from him the fact that I was married to a man with a criminal record.
The liquor interests, particularly certain distillers who wished to injure Dr. Gantry as one of the greatest foes of the booze traffic, came to me and paid me to attack the character of Dr. Gantry, and in a moment which I shall never cease to regret, I assented, and got my husband to help me by forging letters purporting to come from Dr. Gantry.
The reason why I am making this confession is this: I went to Dr. Gantry, told him what I was going to do, and demanded money, planning to double-cross my employers, the booze interests. Dr. Gantry said, "Sister, I am sorry you are going to do this wrong thing, not on my behalf, because it is a part of the Christian life to bear any crosses, but on behalf of your own soul. Do as seems best to you, Sister, but before you go further, will you kneel and pray with me?"
When I heard Dr. Gantry praying, I suddenly repented and went home and with my own hands typed this statement which I swear to be the absolute truth.
When Hettie had signed, and her husband had signed a corroboration, Mannie Silverhorn observed, "I think you've overdone it a little, T. J. Too good to be true. Still, I suppose your idea was that Hettie's such a fool that she'd slop over in her confession."
"That's the idea, Mannie."
"Well, maybe you're right. Now if you'll give me the two hundred bucks, I'll see these birds are out of town tonight, and maybe I'll give 'em some of the two hundred."
"Maybe!" said Mr. Rigg.
"Maybe!" said Mr. Silverhorn.
"God!" cried Elmer Gantry, and suddenly he was disgracing himself with tears.
That was Saturday morning.
The afternoon papers had front-page stories reproducing Hettie's confession, joyfully announcing Elmer's innocence,
