Robbery under law

Front matter

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Prologue

It is but fair to state that lady number two's play-reader had not the remotest idea as to the identity of the author of ''Robbery Under Law.'* For he says in his critique, "the authors are."

Finally he is presumably unfamiliar with the stirring cycle of events which — for the past eighteen years — has been whirling around the head of "Who's Looney Now?" A Play in Three Acts and Three Scenes.

INSET To "EOBBERY UNDER LAW"

DEATHLESS ROMANCE.

Chorus loquitur.

In MemoHam "THE WIZARD OF THE NORTH."

Thou think'st perchance Romance is dead and gone

That Science cold hath laid her fiery ghost

But glance within and thou 'It be told not one

But deeds of derring-do a serried host.

The Poetr}^ of Business herein gleams —

The sparkling projects of her darkling womb —

And Death doth shed her shimmering moonbeam gleams

Athwart the ghostly portal of the Tomb.

Love lifts her radiant head and waves her hand;

Whereat fell Rivalry doth draw his knife —

Psychology then in the game takes hand^

And san^'es the hero in his hour of strife!

In short we show that Mysteiy to-day

Is as mysterious as she's been for aye.

OR

The Battle of the Millionaires

A Play in Three Acts and Three Scenes.

Dramatis Personam.

Hugh Stutfield of "Rokeby,'' Albemarle County, Virginia, and New York. Millionaire Art Patron and Law Writer. 30 years old. In love with Viola.

James Lawless, of New York. Millionaire man- about- town. 30 years old. Rival of Stutfield, and his enemy. Rejected suitor of Viola.

Winston Blettermole, of New York, millionaire. Cousin and heir-at-law of Stutfield, and his bitter enemy. 30 years old.

Bei.isarius p. Spink, of the New York County Bar. Family lawyer of both Lawless and Blettermole. Learned but unscrupulous practitioner. Hatches the plot to have Stutfield basely declared insane to rid Lawless of a rival in love, and enable Blettermole to obtain control of his five million dollar estate. Known to his intimates as "B. P.," since he frowns upon the juxtaposition of such names as "Belisarius'- and "Spink." 50 years old, but wonderfully preserved.

Captain Cariston, "F. F. V." and ex-Confederate Cavalry Officer under Stuart in the army of Northern Virginia. Since the war exiled himself to the coal fields of West Virginia for twenty years, and as a result is now worth half a million. Father of Viola, his only child. About 50 3^ears old.

Albert Wedge. Inventor. In employ of Stutfield, about 30 years old.

JoHx BuLLARD. English machinist, 32 years old.

/ Xew York alienists. Employed by Lawless

-p^ -p> I and Blettermole to visit Stutfield in Xew York

j^ ' ^^ ^^ / under false pretenses, garble his statements

/ and falsely testify as to his insanity. Fifty-

' five and fifty-eight, respectively.

"Bosco."' Stutfield's negro body-servant.

"Wash." Negro butler at "Elsinore." the three thousand acre plantation of Captain Cariston in Albemarle Comity.

Pat Sligo. Keeper at "Fairdale" Insane Asylum. In charge of Stutfield. 25 years old.

Viola Caristox. Daughter of Captain Cariston. of "Elsinore." In love with Stutfield. 25 years old.

Constaxtia Blettermole. Wife of Winston Blettermole. Viola's best friend. 28 years old.

Mrs. Bullard. Wife of John Bullard. 30 years old.

MoNA Bullard. Eight year old daughter of Mrs. Bullard.

tAlfas Rumdumbagore, a falsely alleged Parsee fire-worshipper from Bombay.

The Rescue.

The wood at "Fairdale" Insane Asylum. Time: Afternoon. Three weeks later.

THE HAXD OF DESTIXY.

Act I. Dining Room at ••Eokebv," Albemarle County, Virginia

(Stutfield. alone, dressed in riding costume — cut-awaycoat, breeches and gaiters — sitting at table in centre of stage. Stutfleld is a man five feet ten and tki'ee-quarter inches high, of athletic build and weighs a hundred and fiity-four. His features are strong and regular. Eyes dark grey, hair thick and curly and such dark brown as to appear black. He is clean shaved. He smiles as readily as he frowns. Luncheon over. except fruit. "Bosco." a powerful negro servant, enters and hands Stutfield a letter, on a silver salver).

"Bcsco*": "From [Miss Cariston. Sir. The groom brought it and left."

(Servant retires. Stutfield opens letter, and reads.)

Stutfield. { Reading ^)

•"Elsinore."'

March thirteenth. 1887.

"Dearest Hugh:

This is the twelfth letter I have ever, ever written you. my dear, and yet I am in the same state of imcertainty as regards accepting you as I was when I sat down to write the first. Why is this? Why can't I make up my mind? You satisfy my mental concept of a man. you satisfy my moral concept, and my physical. You are blue-blooded. You are rich. You are in the prime of life. You are a cosmopolitan — a Londoner, a Parisian, and a Xew Yorker, as much as you are a Virginian bom. if not raised in the dear old State. Why cannot I say. 'Come to me. and take me.* You who are a metaphysician and a philosopher will probably say because I do not know my own mind. But my dear, dear friend, the tabulating of — I shan't say all and simdry. but certainly — several of your attractive qualities in this letter, gainsays that hypothesis, does it not. Hugh? I do wish I could screw myself up to the sticking-place and say. 'Come.' But I cannot. I feel. Hugh, darling, that I am doing you a great wrong in keeping you hanging in the offing like this — that I am keeping some nobler woman than myself away from you. away from your charm, aw^ay from your manliness, away from your high ideality and true Christian manhood. You see, dear, I do know you pretty well for having known you for so short a while — barely three months — after all, do I not, darling? But try as I may, I simply cannot bring myself to say 'Yes.' When I first saw you at that ball in New York last January — the 'Patriarchs' — I had a feeling that you were my mate. That may sound strangely but you know I am a strange creature. That may sound unmaidenly — ^but, my darling, j^ou know, at all events, I am not that. Yes, Hugh, I felt that you were my mate, my man, my defender, and champion against 'the thorns and crosses of the world' as our Shakspeare says. You don't know how my heart went out to you — how it beat under my corsage — you see, dear, I am frank — I do not conceal your attraction for me — and yet — and yet — . But there — I know my vacillation irritates you, dear, so I shall stop, with a prayer for guidance to that God Whom we both so firmly believe in, and trust.

Your friend,

Viola Cariston."

(Upon reading letter Stutfield says:) "What wouldn't I give to be able to win that girl!"

(Leans head on hand, elbow on table and gazes into fire at right. After a moment) :

"I'd give anything — anything — anything an honorable man could — to win her." (Pause) "A girl like that needs the imagination touched — needs something that appeals to the imagination — to turn the trick. And what in G — d's name can appeal to a young girl's imagination in these drabcolored, hum-drum piping days of peace! Nothing!" (A pause. Sighs.) "Well, there's nothing to do for it but waitwaiting in a case like the present doesn't spoil anything, doesn't endanger anything — 'Patience and shuffle the cards — patience and shuffle the cards' — (The negro, Bosco,. enters and says:)

"Miss Cariston, Sir, and a strange lady is outside — in Miss Cariston's runabout — and Miss Cariston want to know^ if yo' can see her and the lady for a few minutes."

Stutfield: ^'Jliss Carist07i/"

Bosco: "Yes, Suh."

Stutfield: '•Certainly, 111 go out at once."

(Enter Viola and Mrs. Bullard, and an eight-year-old daughter. Viola Cariston is five feet eight inches in height, of full but graceful figure. Has dazzling ^hite skin with two patches of colour in her cheeks. Her eyes are a redbrown, so dark as to appear almost black. Her hair which is very abundant and naturally wa^-y is a dark copper colour — almost black. She has a face of wining sweetness, shadowed by a seriousness — a gravity — which makes her smile a rare one.

Mrs. Bullard is an attractive, well mannered, lower-middle class woman, modestly, but tastefully dressed.

Mona is a child of unusual attractiveness and refinement: dressed with extreme care by her mother.)

Viola : "I came in uninvited, Hugh — as you see — but the matter is marked 'Urgent' and ceremony must go to the wall. Permit me to make you known to Mrs. John Bullard, late of England. I come in the role of a damsel-errant, succouring distressed womanhood — nothing else, you may well imagine, could have induced me to invade the bachelor quarters of Mr. Hugh Stutfield, of 'Eokeby' and New York."

(Stutfield, who has risen and crossed the stage to door at left by which they entered — only door in the room — bows politely but coldly to Mrs. Bullard, who returns the salute quietly).

Stutfield: "One moment. Miss Cariston — permit me. Bosco. clear the table. Then tell Miss Cariston's groom to take the horse to the stable — but not unharness — on account of the cold." (Bosco bows, and with great alacrity, skill and noiselessness places the plate and fruit-dish upon a tray — no cloth on the table, which is mahogany — with fruit knife and glass, and the table is cleared. He then disappears).

Stutfield: "Won't you ladies and the little girl please seat yourselves before the fire and warm?" (Bringing up two chairs. The little girl on the way to mount her mother's lap spys an old Xile green velvet. Rugby School. England, football cap of Stutfield's. on the table, and exclaims) :

Mona: "My, what a pretty cap!"

Stutfield: "Yes, young lady, rather Oriental, is it not? That (holding it up) Miss Cariston, is a souvenir of my hardfought battles on the football field at Rugby — Tom Brown's Rugby — where I was full back for my team. I wear it only about the house and only in winter — and only in going through the halls — because as you may have noticed — though hot Avater is laid on here I never use anything but the open wood fires, and therefore the hall- ways are cold. (Leaving the cap in the child's hands).

Viola: "Mr. Stutfield, this lady met me as I was driving home from a Ladies' Auxiliary meeting at Grace church. She was on foot, accompanied by her little girl. She stopped me and asked if I knew the way to Mr. Hugh Stutfield's. I replied that I did. She then asked me if I would mind driving her there, as she had business of importance which would not brook delay. I willingly consented. As soon as she was seated she said that she would like to speak to me privately. I thereupon told Griffith — the boy — to get down and walk ahead of the horse — "

Stutfield: "Pardon my interruption, but I shall give myself the pleasure of saying a general ever! You made Master' Griffith walk ahead of the horse. There's where your generalship which you will bear me out I've always insisted on, you inherited from your warlike sire — there's where your generalship came in, and made its rare presence felt^ — ninety women out of a hundred — and ninety men even — would have allowed Master Griffith to walk behind and overhear you, or anywhere he pleased, so long as he did walk."

Viola : ^''Merci. But no more interruptions, if you please — particularly upon such exceedingly trifling provocation — the matter in hand, Mr. Stutfield, is of the very gravest possible importance."

(Stutfield, who has at first smiled and bowed, now looks grave and says) :

Stutfield: "A thousand pardons — I shall not offend again."

Viola: "Mrs. Bullard then told me one of the most heart-rending stories I have ever heard, of marital unhappiness. I should preface my remarks by saying that I have known of her and her husband and little girl ever since they

for 9o

T is said to bp m lue ben able to ^ an t^

:-fli. and scaicebr safiriTi: Mr^ BdDaid aars ber man — and he is known to be very industrious. At this point, Mrs. Bullard can best take up the tale."

Mrs. BuUard: "Well, sir, my husband is a wife-beater of the very worst description. Last night he beat me over the shoulders and back with a poker — gave me about a dozen very severe blows with a small iron poker — he generally uses a poker because anything less strong than iron would break under the force of his blows. He is always very careful not to strike me about the head or face, where the marks could be seen. He always hits me where the marks will not be seen. He has been beating me off and on now for a year or more. I have left him twice and gone to my relatives who are well to do. Each time I forgave him and returned. I shall do so no more. He will kill me one of these days if I don't leave him. Last night he beat me dreadfully, and for no cause. It isn't as though I didn't make him a good and faithful wife, or didn't make him comfortable at home — didn't cook his meals properly, and have everything neat and tidy about the home. For I do all these things — "

Viola: "Excuse me, Mrs. Bullard, but why on earth does he beat you?"

Mrs. Bullard : "To vent his spite, Miss — to ease his feelings. He has awful ugly moods sometimes when he's sullen and won't speak a word. He's not a great talker anyway, but when he gets into one of those moods, he won't say a word — it's just a look and a blow — just a look and a blow — and once he's begun he seems to get more and more fond of it, and so gives me a dozen or more blows. It's the same with little Mona here." (Pointing to the child on her lap). "He'll strike her as quick as me in one of those moods — but he never takes anything to her as he does to me — never uses a poker or a pair of tongs as he does with me — he seems to realize that it might kill her. He never drinks nor has anything to do with other women — or other men, for that matter. He's hard working but he doesn't care the snap of his finger for me, nor for Mona here. He's never kissed the child since she was born. He's a cruel man — cruel to animals. He beat our cow so with a poker one day that one of the neighbors said she'd have him arrested if he did that again. I don't want you to think. Miss, that I'm runninor him down — for he has some good points. He's a good husband except in two points — he doesn't love me, and he likes to beat me — saving those two things he's as correct and proper a man as one could find — hard working and honest."

Stutfield: "Is he perfectly right in his mind?"

Mrs. BuUard: "Perfectly, sir, — no man with a harder head on his shoulders, or a harder heart below his shoulders, was ever born in England. We lived in Liverpool. He is a railway engineer, and good at any skilled work, most. We came to this country a few months ago to better ourselves — he's not saving. I don't know what he does with the money, he never smokes, drinks, nor gambles, but he never has any laid aside. He first went to work in the Locomotive Works in Richmond, and gave first-rate satisfaction — but they laid off about fifty or a hundred hands a few weeks ago and he was among them. Miss Cariston has told you the rest. Xow, what I want, sir, is this. I'm told you are a lawyer and a very kind-hearted gentleman — the friend of the poor and afflicted. Now, I came over here for protection from my husband, and to find out from you if I can get a divorce from him in this country for wife-beating. I'm perfectly willing to stay, with my little girl, at one of your married white farmer's, and do anything in the way of sewing — ^I used to support myself with my needle in the old country before I was married — "

Stutfield: "Pardon me, how long have you been married?"

Mrs. Bullard: "Ten years. Mona is eight years old. I am willing to do anything in the way of sewing you may wish; by way of return for my board and lodging. Of course, if you get a divorce for me I cannot repay you — for I haven't a dollar on earth. I had a little property when he married me — one thousand pounds — five thousand dollars of your money — that's why he married me — but he squandered it all — made me — compelled me — to turn it over to him and then squandered it — "

Stutfield: "You are completely under his thumb — pardon my bluntness. Mrs. Bullard — you are dominated and overmastered by your husband, are you not? Besides being physically afraid of him — frankly in terror of your life."

Mrs. Billiard: "Yes, sir."

Stutfield: "You are of a somewhat weak and yieldin"? disposition, are you not. Madam? Somewhat 'peace at any price, — even at that of a beating — are you not? Pardon my professional frankness, but if I am to have anything to do with your case there must be no mincing of words between us."

Mrs. Bullard: "Yes, sir. I suppose I am. I dislike a row worse than anything in the world."

Stutfield: "Even worse than a beating?"

Mrs. Bullard: "I used to, but I do so no longer. Last night's beating finished it for me. I'd rather risk death — rather risk death itself than see him come at me with iron in his hands again — "

Mona : "O ! sir, father beat mother dreadful last night. It was as she was undressing and her back was all black and blue and bloody after it."

Viola : "You poor child ! I declare, it's an outrageous shame ! What a monster that man must be. Mr. Stutfield, I do hope you can protect this poor woman and free her from her awful bonds — it would be a really charitable, Christian act, of the first magnitude."

Stutfield: "I promise you to do both, provided the Virginia law gives cruelty as a ground for divorce. If you will permit me, I'll go into the library and consult my authorities. I shall not be gone long, and shall always be within call. You know I am not a member of the Virginia bar, but of the bar of New York, and am therefore not familiar with the law here.

Viola : "You are excused, Mr. Stutfield."

Mona : "Oh ! What a nice, kind gentleman."

Mrs. Bullard: "Hush, my child, he may hear you." Mona: "Suppose he does. Mother, what 's the harm?" Mrs. Bullard: "He would think you, perhaps, a pert little girl."

!Mona: "I don't think he would Mother — he don't look that way."

Viola : "You are right, my child, he wouldn't misunderstand — ^but I don't want you to think that I am finding fault with vour mamma."

12 R 3 B E R Y U X D E Pw L A W

Mona : "Oh! Xo. [Miss. I couldn't think that, for my Mamma is a loTelv Mamma — so kind and sweet to me — I only wish my Papa was — I hite Papa" (stamping her foot — she had meantime got down from her mother's lap and was standing between the two women).

Mrs. Bullard : "Shi Shi Mona. you must not use such language about your Father. I had to tell the gentleman all about it. or he wouldn't know what to do. but that's no excuse for you to act like a ba'dly brought up little girl — **

(Enter Stutfield)

Smtfield: "It's all right. I'm glad to say — Virginia 's all right. Cruelty is ground for divorce — in this grand old State."

Viola : "Oh I I'm >:o relieved."

Mrs. Bullard: "Thank (^^r/.i."'

Stutfield: "Xow. [Mrs. Bullard, this is what I am prepared to do. I'll put ycu up free of charge with my head farmer, who has a wife and a little girl just your age. young lady." i turning and smiling and waving his hand to Mona L 'Tt will put some roses in your pretty cheeks to get some of the eggs and buttermilk off of this four hundred acre dairy farm — "

Mona: "I ^-0\'^: buttermilk."^

Stutfield: ••Y':u shall have enough of it to swim in if you like, my child. To resume. Mrs. Bullard. 1*11 turn your case over to be charged to my accoimt. to my own lawyer in Charlottesville — fourteen miles from here — the coimty seat — the home of Jefferson. Fancy wife-beating taking place within a few miles of Monticello. Miss Cariston I"

Viola: "It's infamous T'

Stutfield: "I'll of course, charge you nothing for it. Furthermore, this is confidential, ladies — as I do not — I am a member of the Xew York bar — though of Virginia origin — carry my heart on my sleeve, hence my caution. I put in practice my religion. 'Bear ye one another's burdens.' hence my proposition to act as if it were / who wanted the divorce — ^liss Cariston — as though it were / that wanted the divorce — Miss Cariston — "

Viola : "I heard you quite distinctly the first time you made the observation, Mr. Stutfield."

Stutfield: "Thank you, Miss Cariston. To resume, 1 shall, furthermore, Mrs. Bullard, pay your return passage to Liverpool, first class, on a safe and comfortable line, running every two weeks from Norfolk, and give you enough money besides to make you comfortable from now until you land in Liverpool, and leave you some over."

Mrs. Bullard: "I am sure the Lord will bless you for all your goodness to a helpless woman and her little girl in a strange land — "

Stutfield: "I devoutly hope He will. And now, ladies, please make yourselves at home while I give a few orders." (Exit. Picking up the cap and holding it in his hand as he exits) .

Mrs. Bullard : "I am sure. Miss, I cannot ever thank you sufficiently for bringing me to this kind gentleman. The Lord surely has raised up a helper for us in the hour of need."

Viola: "He surely has, Mrs. Bullard; and Mr. Stutfield will carry out to the precise letter everything he has promised."

(At this moment the door opens softly and John Bullard glides into the room. There is a seven-foot Japanese screen ten feet long, running alongside the whole length of the table, completely shutting off the door, and several feet of the room on either side. The door is in the middle of the room. Bullard is a powerfully built man, of medium height, with sandy hair, a sweeping military moustache of the same color and light blue eyes, dressed plainly, but neatly, in blue serge clothes — a sack suit — with heavy brogans, such as workingmen wear, on his feet. His linen is clean, and his necktie neatly tied in a small bow. The door is to the left, directly opposite the fire-place, before which the women are seated. Bullard swiftly but noiselessly — despite his heavy shoes — glides round the edge of the screen between it and the audience. Mona sees him first, and utters a little cry).

Mona: "Oh, Mother! There 's Father!"

Bullard: "Yes, you little brat, I've tracked you 'ere at last, and your fine, dutiful Parent — ^ha! ha! I've a little account to settle with you. Madam, when I gets you 'ome — "

Mrs. Bullard: "You'll never do that—"

Bullard: "Never do that, and why not, pray?"

Mrs. Bullard: ''Because I'm never going to your home any more. YouVe beaten me once too often, Mr. Bullard. The worm has turned at last. I go home with you no more."

Bullard: "Well, we'll see about that — you may rest assured, Madam, — we'll see about that. In the meantime "ow do you propose to live and where do you propose to live?"

Mrs. Bullard: "I propose to live at the head farmer's here — he has a wife and little girl, and take in sewing to support myself."

Bullard: "Oh! You do, do you? A pretty notion that — a very pretty notion, indeed. Well, I'll have none of it, so come along now, come along now!"

Mrs. Bullard: "I'll do no such thing."

(Bullard has been standing at the foot of the table, half facing the audience, and facing the women. He thereupon darts forward and seizes a pair of tongs at the right of the fire-place, and raises them to strike his wife. She — so soon as he darts forward — hastily retreats with Mona by the hand, to a recess at the left of the fire-place — between it and the audience — here there is a large, closed wood-box. She kneels down by this with Mona under her, protecting the child, and her head bowed, awaiting Bullard's blows. Meantime Viola has darted toward the door and opening it screams).

Viola : "Hugh, Help ! Help !"

(Bullard begins to rain blows upon his wife's head. She has very heavy black hair, done up in a coil on top of her head. This saves her life. At the second cry for help Stutfield's voice is heard shouting).

Stutfield: "All right. I'm coming!"

(Bullard pays no attention to Stutfield's voice. Soon the sound of Stutfield's feet is heard, and followed by Viola he dashes into the room and hisses).

Stutfield : "Wife-beater ! "

(Stutfield darts round the end of the screen, rushes at Bullard and seizes him by the collar, jerks him away from his wife, and pinions him against the wall in the comer, by the throat. Stutfield's left hand on Bullard's throat. Bullard has the tongs still in his right hand. A tug of war then ensues between Stutfield and Bullard. Stutfield trying to keep him pinned to the wall so that he cannot swing the tongs.

Bullard trying to push Stutfield from him so that he can land a knock-down blow on top of Stutfield's head. Stutfield has on the Nile green and silver velvet Rugby School, England, football cap on his head on entering, and it is on during the struggle. Gradually Bullard pushes Stutfield away, and getting him far enough off for a half-arm blow, swings the tongs and knocks Stutfield down. Viola screams once, but stands her ground a few feet behind Stutfield. As he falls, she darts forward, and bends over his head, spreading out her arms saying).

Viola: "Strike me, you bully — you can't hit him when he's down!"

(Bullard sneers silently and disregarding Viola watches the unconscious Stutfield attentively. In about two seconds from the time Viola spoke, Stutfield opens his eyes, and before either Viola or Bullard know, is on his feet and crouching to spring once more at Bullard's throat. They watch one another silently for a few seconds. Then Stutfield advances straight at Bullard's throat with left arm outstretched stiff, to its fullest extent. He has hardly made two strides when Bullard brings down the tongs full on top of his head — which still has the heavy velvet cap on, with a silver knob the size of an acorn — of silver wire on the top. This knob saves his life. It and the velvet break the force of the blow. Stutfield drops insensible in his tracks. Once more, Viola screams, and once more stretches her arms over the prostrate Stutfield saying).

Viola : "Kill me, if you like, but you shan't touch him."

Bullard: (Sneering). "Your feller, eh? Well, I fancy I done for 'im that time. D — n 'im, interferin' in my family affairs. Now, I've got a little bone to pick with this lady."

(Bullard moves towards the still crouching but silent woman — save for her low moans when he struck her, and frightened sobs from the little child. Just before he reaches her, Viola gives a piercing scream, and cries out immediately thereafter).

Viola: ''Help! Murder r

Bosco: (In low tones from the comer of the screen — the same round which Stutfield charged at Bullard). "I'se here, Miss. I'se here. Miss. Bosco here. Bosco '11 do him — watch Bosco! Lawd-Gawd! Is dat Mr. Stutfield layin' there? Your murderin' villain!"

(With that, Bosco crouches like a tiger and springs upon BuUard from behind, bringing Bullard down flat on his back under him. By this time Stutfield has come to, and risen to his feet).

Viola: (In a low tone). "Are you hurt, my darling?''

Stutfield: (In the same low voice). "No^ my dearest darling, not a bit. You precious child! It took the threat of death — of my death to melt your frozen bosom. Do you love me?"