The Red Seal | Page 3

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THE RED SEAL
by Natalie Sumner Lincoln

CHAPTER I
IN THE POLICE COURT
Te Assistant District Attorney glanced down at the papers in his hand
and then up at the well-dressed, stockily built man occupying the
witness stand. His manner was conciliatory.
"According to your testimony, Mr. Clymer, the prisoner, John Sylvester,
was honest and reliable, and faithfully performed his duties as
confidential clerk," he stated. "Just when was Sylvester in your
employ?"
"Sylvester was never in my employ," corrected Benjamin Augustus
Clymer. The president of the Metropolis Trust Company was noted for
his precision of speech. "During the winter of 1918 I shared an
apartment with Judge James Hildebrand, who employed Sylvester."
"Was Sylvester addicted to drink?" "No."
"Was he quarrelsome?"
"No."
"Was Sylvester married at that date?"
At the question a faint smile touched the corners of Clymer's clean
shaven mouth and his eyes traveled involuntarily toward the
over-dressed female whose charge of assault and battery against her
husband had brought Clymer to the police court as a "character"
witness in Sylvester's behalf.
"Sylvester left Judge Hildebrand to get married," he explained. "He was
a model clerk; honest, sober, and industrious."
"That is all, Mr. Clymer." The Assistant District Attorney spoke in
some haste. "You may retire, sir," and, as Clymer turned to vacate the
witness box, he addressed the presiding judge.

Clymer did not catch his remarks as, on stepping down, he was
button-holed by a man whose entrance had occurred a few minutes
before through the swing door which gave exit from the space reserved
for witnesses and lawyers into the body of the court room.
"Sit over here a second," the newcomer said in an undertone, indicating
the long bench under the window. "Has Miss McIntyre been here?"
"Miss McIntyre - here?" Clymer stared in amazement at his questioner.
"No, certainly not."
"Don't be so positive," retorted the lawyer heatedly, his color rising at
the other's incredulous tone. "Helen McIntyre telephoned me to meet
her, and - by Jove, here she comes," as a slight stir at the back of the
court room caused him to glance in that direction.
A gray-haired patrolman, cap in hand, was in the lead of the small
procession which filed up the aisle, and Clymer gazed in astonishment
at Helen McIntyre and her twin sister, Barbara. What had brought them
at that hour to the police court?
The court room was filled with men, both white and black, while a
dozen or more slatternly negro women were seated here and there. The
Assistant District Attorney's plea for a postponement of the Sylvester
case on the ground of the absence of an important witness and the
granting of his plea was entirely lost on the majority of those in the
court room, their attention being wholly centered on Helen McIntyre
and Barbara, whose bearing and clothes spoke of a fashionable and
prosperous world to which nearly all present were utterly foreign.
Barbara, sensitive to the concentrated regard which their