Oil Forever

There was a new judge. There was a new jury. There was a certain amount of new evidence. But it was the same old case--the U. S. v. Oilman Harry Ford Sinclair for alleged conspiracy to defraud.

The same old Teapot Dome hung upon legal pothooks. The same old stories were expected from the defense: how, in 1921, the Navy Department wanted oil storage tanks in case of War; how, in 1922, Oilman Sinclair took the Teapot Dome lease for "patriotic" as well as private reasons; how he invested in Liberty Bonds for like reasons, and gave wads of these bonds to Albert Bacon Fall, the Secretary of the Interior who leased him Teapot Dome, not as a gift but to buy an interest in Fall's ranch in New Mexico. There was the same Fall son-in-law, Rancher Mahlon T. Everhart, to testify how this ranch transaction was made.

The chief differences between this trial and Oilman Sinclair's last one were: 1) that Fall was not a codefendant, owing to illness; 2) that Son-in-law Everhart was now obliged to talk, a Federal law having been changed for his benefit; and 3) that the jury was locked up, as the result of Oilman Sinclair having had his last jury, which was left at large, followed about by private detectives.

The Judge. The judge before whom Oilman Sinclair last started to be tried in the Supreme Court of the District of Columbia, was Justice Frederick Lincoln Siddons of the famed theatrical family of that name (TIME, Nov. 14). Justice Siddons lost much prestige through having to declare a mistrial that might not have occurred had he locked up the jury. The new judge, Justice Jennings Bailey, set out to conduct a different sort of trial by examining the talesmen himself, and curtly overruling many an elaborate objection by Sinclair's lawyers. Moreover, he announced that court would convene at the unheard of hour of 9 a. m., and served notice on the Sinclair lawyers that special pleading would not be permitted.

The Jury. Propped up in their box like boys at a spelling-bee, the new jury gazed with undisguised wonder at chunky Oilman Sinclair, whose broad face expressed confident determination. "Any time the truth comes out it is bound to help," was still Sinclair's attitude, but he was pale now as well as jaunty.

The jurors also gazed at the Mesdames Sinclair, the defendant's wife and mother. They seldom miss a day at his trial. The wife entered court the first day of this trial wearing orchids.

They were simple folk, the jurors, but all of them were able and accustomed to read newspapers. Justice Bailey saw to it this time that they were no collection of citizens so dormant that they had no knowledge of the Oil Scandals. He excused only those talesmen who said they had formed a firm opinion as to Sinclair's guilt or innocence. The twelve that were sworn were three grocers, a steamfitter, a repair man, an auto salesman, two clerks, a merchant, an expressman, a broker, a railroad agent--all men. Though few of them knew it, all these men had been investigated and watched by Sinclair detectives before being sworn as his jury. While they were being picked, Sinclair, surrounded by his lawyers, ticked off their names on the sleuths' report and scrutinized their faces.

The Lawyers. Lawyer Wright, first spokesman for the defense, is not Sinclair's chief council. That office is still held by Martin W. Littleton, the plump, fastidious, white-wooled Manhattanite to whom Senator Walsh lately suggested that he might well resign since his client had deceived him about important particulars of the case before the last trial. Lawyer Littleton's reply to Senator Walsh was: "Meddlesome Matties!" If it is true that Sinclair tried to get Lawyer Frank J. Hogan, the man who got Oilman Doheny acquitted, to replace Lawyer Littleton this time, Lawyer Littleton gave no sign of hurt feelings. When the new trial opened, there he sat, slightly apart from the rest, like an opera tenor awaiting his cue. Lawyer George P. Hoover, a subordinate, introduced him in full court to Justice Bailey. Lawyer Littleton stood up and made as deep a bow as his comfortable figure would permit. Then he sat down again, pursing his lips and looking at the jury with amiable indulgence. The trial began.

Evidence. Lawyer Owen J. Roberts (prosecution) showed that Fall visited Manhattan for two days in February, 1922, just prior to receiving Sinclair's bid for the lease. Sinclair was in Manhattan. Oddly, Sinclair's bid met the Interior Department's specifications for the lease almost exactly. Did Fall write Sinclair's bid?

Lawyer Roberts showed that Sinclair valued the lease at $100,000,000 before he got it; that he made $8,000,000 by stock manipulations immediately after getting the lease. These facts were introduced in anticipation of a defense story that Sinclair leased Teapot Dome "reluctantly."

Son-in-law Everhart testified that $304,000 was the total of "loans" and "purchase money" passed from Sinclair to Fall.

Several witnesses, including Senator Kendrick of Wyoming, President Amos Leonidas Beaty of the Texas Oil Co. and Edward Clingan Finney, Assistant Secretary of the Interior, gave testimony showing how Fall kept the Sinclair lease secret, even from his chief lieutenant, in such a way as to bar out other bidders.

At the close of the week, on the trial's fifth day, the Government rested its rapidly presented case. The defense, elaborate and high-priced, immediately began its presentation and was expected to take about 10 days or two weeks at it.