IT was in the heat of midsummer that Judge Hollis walked into Caleb’s
inner office.
“Caleb,” he said, “I’m hanged if I haven’t changed the color of my coat
and come to your opinion. After this I’m for Yarnall.”
Caleb smiled, leaning back wearily in his chair and glancing
unconsciously at Sammy, the innocent cause of much scandal in Eshcol,
who lay asleep beside Shot on the floor, his chubby arms around the
dog’s neck.
The smoke of the two great conventions was still in the air. Two
weeks before the Republicans had peacefully and hopelessly nominated
Peter Mahan for Governor, and the Democrats, after a deadlock and a
disgraceful collapse of the opposition, had nominated Aylett. Every
politician in the State knew that it had cost the Eaton faction nearly
two hundred thousand dollars. There had been a storm of indignation,
and Yarnall had come back and put his case in the hands of the
Republican lawyer, Caleb Trench! The indignation and chagrin of the
older Democratic lawyers added nothing to the beauty of the situation,
but Caleb had grasped it silently and was dealing with it. In ten days
he had forced the Grand Jury to indict both Aylett and Eaton, along
with half a dozen of their lieutenants, and the hour of the great trial
was approaching. Feeling ran so high that there were threats on both
sides, and it was a common saying that men went armed.
The judge banged his broad-brimmed Panama down on the table. “Caleb,”
he said grimly, “how much more packing is there to come out of this?”
This time Trench laughed. “Not a great deal, Judge,” he replied easily,
“I’ve got most of it out. We’re going to prove both our cases against
Aylett and Eaton. Aylett’s used more money, but Eaton has intimidated.
The convention was packed. They threw in Eaton as a third candidate
to split Yarnall’s strength; they knew all the investors in his
get-rich-quick schemes would follow him, and they’d been warned to do
it. I’ve got the evidence. Of course, when Yarnall got them deadlocked,
even with that break in his strength, Eaton withdrew and, throwing all
his votes suddenly to Aylett, nominated him on the fifth ballot.”
The judge scowled at him from under his heavy brows. “What’s this about
the Todd test case?” he growled.
“Aaron Todd got hold of one of the delegates and found out that he’d
been offered a bribe by Eaton. Todd suggested to him to take it and get
the matter witnessed; it was done and will be used in court.”
“Damned shabby!” said the judge.
Caleb smiled. “I call it a harder name, Judge,” he said simply. “I
shan’t use it, but, after all, I’m only the junior counsel.”
The old man looked at him over his spectacles. “I understand that
Yarnall has picked you out as a kind of red flag to the bull, and means
to wave you in Eaton’s face.”
“So he does, I fancy,” said Trench, “but we’re going to call Judge
Hollis.”
The judge stared; a dull red crept up to his hair. He had felt the
slight when Caleb was chosen, and he suspected that the younger man
knew it. Yet the temptation to be in the thick of the fray was like the
taste of fine wine in the mouth of the thirsty. “By gum, sir,” he said,
“I don’t believe I’ll do it.”
“Yes, you will,” said Trench decisively, “we need you. Besides, Mr.
Yarnall has written a formal request to you: we want influential men on
our side. We’ve got a clear case, but we want the people to understand
that we’re not demagogues. And”--Trench suddenly used all his
persuasive powers, which were great--“Judge, I lack your experience.”
It was a touch of modesty that went to the judge’s heart. He took
Diana’s chair--Caleb always called it that in his heart--and they fell
to discussing the situation and the most salient points in the case,
for it had divided the State and it would affect the election of the
United States Senator later.
Meanwhile, Sammy slept, with his yellow curls mingling with Shot’s
yellow hair; they were boon companions and no one troubled the child.
Once or twice Zeb Bartlett had come, bent on making trouble, but he
had been sent away. Sammy found his new home wholly desirable; Aunt
Charity was even growing fond of him, and Dr. Cheyney brought him toys.
But between Caleb and himself there was a complete understanding;
the child followed him about as patiently as did Shot, and as
unquestioningly. In some mysterious way he had grasped the meaning of
his adoption, and he understood the silent, preoccupied man as well
as the dog did. With both it was an instinct that recognized kindness
and protection. Left to amuse himself from babyhood, Sammy made little
trouble. He would lie on his stomach by the hour working a toy train of
cars to and fro in one spot, and he had destroyed only one brief which
had been left within his reach.
Judge Hollis talked for over an hour, going over the case which was
to come up before Judge Ladd in ten days. He saw that Trench had
prepared every inch of it, and that he was chiefly wanted as a notable
figurehead, yet he was nothing loath to be the figurehead. When he
had fully grasped the evidence, and saw before him one of the biggest
cases on record in the State courts, he threw back his head like an old
war-horse snuffing the battle afar.
“By the Lord Harry!” he said, slapping his knee, “we’ll whip them
to kingdom come, Caleb, and shear the sheep at that!” Then his eye
suddenly lighted on the sleeping child, and his shaggy brows dropped;
he stooped over and looked at him, thrusting out his underlip.
“Caleb,” he said, “send that brat to St. Vincent’s.”
Caleb, who was making notes, looked up. “Why?” he asked dryly.
The judge growled. “You’re a tarnation fool!” he replied. “I’m not
asking whose child he is! What I say is--send him packing.”
Caleb turned and glanced at the child, and the judge, watching him, was
astonished at the softening of his face. “Poor little devil,” he said
quietly, “I fancy he’ll stay as long as I do, Judge Hollis. I’ve had no
home, I’ve been in desperate straits, now I’ve got this roof. That dog
was a stray, so is the child--they’re welcome.”
The judge was silent for a long while. Then he drew a pattern on the
floor with his cane. “Caleb,” he said, more kindly, “that kid has
raised Cain for you. Jinny Eaton is blowing the news to the four
winds of heaven, and everybody believes it. You might as well hang an
albatross around your neck. If you’re not the child’s father--by gum,
sir, you might as well be!”
Caleb set his teeth hard, and the light came into his eyes,--the light
that some people dreaded. “Judge,” he said sternly, “I’m accountable
to no man, neither am I a coward. Mrs. Eaton may say what she pleases;
being a woman, she is beyond my reach.”
The judge got up and drove his hat down hard on his head with his
favorite gesture, as though he put the lid on to suppress the
impending explosion. “By gum!” he said, and walked out.
That evening Caleb found Sammy asleep in the old leather armchair with
his yellow head on the arm, and he snatched him out of it, in spite of
Sammy’s vigorous protests, and put him to bed. He never thought that
Diana’s arms might have held the child as pitifully, for Diana had a
noble heart.
Then followed the greatest case of disputed nomination ever contested
west of the Mississippi. The old court-house was packed to its limit,
and there were one or two hardy spirits who climbed the tree outside
and listened through the open windows. Feeling ran so high when Aaron
Todd testified that there was a column of militia in Townhouse Square.
It was hot; they were cutting oats in the fields and the rye was nearly
ripe, while all the grapes were coloring like new wine.
Aylett and Eaton fought step by step, inch by inch, and the court sat
from early morning until candle-light, yet it was three weeks before it
went to the jury, and they had been twenty-nine days getting that jury!
Two brilliant lawyers from the East spoke for the defense, and Judge
Hollis opened for the plaintiff. It was afternoon; the judge had made
an able if somewhat grandiloquent plea, and the court-house was so
thronged that men stood on the window-sills, shutting out the view
from the trees. Caleb Trench closed the case for Yarnall, and men,
remembering his Cresset speech, had refused to leave the court-room
for dinner, fearful of losing their seats--or their standing room.
Eaton alone left abruptly when he began to speak.
Trench had a peculiarly rich voice, low-toned but singularly clear; he
used no gestures, and his attitudes were always easy and unembarrassed
when he forgot himself in his work. His personality counted, but it was
neither that nor his eloquence which held the court-room spellbound;
it was the force of his logic, the power to get down to the root of
things, to tear away all illusions and show them the machine as it had
existed for nearly twenty years. Incidentally, as it seemed to some,
he showed them, beyond all doubt, the fraud and intimidation that had
renominated Governor Aylett.
The lights were burning in the court-room and outside in the square
when Judge Ladd charged the jury. Not a man left his place as the
jurors filed out, except Trench. He went to send a message to Aunt
Charity about his two waifs at home, who must not go supperless. He
was still out, and Judge Hollis sent for him hastily when the jury
came back in twenty minutes. They brought in a verdict of guilty
as indicted; the illegal use of money, corruption in office, and
intimidation were the charges against Aylett and Eaton and ten others.
At half-past nine that night the militia had to charge in the
court-house square to disperse the crowd.