Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

152 umes now long vanished in smoke and ashes. Both men avoided religious discus- sions, and found enough purely literary battle-fields on which to meet in argument to make their evenings interesting. Father Quinn discovered magazines with articles signed by Victor Kent, and read them with whole-hearted admiration. And he was never weary of talking to Flora about the explorer himself. Arrangements for the trial were rushed, and it was set for ten o’clock in the morn- ing of the following Wednesday. By the afternoon of Tuesday many outsiders had arrived in the town. They were a mixed lot—trappers and miners to whom the event would be the most thrilling enter- tainment of the year, perhaps the only break in the long months of monotony. Two news-thirsty reporters from Toronto papers were also in evidence, sociable young men who talked with every one and gave ear to every rumor afloat. Their no- blest efforts failed to gain them an inter- view with either the prisoner or his wife, but the stories that they patched together from the talk of many ready tongues kept them writing far into the night. Alexander Dodson and Lee Smith were not present in the parlor of the hotel that evening, but they missed very little of the animated talk that went on there. They were good listeners, and what they heard in their room overhead seemed to interest them deeply. What Archie McKay had to say was unintelligible to them, but his voice, vibrant with suppressed excitement, ran on intermittently till midnight and the departure of the last visitor. — The mill-owner was stirring up trouble, but. his most passionate efforts seemed in- capable of rousing the dormant mob spirit to the point of insane action. The men were not averse to taking justice into their own hands should the judge fail to do his duty, and they were not the type to mind a bit of a rough-house, but they knew that there were four well-armed and well-trained men stationed in the deputy sheriff’s house, and the business wore too sinister an aspect for them. So at last they grew: angry with McKay, and either ignored him or cursed him to his face. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Early in the morning huge fires were kindled in the three square sheet-iron stoves that heated the court-house. It was a dark, windy day, threatening storm, and little light came through the small, heavily frost- ed windows. Bracket lamps set at inter- vals along the unplastered walls were de- pended on for illumination, and their yellow light battling with the white glimmers of daylight seemed to add a little to the warmth of the room. Rows of wooden benches waited blankly for the opening of the doors. The crowd that filled them when the hour of the trial arrived was a cross- section of northern pioneer life, with a scanty dilution of urban society supplied by Dodson and Smith and the few men whom the sensational nature of the crime had drawn like a magnet from their civi- lized stamping-grounds. _ Judge Robson—a tall, loosely built man with large mouth and nose and a superflu- ity of skin upon his face that bagged and wrinkled amazingly—entered the building, and seated himself at the desk that occu- pied the center of the small platform. He was supported on the right and left by Inspector ‘Dunne and Captain Farley. At his entrance the murmur of voices and rest- less moving of feet and shifting of benches died away to expectant silence. The wit- nesses had already taken their ‘seats on the chairs reserved for them, and the jury, a rough-looking dozen, were in their place and doing their best to emulate the dignity of the judge and officers of the court. The side door by which the judge had entered opened again, and Victor was led in by two constables. His expression was grave but undismayed, and his eyes went unhesitatingly to Flora where she sat be- side her father. among the witnesses. She answered his regard with a brave smile, though her cheeks were pale and her clasped hands moved nervously. She looked often at Victor, and sometimes her glance followed his among the crowd. Always when their glances met, their love pro- claimed itself for all the world to see. In a quick, intent survey he searched the. faces which peered up at him from the benches with such curiosity. The hard line of his lips twitched for a moment to a smile. He COMmiclboo SS C©