THE LAST DITCH

It was a mark of the later and larger development of David Kent that he

was able to keep his head in the moment of catastrophes. In boyhood his

hair had been a brick-dust red, and having the temperament which belongs

of right to the auburn-hued, his first impulse was to face about and make

a personal matter of the legal robbery with Judge MacFarlane.

Happily for all concerned, Hunnicott's better counsels prevailed, and when

the anger fit passed Kent found himself growing cool and determined.

Hunnicott was crestfallen and disposed to be apologetic; but Kent did him

justice.

"Don't blame yourself: there was nothing else you could have done. Have

you a stenographer in your office?"

"Yes."

"A good one?"

"It's young Perkins: you know him."

"He'll do. 'Phone him to run down to the station and get what telegrams

there are for me, and we'll talk as we go."

Once free of the Court House, Kent began a rapid-fire of questions.

"Where is Judge MacFarlane stopping?"

"At the Mid-Continent."

"Have you any idea when he intends leaving town?"

"No; but he will probably take the first train. He never stays here an

hour longer than he has to after adjournment."

"That would be the Flyer east at six o'clock. Is he going east?"

"Come to think of it, I believe he is. Somebody said he was going to Hot

Springs. He's in miserable health."

Kent saw more possibilities, and worse, and quickened his pace a little.

"I hope your young man won't let the grass grow under his feet," he said.

"The minutes between now and six o'clock are worth days to us."

"What do we do?" asked Hunnicott, willing to take a little lesson in

practice as he ran.

"The affidavits I have brought with me and the telegrams which are waiting

at the station must convince MacFarlane that he has made a mistake. We

shall prepare a motion for the discharge of the receiver and for the

vacation of the order appointing him, and ask the judge to set an early

day for the hearing on the merits of the case. He can't refuse."

Hunnicott shook his head.

"It has been all cut and dried from 'way back," he objected. "They won't

let you upset it at the last moment."

"We'll give them a run for their money," said Kent. "A good bit of it

depends upon Perkins' speed as a stenographer."

As it befell, Perkins did not prove a disappointment, and by five o'clock

Kent was in the lobby of the Mid-Continent, sending his card up to the

judge's room. Word came back that the judge was in the café fortifying the

inner man in preparation for his journey, and Kent did not stand upon

ceremony. From the archway of the dining-room he marked down his man at a

small table in the corner, and went to him at once, plunging promptly into

the matter in hand.

"The exigencies of the case must plead my excuse for intruding upon you

here, Judge MacFarlane," he began courteously. "But I have been told that

you were leaving town----"

The judge waved him down with a deprecatory fork.

"Court is adjourned, Mr. Kent, and I must decline to discuss the case _ex

parte_. Why did you allow it to go by default?"

"That is precisely what I am here to explain," said Kent, suavely. "The

time allowed us was very short; and a series of accidents----"

Again the judge interrupted.

"A court can hardly take cognizance of accidents, Mr. Kent. Your local

attorney was on the ground and he had the full benefit of the delay."

"I know," was the patient rejoinder. "Technically, your order is

unassailable. None the less, a great injustice has been done, as we are

prepared to prove. I am not here to ask you to reopen the case at your

dinner-table, but if you will glance over these papers I am sure you will

set an early day for the hearing upon the merits."

Judge MacFarlane forced a gray smile.

"You vote yea and nay in the same breath, Mr. Kent. If I should examine

your papers, I should be reopening the case at my dinner-table. You shall

have your hearing in due course."

"At chambers?" said Kent. "We shall be ready at any moment; we are ready

now, in point of fact."

"I can not say as to that. My health is very precarious, and I am under a

physician's orders to take a complete rest for a time. I am sorry if the

delay shall work a hardship to the company you represent; but under the

circumstances, with not even an affidavit offered by your side, it is your

misfortune. And now I shall have to ask you to excuse me. It lacks but a

few minutes of my train time."

The hotel porter was droning out the call for the east-bound Flyer, and

Kent effaced himself while Judge MacFarlane was paying his bill and making

ready for his departure. But when the judge set out to walk to the

station, Kent walked with him. There were five squares to be measured, and

for five squares he hung at MacFarlane's elbow and the plea he made should

have won him a hearing. Yet the judge remained impassible, and at the end

of the argument turned him back in a word to his starting point.

"I can not recall the order at this time, if I would, Mr. Kent; neither

can I set a day for the hearing on the merits. What has been done was done

in open court and in the presence of your attorney, who offered no

evidence in contradiction of the allegations set forth in the plaintiff's

amended petition, although they were supported by more than a dozen

affidavits; and it can not be undone in the streets. Since you have not

improved your opportunities, you must abide the consequences. The law can

not be hurried."

They had reached the station and the east-bound train was whistling for

Gaston. Kent's patience was nearly gone, and the auburn-hued temperament

was clamoring hotly for its innings.

"This vacation of yours, Judge MacFarlane: how long is it likely to last?"

he inquired, muzzling his wrath yet another moment.

"I can not say; if I could I might be able to give you a more definite

answer as to the hearing on the merits. But my health is very miserable,

as I have said. If I am able to return shortly, I shall give you the

hearing at chambers at an early date."

"And if not?"

"If not, I am afraid it will have to go over to the next term of court."

"Six months," said Kent; and then his temper broke loose. "Judge

MacFarlane, it is my opinion, speaking as man to man, that you are a

scoundrel. I know what you have done, and why you have done it. Also, I

know why you are running away, now that it is done. So help me God, I'll

bring you to book for it if I have to make a lifetime job of it! It's all

right for your political backers; they are thieves and bushwhackers, and

they make no secret of it. But there is one thing worse than a trickster,

and that is a trickster's tool!"

For the moment while the train was hammering in over the switches they

stood facing each other fiercely, all masks flung aside, each after his

kind; the younger man flushed and battle-mad; the elder white, haggard,

tremulous. Kent did not guess, then or ever, how near he came to death.

Two years earlier a judge had been shot and maimed on a western circuit

and since then, MacFarlane had taken a coward's precaution. Here was a man

that knew, and while he lived the cup of trembling might never be put

aside.

It was the conductor's cry of "All aboard!" that broke the homicidal

spell. Judge MacFarlane started guiltily, shook off the angry eye-grip of

his accuser, and went to take his place in the Pullman. One minute later

the east-bound train was threading its way out among the switches of the

lower yard, and Kent had burst into the telegraph office to wire the

volcanic news to his chief.

The Grafters · 第 22 / 62 题