, and after a gruff "hello" from a policeman got back the staggering news: "Your brother has been murdered."

"Mike" seemingly was deluded. He may have had suspicions of his wife, but his suspicions seem to have been quieted by the woman.

Even when Guerin followed her to California she dared to wire Mike: "Web Guerin is coming; fear I shall be compromised; shall I come back?"

It was such a frank admission that the gambler urged her to have mettle. "Stick," he sent back word. "Don't let anyone bluff you."

Things went on this way until the morning of February 21, 1906. Then something happened, the climax occurred and Guerin was shot.

After the arrest of his wife, "Mike" McDonald announced that he believed in her integrity and declared he would spend every cent of his fortune to save her. The former gambling dictator was almost 70 years old and his health was failing rapidly. Four months after the event he was taken to the St. Anthony de Padua Hospital, where he remained until his death, August 9, 1907.

McDonald was still passing to his death when there crept into his room a little, white-haired woman who had come from Newark, N. J. There she was known as Mrs. Grashoff and a great charity worker, especially in the interest of fallen girls in the Crittenden homes. Years before Mike McDonald had called her his first wife.

By the laws of the church she was still his wife, no matter what the years had brought forth. So Mike took her handand held it and spoke softly to her in a breath of full forgiveness and passed away. Without the door sat the woman whom he had called his wife—Dora, whom he had won from a husband and to whom he had been faithful until he stepped to the brink of his grave.

This was the last straw that crushed the spirit of Dora McDonald.

The body of Webster Guerin was removed to McNally & Duffy's undertaking rooms at 516 Wabash avenue.

Detective Wooldridge took up the work of gathering the evidence and prepared the case for the Coroner and Grand Jury.

The Grand Jury indictment placed Dora McDonald seemingly beyond the pale of bail, but Mike worked assiduously and finally secured her release from prison on $50,000 bonds. Then Mike became ill and died in St. Anthony's Hospital.

Before he gave way to his broken heart McDonald drew up a will. He set aside a defense fund with which the woman might be given adequate chance for freedom in the court, and left her "such rights and only such rights as she may be entitled to as widow."

Mrs. McDonald was put on trial January 20. The jury was completed January 25 and the taking of testimony began at once. The case of the State was made as complete as possible and the defense began an exhaustive array of testimony. The defense, however, came to a surprisingly sudden end. It had been feared that Mrs. McDonald might not live through the trial and there was every desire to have a verdict before she might give way to heart trouble.

The case was heard before Judge Theodore Brentano, and it lasted twenty-one days.

Dora McDonald was represented by Colonel James Hamilton Lewis, Chief Assistant Patrick H. O'Donnell, AttorneysBenjamin M. Shaffner, Frank R. Cain, Gabriel Norden, Clarence Shaffner and Forest G. Smith.

LOVE TRAGEDY JURYLOVE TRAGEDY JURYHARRY CORCORAN.JOSEPH KOEHLY.ARNE PETERSON.CHARLES R. JOHNSON.HERBERT R. GARN.CHARLES M'GRATH.HUGH H. FULTON.GEORGE W. MILLER.ROLAND F. GRAHAM.JAMES J. NOONAN.OTTO H. NELSON.JOHN C. ANDERSON.

LOVE TRAGEDY JURYHARRY CORCORAN.JOSEPH KOEHLY.ARNE PETERSON.CHARLES R. JOHNSON.HERBERT R. GARN.CHARLES M'GRATH.HUGH H. FULTON.GEORGE W. MILLER.ROLAND F. GRAHAM.JAMES J. NOONAN.OTTO H. NELSON.JOHN C. ANDERSON.

The State was represented by Assistant State's Attorneys William A. Rittenhouse and Edward S. Day.

Harry Corcoran, Joseph Koehy, Arne Peterson, Hugh H. Fulton, George W. Miller, Roland F. Graham, James J. Noonan, Otto H. Nelson, Charles R. Johnson, Herbert R. Garn, Charles McGrath, John C. Anderson.

With the courtroom packed to the doors and several hundredmen and women struggling to gain admission, the actual trial of Mrs. Dora McDonald, widow of Mike McDonald, commenced. Assistant State's Attorney Edward S. Day made an opening statement of the case. Trembling and his eyes flashing, he pointed a finger at Mrs. Dora McDonald and in a ringing voice denounced her as the murderess of Guerin.

"Dora McDonald became acquainted with Guerin, who was about 14 years old. His parents lived a short distance from the McDonald home."A friendship between Mrs. McDonald and the boy began, which his mother and other relatives later tried to end. Three years later the McDonalds removed to the Drexel boulevard home, but the intimacy of Webster Guerin and Mrs. McDonald continued."At any event, as time passed on, dealing meantime gently with the woman and developing Web into a young man of more than six feet in height, the two were seen frequently together. Relatives of both testified that the two kissed each other; that at times Mrs. McDonald grew jealous, in all apparent intent, over him; that she wrote poems and set them to music to show what seemed to be the very depths of a despairing heart."The woman was insanely jealous over him." "He had wandered out from her love into the light of other women's eyes. Driven to distraction by the thought that the boy she had taught to love had grown up to love another, she murdered him."

"Dora McDonald became acquainted with Guerin, who was about 14 years old. His parents lived a short distance from the McDonald home.

"A friendship between Mrs. McDonald and the boy began, which his mother and other relatives later tried to end. Three years later the McDonalds removed to the Drexel boulevard home, but the intimacy of Webster Guerin and Mrs. McDonald continued.

"At any event, as time passed on, dealing meantime gently with the woman and developing Web into a young man of more than six feet in height, the two were seen frequently together. Relatives of both testified that the two kissed each other; that at times Mrs. McDonald grew jealous, in all apparent intent, over him; that she wrote poems and set them to music to show what seemed to be the very depths of a despairing heart.

"The woman was insanely jealous over him." "He had wandered out from her love into the light of other women's eyes. Driven to distraction by the thought that the boy she had taught to love had grown up to love another, she murdered him."

"No," said the defense. "This woman was the victim of blackmail. First she had been hounded until she gave way to the big youth, and then she had paid him money from her hoard in the hope that she might free herself of him."

Testimony on the blackmail point was clouded by the maze of recrimination, but the State could not deny that Mrs. McDonald had on several occasions given the young man money with which to leave the city, but that each time he had returned "broke" within a few days.

Mr. Day's denunciation of Mrs. Dora McDonald was bitter, but the defendant appeared to take no notice of what the lawyer was saying.

Dora McDonald sat quietly as if in a trance; the bitterness of failure, the weariness of defeat, was expressed in every flutter of her purple-shadowed eyelids as she came before the bar to answer for the murder of Webster Guerin, January 20, 1907.

Dora McDonald presented a pathetic appearance before the jury.

She was dressed all in black. Not a single bit of lace or white relieved the somber effect of her funereal widow's garb. In arranging her hair Mrs. McDonald exhibited a novel idea. The long, deep-auburn strands were braided into one plait and this was wound over her temples in a single coil and fastened with coral pins.

In its unaffected artlessness Mrs. McDonald's entry into the courtroom and her removal of her hat as she sank into her chair was an act of almost girlish grace. Her long black cloak, satin lined, was thrown carelessly on a chair.

When she had removed her hat and cloak she looked squarely into the faces of the jury.

The face that was turned piteously toward the jury was deeply lined with the furrows of physical and mental suffering.

The eyes drooped constantly, and there were times when she closed them for a full minute.

Every movement of the lips or eyelids, every arrangement of dress and costume, was either studiously planned or pathetically dramatic.

The weariness and bitterness were marked in the droop of her mouth, in the perplexed wrinkling of her forehead, inthe stoop of her shoulders, in the relaxation of her hands, lying heavily on the table before her.

A long, long line of battles she has behind her, with her good name torn to shreds in the fight; and nobody can guess at the scars and open wounds in her soul. No matter how great may have been her fault, how untrammeled her impulses and wishes, how wild and defiant her spirit toward the law and society, now she is a tired, broken woman, who has lost the day.

There are many who say that the beauty of which Dora McDonald was once so proud has departed entirely. The eyes were heavy, the skin no longer showed the pink of health, but was a dead white, her figure had fallen away until she was almost emaciated, but there was a beauty in her sadness and despair that the triumphant woman never possessed.

She seldom looked at the veniremen, nor did she appear to be following the questions put to them. Occasionally she glanced at a possible juror as he stepped up to be sworn, but for the most part she sat with her head resting on her hand, or looking ahead at some mental vision. Is it the face of young Webster Guerin she sees, as he lay dead, or the face of old "Mike" McDonald as he smoothed her hair and loaded her with caresses? Is it remorse for a crime, or longing and grief for a dead admirer? Or is it despair for a wasted life, a hopeless future, a thousand lost opportunities?

If the defense expected to utilize the plea of insanity it would have had some difficulty in inducing a jury to believe that Mrs. McDonald was greatly deranged. There was no gleam of madness in her eyes. They were dark-circled and languid, but not at all staring or strange. She seemed unusually self-poised and collected.

Without any artifices of dress or cosmetics, without anygleam of gaiety or vivacity, it was not impossible to understand why this woman wielded the great influence in the lives of three men that she did. In the first place, her features were regular and fine. Her eyebrows were delicately penciled and her eyes large and dark.

The contour of her cheeks was soft and round. But one can imagine, in happier days, that there was a captivating play of expression, an esprit, a beauté de diable, that would be particularly fascinating to a man like old "Mike" McDonald. And upon such a woman would the self-made man, the gambler, uncultivated and rough, fast approaching old age, delight to heap luxury and adoration, as there is no doubt "Mike" McDonald did.

And is it not easy to imagine that such a woman would have a powerful attraction for a young man, with her sophistication and experience matched against his ignorance? And now one of the men is dead of a broken heart, and the other struck down in the very first flush of his youth, and the instrument of pleasure and destruction stands at the end of a shattered life.

Until a jury should decide, in so far as human fallibility may decide, just whether or how Dora McDonald shot down Webster Guerin, that victim of tangled love and jealousy, a waiting city hung expectant on every incident bared since the day that the artist toppled before a pistol ball in his studio with a woman of furs and furbelows standing sobbing above him.

A "Sappho" in a grimy city she was called because her heart was touched by the strength of youth; a "Salome" because she planted a kiss on his dying lips, but whether she was victim or vampire, sinner or sinned against, was solely for the jury to say.

Cries of blackmail, of bribery, of frenzied jealousy, of shameless love and daring intrigue, rang around the courtroom for the long days of the trial, but for the jury it was only to look behind the locked door of the artist's studio and see whether the revolver with which Guerin was shot down was held by the woman or the young man; whether there was malice or accident or self-destruction, and what the motive for either might be.

The shot that sounded his death was the climax to an attachment—guilty or not, as the case might be—that began when Dora McDonald was a wonderfully beautiful and younger woman, the wife of a wealthy gambler, and the lady of a mansion, and Webster Guerin was a mere lad, just old enough to doff short trousers for manly attire.

Affection, money and attention were lavished on the young man by this woman. At banquet board and in the theater box they passed their hours together. Of this there was no dispute. The sole question was whether the woman gave way to the lure of a boy, or whether the boy was importuned by the woman; whether in after years that boy blackmailed that same woman, or whether she loved him to a distraction that brought the madness of jealousy and the revolver.

And what of the love attachment? the police wondered. But as they delved a little they unearthed strange and tender things, but nothing more strange than poems written by the woman and apparently dedicated to the youth.

The tragedy of a soul was bared when Assistant State's Attorney Day read to the jury poems of passion found in the reticule taken from Mrs. McDonald on her arrest.

The State regarded the declarations contained in the verse as disclosing a dual motive of murder and suicide, and introduced them as circumstantial evidence. One entitled "Mistakes" was written on the day of the Guerin love tragedy.

Here is the first one read:

Put the word "finish" down by my name:I played for high stakes, but I lost the game;I played for life, for honor and love:Well, I am not the first mortal who has lost all.I have made up my mind to care not a bit;Let honor and love sink to the bottomless pit.Pull down the curtains, bring in the lights,Put from my memory horrible sightsOf treachery where there should have been love,Of red blood where should have been whiteness of dove;The past, the present and the future are done:How different, O God! had it been had I won.

We are drifting apart,Though from no change of heart:But we cannot agree,And the end we can see,So the bonds of our love we will sever;And I wonder if weWill, alas! too late seeThat our happiness lay in each other.For when soul finds its mateIt is often too lateTo struggle and fight against conquering fate.And what does it mean?This parting, I ween;I'll leave you, but, well.Neither heaven nor hellWill make me forget you.Nor save you should I findAnother holds the place that was and is mine.

This poem, entitled "Mistakes," is dated February 21, 1907. 11:20 a. m.:

Said he: "Where is my sin?I'm only as men have ever been.I'm not so bad, I'm not so good,And I'd be as you'd have me if only I could.But you are strong and good and brave.Surely for me a road you can pave,A road which shall be my happiness, my very soul save.After all, it's for you and you only that I crave."She waited a moment, then came her reply:"To the old adage, that women are weak, you can give the lie.Not only you, others as well,All through life have the same tale to tell.I didn't mean to do it—I didn't, I swear,But you can forgive me; your loss I cannot bear.Can I forgive you? Well, that's not so clear,Though you certainly were to me very dear.I think, after all, now that I am awake.I think it was I who made the mistake.I thought of you ever as a flower rare.With whom other flowers could not even compare.Alack and alas! I find, after all,You are only a sunflower, of which there are many,Who take all the elements have to giveAnd give nothing that creates or causes happiness to live."

Another of Mrs. McDonald's poems, written on the day of the killing, is as follows:

Kill me if you will, for all is well.I know that to Satan your soul you can't sell,And I've saved you from everlasting hell.I had lifted you up, when, lo! I foundSlowly but surely you were dragging me down.Out of space thus came a warningSoft and clear as the breath of the morning.

Have you learned the old saying of pearls before swine?I gave every pearl that ever was mine.I've nothing more to give.And it's hardly worth while for me to live.More blessed to give than receive, they say.I followed that teaching in my poor way.I wanted returns, I'll have to confess,And I had to be cool, and firm and brave,For I knew 'twas my duty your soul to save.And I've set your feet on the path of right,And from now till the end you shall see but the lightAnd turn from it to pitfalls and terrors of night.Turn to the right, to the wrong you may sway.From black imps' vile rottenness I've snatched you away,And though I fall slain at your feet with a moan,I care not, for evil from you has flown;And, by all the glory of God above,I've proven the strength of a weak woman's love,And I thought my pearls would bring love that was blessed.I did so want love that was loyal;'Twas more to me than a diadem royal.But I found too late that I was wrong,That love but existed in hopes and in song.What became of those pearls of mine?Oh, nothing! I just threw my pearls to the swine.

I waged a battle fierce and long,I fought to know the right from wrong.Did I succeed? I cannot tell,Yet when I met sin I knew full wellThat fight's not over. 'Tis scarcely begun,And I struggle again to win, one by one,Steps on the ladder that mounts to great deeds,Where the path to the right unfailingly leads.As I gazed at the battlefield, flooded with gore,Where the path to the right unfailingly bore,I knew that the wounds came from contact with sin.'Twas demons let loose that float in the air;But the fight's worth the while, for whenMisery and heartaches shall all pass awayRight has full sway.

The reading of the poems was followed intently by the big crowd in Judge Brentano's courtroom. Mrs. McDonald appeared uninterested.

From poetry the step was easy into song. Accomplished and educated as Dora McDonald was, with time hanging, sometimes, heavy on her hands, what more natural than that she should set her verses to music of her own composing?

(Song written, composed and published by Mrs. Michael C. McDonald.)

'Twas only a story of a woman's love, a tale that has often been told.She gave a love that knew no bounds; the rest of the story is old.Again he had strayed, and this time had made a mistake she could never forget;In a voice that was dense with a grief intense she mournfully did say:I gave you sweetest love, you gave me naught but pain;Oh, I forgave you more than once but to be hurt again.This time it means the end, for I could never forget.I shall never see you again, although I love you yet.With tears in his eyes the man replied: "I know that I have gone astray;Remorse will last till life is passed; forgive me, don't send me away.Oh, let me atone, live for you alone; just once more have pity on me."But, bowing her head, with its look of one dead, she softly but firmly said:I gave you sweetest love, etc.

I gave you sweetest love, you gave me naught but pain;Oh, I forgave you more than once but to be hurt again.This time it means the end, for I could never forget.I shall never see you again, although I love you yet.

With tears in his eyes the man replied: "I know that I have gone astray;Remorse will last till life is passed; forgive me, don't send me away.Oh, let me atone, live for you alone; just once more have pity on me."But, bowing her head, with its look of one dead, she softly but firmly said:

I gave you sweetest love, etc.

The mother of the woman, an aged orthodox Hebrew, never went near Dora McDonald until the trial was nearly done, though that same old woman bent her knees as she day and night raised her voice to Jehovah in lamentations.

Ill health, mental and physical, followed. All the sorrows of a shattered life befell her.

For Dora McDonald, life had been lived when Guerin died. It mattered not after that whether she went to the gallows or to freedom. But for one reason she would not have cared a whit whether her case was fought before a jury or not. The one reason was vindication that her mother might be spared something of shame.

The vindication, however, was sought at a costly price—the price of a life and heart and love bared to a gaping world. It was an expensive effort to wash off the stain of an indictment.

At the trial Assistant State's Attorneys Edward S. Day and William H. Rittenhouse wrangled with their own witnesses and tried one after another to have them testify to things they never saw or heard.

They attacked Inspector John Wheeler, Officer J. G. S. Peterson, Thomas F. McFarland, Detective Wooldridge, Police Matron Elizabeth Belmont, Charles Freudenberg, an old soldier 60 years old, and threatened him with an indictment; Louis Jacobs, Lorenzo Blasi, Herman Hanson and Charles B. Williams.

All of those accused except Detective Wooldridge considered the fulminations of Attorneys Day and Rittenhouse a good joke. They regarded them as the vaporings of temporarily disordered intellects, minds that had become rattled by a case which was too big for them.

Owing, however, to the peculiar position in which he was placed as the officer who made the arrest, Wooldridge was forced to take cognizance of the matter.

Wooldridge denied the statements made against him and branded them as malicious lies manufactured out of whole cloth. He asked for a hearing before the Civil Service Board, which was granted to him after the trial was over.

It was fully shown at the investigation how Wooldridge had been treated in the matter, and the motive for his transfer; it was also shown that he knew no new facts, neither did he meet or know any witnesses except those who had testified to the Coroner and Grand Jury.

The motives for his transfer and the reports were fully uncovered and exposed.

Detective Wooldridge was exonerated by the entire Board of Civil Service Commissioners.

Day and Rittenhouse simply sewed up the case in criminations and recriminations.

Assistant State's Attorneys Day and Rittenhouse were outgeneraled, outclassed and whipped, and wanted to throw the blame for the acquittal of Dora McDonald on the Police Department and failed. They did everything but try the case.

Colonel Lewis said that the State had not denied that the revolver with which Guerin was shot was his own. He called for the weapon and showed the jury how Guerin might have shot himself if Mrs. McDonald, in her struggle with him, had merely pushed the revolver around in the palm of his hand.

Again he called for the blood-stained coat that Guerin wore when he was killed. It was too good an opportunity to be overlooked by the fine dramatic eye of the Colonel.

"You remember the speech of Mark Anthony," he said; "how he produced a tremendous effect with the robe of the great Cæsar? I will not ask for more than the robe that this Cæsar wore."

Thereupon he spread out the grewsome relic on the railing on the jury box to show what he said were powder marks. In his mind, there was no doubt about how the tragedy worked out. Guerin, enraged and terrified when Mrs. McDonald told him that she had told her rich and influential husband everything, attacked her. He got the revolver out of his drawer, probably to frighten her. Mrs. McDonald, half choked, saw it gleam and pushed it away from her.

More striking than the beautiful imageries and the wealth of quotation from ancient and modern authors with which the Colonel embellished his speech was his strong play upon "that fifteen minutes," which, according to his interpretation of the evidence, elapsed between the time the boys in Guerin's studio were ejected and the time when Archie came out, leaving his brother and Mrs. McDonald alone, behind locked doors.

"There need be nothing else in this case for you," exclaimed the speaker, "than this fifteen minutes unaccounted for. Archie Guerin knew what was going on there, and before God he should tell, but he did not. He hurried away and cleared the corridors. Nervous and confused, he hunted up Harry Feldman in the Windsor-Clifton Hotel, so that if anything happened, he could say:

"'I didn't do it. You know I didn't, Feldman. I was right here with you.'"

There were wet eyes in the courtroom as the real Dora McDonald was brought to life in the closing address of Mr. O'Donnell. The bickerings and the charges and the abuse that had made the courtroom like a pothouse brawl all day were forgotten. The woman's black clad figure and her white, despairing face became the living picture of the world-old tragedy of the judgment and the problem of pardon.

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