The Case of the Howling Dog

"And," said Perry Mason, "may I ask that you write something on a sheet of paper, so that your handwriting may be compared?"

The witness hesitated.

"This is highly irregular, Your Honor," said Claude Drumm, getting to his feet.

Perry Mason shook his head.

"The witness," he said, "has testified as to the handwriting of Mrs. Cartright. I have the right to crossexamine her, by showing her other handwritings, and ask her opinion as to the identity of those handwritings, compared with the writing in the note."

"I think you are right," said Judge Markham. "The objection will be overruled."

Thelma Benton took a sheet of paper, wrote swift lines upon it.

Perry Mason examined the writing and nodded.

"I think we will both concede," he said, "that that is entirely different from the handwriting which appears on the letter which Mrs. Cartright left behind."

"Naturally," said the witness in a tone of cool sarcasm.

Judge Markham fidgeted uneasily.

"It has approached the hour of the usual afternoon recess," he said. "I believe you stated, Counselor, that you had no objection to an interruption of the crossexamination for the usual afternoon recess?"

"None whatever, Your Honor."

"Very well, the Court will take a recess for ten minutes. The jury will remember the admonition of the Court, not to converse about the case or permit it to be discussed in your presence."

The judge arose from his chair, flashed Perry Mason a curiously speculative gaze, then walked into chambers.

Perry Mason looked at his watch and frowned.

"Go over to the window, Frank," he said to Frank Everly, "and see if you can notice any unusual activity on the part of the newsboys at the corner."

The clerk walked to the window of the courtroom, looked down on the street.

Perry Mason, ignoring the concentrated gaze of the curious spectators, slumped down in his chair and bowed his head in thought. His strong, capable fingers made little drumming motions on the arm of the chair.

Frank Everly turned from the window, came running back toward the counsel table.

"There's a lot of excitement down there," he said. "There's been a truck distributing papers. It looks like an extra. The boys are calling them."

Perry Mason looked at the clock and smiled.

"Go on down and pick up a couple of the newspapers," he said.

He turned his head and nodded to Bessie Forbes.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Forbes," he said, "that you've had such an ordeal, but I don't think it will be long now."

She looked at him with puzzled eyes.

"Frankly," she said, "the talk that I overheard this noon was that the case was going very badly against me."

The deputy sheriff who had her in charge moved slightly forward in order to be at her side. Claude Drumm, who had been smoking a cigarette in the corridor, came stalking back into the courtroom, his importance entirely reestablished in his own mind. He strode with welltailored efficiency, a dignified superiority toward the criminal attorney who must needs make his living from the trial of cases, rather than bask in the dignity of a monthly salary check, issued with the clocklike regularity with which government officials expend the money of taxpayers.

Frank Everly came bursting into the courtroom with two newspapers, his eyes wide, his lips sagging open.

"They've found the bodies!" he shouted, and rushed toward Perry Mason.

Perry Mason picked up one of the newspapers and held it so that the startled eyes of Claude Drumm could see the headlines.

"Millionaire's Mansion is Murder Farm," screamed in glaring headlines across the entire front of the page. Lower, and in slightly smaller type, appeared the words: "Bodies of Cartright and wife discovered under floor of Forbes' garage."

Claude Drumm sat bolt erect, stared with bulging eyes. A bailiff rushed into the courtroom carrying a newspaper, and went on a half run into the judge's chambers. A spectator entered the courtroom with an open newspaper, babbling excitedly. Within a matter of seconds, he was the center of a circle that listened with bated breath.

Claude Drumm abruptly reached forward.

"May I see that newspaper?" he snapped.

"Delighted," said Perry Mason, and handed him the second newspaper.

Thelma Benton walked swiftly over to Claude Drumm.

"I've got to see you a moment," she said.

Perry Mason glanced through the account in the newspaper, passed it over to Frank Everly.

"Go ahead and read it, Frank," he said. "Looks like The Chronicle had a scoop."

"But why didn't the officers know about it?"

"They probably used friendly deputies and kept it sewed up until they could get a paper on the street. If it had hit the general office at headquarters, every newspaper in the city would have been onto it."

Perry Mason looked at the clock, then arose, stretched, yawned, and sauntered into the chambers of Judge Markham.

The judge sat at his table reading the newspaper account, with eyes that held an expression of puzzled bewilderment.