"'Dismiss this suit--withdraw from this case--and I'll withdraw from all candidacy on any ticket! That goes!' He said it savage.

"'Do you mean it?' says the Judge, and Hod he says he does. 'I've got reasons for not wanting this case to go on,' says he. 'It's politics brought you here, Judge, and I know that, but it's mighty good politics you'll be playing not never to try this case at all. Drop it, Judge.

Politics against politics; you win. Lawyer against lawyer, _I_ win. But I pay the biggest price, and you know it mighty well, even if you're a poor guesser why I'm doing this. Since you're getting all the best of the bargain, is it a bargain, then?'

"Henderson he thinks for a while, and says he at last, 'Anyhow, I never knew you to break your word,' says he.

"'No,' says Hod, simple, 'I don't do that,'

"'I'll go you!' says the Judge, sudden, and he sticks out his hand. 'I shake politically, Judge,' says Hod. 'No more; but it's enough. We don't neither of us need explain no more,' And _d.a.m.n me_! If they didn't quit right there, where it seemed to me a whole lot of explaining what they meant 'd a-ben a right good thing for me anyways, for I couldn't gether what it was all about.

"But I heard the whole business--and there wasn't no fight, nor nothing, just only that talk like I said, and I don't know nothing of _why_ they done it, I only know what they done. _That's_ why there wasn't no fight, no trial after all--and us setting there that long! I want to say, some things is beginning to look mighty mysterious to me. But I ain't saying what I think. You'll see."

Hod Brooks was first to address the court. He stood, a tall and hulking figure, one hand upon the shoulder of Dieudonne Lane--stood in such fashion as in part to shield Don's mother from the gaze alike of court and audience.

"Your Honor," said he, and his face now was very grave; "I a.s.sume the Court has been in recess. After conference with my learned brother I believe that he has some statement to make to the Court."

He turned now toward Henderson, who straightened up.

"May it please the Court," he began, "I find it inc.u.mbent upon me to withdraw as counsel in this case. My learned brother has lived up to the full traditions of courtesy in our profession, but I will only say that I have learned certain facts which render it impossible for me to represent this client properly in this cause. There would seem to have been certain justifying circ.u.mstances, not at first put before me, which leave me more reluctant to prosecute this defendant. I shall counsel my client to withdraw his suit."

Blackman in his surprise scarcely heard the deep voice of Don Lane's attorney as he spoke in turn.

"May it please the Court," said he gently, "it is the best function of an attorney to counsel restraint and moderation; it is most honorable of any great counsel to decline any case which does not enlist his full convictions. It is the duty of all of us to uphold the actual peace and actual dignity of this community. I have never entertained a fuller respect for my learned brother than I have at this moment. I withdraw what I said about his portrait yonder--and may say I do not blame any man for being well content even in the offer of an honor which I cannot and do not contemplate for myself--the great honor of the candidacy for the Senate of the United States. It is my own function, none the less, to state that there is no cause why my client should be longer detained.

He and others, these witnesses, are virtually restrained of their liberty. I therefore move the dismissal of this case. I think these people all ought to go home. I further suggest that this court adjourn--if this latter suggestion be fully within my own province."

He turned an inquiring gaze upon Tarbush, city marshal, who by this time had fairly sunken down into the depths of his coat collar.

"How about the plaintiff?" said Blackman, turning a hesitating glance upon Judge Henderson, who seemed much relieved by what his opponent in fact and in _posse_ had said.

"There is other counsel for him," said Judge Henderson, "but if he will take my own advice, he will drop the case now and at this point."

"What does the plaintiff say?" Blackman bent an inquiring gaze on the battered visage of Ephraim Adamson. The latter lifted up a swollen eyelid with thumb and finger, and turned a still confused gaze upon court and counsel. His reply, crestfallen though it was, brought a t.i.tter from the audience.

"I guess I'm satisfied," said he.

Blackman looked from one to the other, and then back to the faces of the disappointed audience of the citizens of Spring Valley.

"Order in the court!" exclaimed Blackman, J. P., fiercely. "This court is adjourned!" He spoke with a certain disgust, as of one aware of partic.i.p.ation in a fiasco.

With a rush and a surge the room began to empty. Judge Henderson departed, well in advance, looking straight ahead, and acknowledging none of the greetings which met him. He evidently was above such work, even disgusted with the whole affair. Hod Brooks remained, his curious glance still riveted on Don Lane.

Don stood hesitating before the table of justice. He had not known before that his burly counsel had any acquaintance with his mother, but he saw plainly the glance of recognition which pa.s.sed between them.

Aurora Lane and Miss Julia waited until the stair was clear, but as Don would have followed them, Hod Brooks beckoned to him, in his blue eyes a sort of puzzled wonderment, a surprise that seemed half conviction.

"I thank you, Mr. Brooks," said Don Lane, turning to his counsel. He wondered curiously why the big man should seem so red of face and so perturbed. "What can I do for you--I have not much----"

The great face of Hod Brooks flushed yet more. "Don't talk to me about pay, my boy," said he--"don't talk to me about anything. Wait till things straighten out a little. The prosecution's dropped. That's all--or that's enough. Now, listen. I knew you when I saw you come in here! They told me you were dead, but I knew you when first my eyes fell on you. You're like your mother. I've known your mother for years--I think a lot of her and her friend Miss Julia, don't you see? It's strange news to me you are alive, but you are, and that's enough. I must be going now. I'll see you and your mother both. But before I do, just come with me, for I've a little more counsel to give you--it won't cost you anything, and I think it will do some good."

He beckoned Don to join him once more in the hall, and what he said required but a moment. An instant later, and old Brooks had hurried down the stair. A part of his words to Don had been overheard by old Silas, but the latter could only wonder what it all might mean.

"Aaron," said he, "I ain't no detecative, and don't claim to be, but now, some day if anything should happen--well, I ain't sayin', but I know what I know, and some day, some day, Aaron, I may have to tell."

Brooks joined Aurora Lane and Miss Julia and walked with them along the shady street. They walked in silence, Aurora Lane still staring straight ahead, icy cold. It was not until they three halted at her little gate that she could find voice.

"How can we thank you?" said she. "How can we pay?"

The deep color came into the big man's moody face once more. He waved a hand. "You mustn't talk of that," said he. "I reckon I owe you that much and more--a lot more. I'm not done yet. I've done what I thought was right. But as for the case, I didn't fight it, and I didn't win it--the Judge and I, we just didn't make any fight at all, that's all. We settled it out of court, on terms that suited him, anyhow. I'm sorry for Blackman,--he was just honing to soak that boy the limit! _Your_ boy, Aurora--that ought to have stayed dead, I'm afraid, but didn't.

"But peace and dignity," he added--"listen to me--we'll make a Sabbath school out of this town yet! I can't talk very much more now."

With a great uproarious laugh, somewhat nervous, very much perturbed, he raised his hat clumsily, turned upon his heel clumsily, and would have walked off clumsily. An exclamation from Miss Julia stopped him.

"Where's Don?" asked she. "And what's that over yonder--what does the crowd mean?" She pointed down to the corner of the courthouse square, where indeed a closely packed group was thrusting this way and that, apparently about some center of interest.

"Oh, that?" said Hod Brooks, carelessly, turning his gaze thither; "that's nothing. Pray don't be excited--it's only my--my client, carrying out the last of my legal instructions to him."

"But what does it mean?" demanded Aurora Lane in sudden terror--"what's going on there? Is there more trouble?"

Hod Brooks broke off a spear of gra.s.s from its place between the sidewalk and the fence, and meditatively began to chew it.

"Oh, no, I think not," said he gently. "I don't think the boy will have much trouble. He's doing what I counseled him to do."

"What have you told him--what is he doing--what does it all mean?"

demanded Aurora Lane.

"Nothing," said the big man, still gazing ruminatingly at the scene beyond. "As a member of the bar I was bound to give him such counsel as should be of most practical benefit to him--I swore that in my oath of admission to the bar. So I told him that as soon as court was adjourned he ought to take old Eph Adamson and thrash him this time good and proper. I told him nothing would come of it if he did. I told him it was his plain duty to do it, and if he didn't do it I'd do it myself, because the dogs have got to be put to sleep again now in this town....

I must say," he added, "I am inclined to believe that my client is following his instructions to the letter!" After which Hod Brooks strolled on away.

The crowd at the farther corner of the square broke apart before long.

"By jinks! Silas," said old Aaron to his friend, "who'd a thought it?

I've seen some fights, but that was the shortest I ever did see. And he made old Eph Adamson holler 'enough!' By criminy! he done that very thing. Looks to me, safest thing right is not to talk too much about 'Rory Lane!"

Don Lane emerged from the thick of the crowd, his coat over his arm, his face pale in anger, his eye seeking any other champion who might oppose him.

"Listen to me now, you people!" he said. "If there's another one of you that ever does what that man there has done, or says what he said, he'll get the same he did, or worse. You hear me, now--I'll thrash the life out of any man that raises his voice against anyone of my family. You hear me, now?"

He cast a straight and steady gaze upon Old Man Tarbush, who stood irresolute.

"No, you'll not arrest me again," said he. "You know you won't. You'll leave me alone. If you don't, you'll be the next. I don't love you any too well the way it is.

"Get out now, all of you--you most of all," he added, and gave Marshal Tarbush a contemptuous shove as he elbowed his own way on out of the crowd.

Old Hod Brooks pa.s.sed on down the street and took the opposite side of the public square, paying no attention to all this. He ambled on until he found his own office at length. A half hour later he might have been seen in his customary att.i.tude, slouched deep down into his chair, his head sunk between his shoulders, his feet propped up on the table, and his eyes bent on the pages of a volume of the law.