Argosy, Vol. 122, No. 1 — page 135: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE HOUSE odors of the law—smells of dust and var- nish and leather-bound books, and the odoriferous ghosts of all who had ever gath- - ered there, drawn by curiosity, or greed or tragic necessity. The room was old and shabby with long service. Its hard seats and chairs were worn shiny, and shiny and scarred were its rails and baseboards and furni- ture; but the heavy, dull-red hangings that draped its windows were thick with dust and faded, and gave off a little odor of their own, a taint of dry rot. The majesty of the law paraded in this room. It was ostentatious in the bailiffs, dull of face, curtly directing the general public to its place. It reflected from the formal dress of counsel, and shone in their frowning glances and hurried, nervous con- sultations. Even the younger men and boys, the messengers who hurried back and forth with bundles of papers and leather brief ‘cases filled with more papers, showed it by their elaborate, stealthy bustling and their hushed voices. A court stenographer pointing a half dozen pencils to needle fineness. exhibited the face of a funeral mute, and even the minute clerk, who had entered, chubby and smiling, settled before his desk with sud- den, incongruous severity. Majesty of the law had affected the citi- zens called for jury duty, who sat waiting, ill at ease and most of them probably wor- rying about their own private interests neg- lected by peremptory command. The same majesty made the audience shuffling among the seats ill at ease so that they spoke in whispers and stopped, frightened in mid- sentence, and rolled uneasy eyes abou them. Largely this audience was made up of those who had dealt with Frank La Salle, to their sorrow. They were the humble, the shabby, and often the ignorant. In them the desire for home was as instinctive as with the mating birds, and their desire made them easy victims of La Salle’s schemes. Poor, bewildered dupes; they had traded their sweaty dollars for his glittering prom- ises; promises that always danced on ahead until they wore themselves weary in pur- suit. Now they were drawn by the novel ‘hope. OF FRAUD. 125 promise of seeing the despoiler spoiled; of witnessing justice done to the man who tricked them. They breathed hard with Dull eyes were cruelly bright with expectation as they waited for the show to begin. Only the early comers found seats. When the space set aside for the public was taken, others backed up in the tiled corridor beyond the big doors, and stood there patiently—waiting. La Salle saw them when, with Barr, he came into the court, and he made no mis- take in reading the meaning of the glance they turned on him. He pressed his lips in a firmer line, and pushed through with a slight exaggeration of his usual indifference. But the knowledge of that concentrated stare following him as he went, was not pleasant. Devree, his hair ruffled, his eyes gleaming, earnestly behind the spectacles, was halted as he bustled through this crowd. He rec- ognized Jean Temple and Diana, and hur- riedly pulled them into a niche where they could talk together. There was more color in Jean’s face than he had ever seen. Her eyes sparkled, and she carried herself with a new confidence. Jean had come to a red-letter day, the . culmination of her honest hatred of La Salle and all his works. With an intensity equal to that of her love for Harvey Temple she longed for La Salle’s overthrow, and rejoiced in the prospect. Diana’s emotion was more complex. She was both hopeful and afraid of the issue, and the glance she gave Devree was evasive. “Gordon,” Jean exclaimed, “ We can’t find a seat. Isn’t there some way—” “Certainly there’s some way,’ Devree sputtered. ‘Get you inside the rail— place set aside for witnesses. Fix you up. Of course!” “Yow re going to win, Gordon. surely going to win?” “Going to try, Jean! Looks like our case was a good one—” He paused and cleared his throat significantly. His eyes asked a favor of Jean and, understanding, she moved a little aside. He bent toward Diana, speaking low and hurriedly, his trembling hand on her arm: You’re cComiclbooks.com