The Just and the Unjust Part 28

And a moment later North and the sheriff pa.s.sed out into the twilight.

Neither spoke until they came to the court-house Square.

"We'll go in this way, John!" said the sheriff in a tone that was meant to be encouraging, but failed.

They ascended the court-house steps, and went down the long corridor to the rear of the building. Here they pa.s.sed out through wide doors and into a narrow yard that separated the court-house from the jail.

Crossing this sandy strip they entered the sheriff's office. Conklin paused; North gazed at him inquiringly.

"It's too bad, John," said the sheriff.

Then without further words he led North to a door opposite that by which they had entered. It opened on a long brick-paved pa.s.sageway, at the end of which was a flight of narrow stairs. Ascending these North found himself in another long hall. Conklin paused before the first of three doors on the right and pushed it open.

"I guess this will do, John!" he said.

North stepped quickly in and glanced about him. The room held an iron bedstead, a wooden chair and, by the window which overlooked the jail yard and an alley beyond, a wash-stand with a tin basin and pitcher.

"Say, ain't you going to see a lawyer?" asked the sheriff. "He may be able to get you out of this, you can't tell--"

"Can you send a message to young Watt Harbison for me?" interrupted North.

"Certainly, but you don't call him much of a lawyer, do you? I tell you, John, you want a _good_ lawyer; what's the matter with Marsh Langham?"

"Watt will do for the present. He can tell me the one or two things I need to know now," rejoined North indifferently.

"All right, I'll send for him then."

The sheriff quitted the room, closing and locking the door after him.

North heard his footsteps die out in the long pa.s.sage. At last he was alone! He threw himself down on the cot for manhood seemed to forsake him.

"My G.o.d,--Elizabeth--" he groaned and buried his face in his hands.

The law had lifted a sinister finger and leveled it at him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LIGHT IN DARKNESS

The expression on General Herbert's face was one of mingled doubt and impatience.

"You must be mistaken, Thompson!" he was saying to his foreman, who had, with the coming of night, returned from an errand in town.

"General, there's no mistake; every one was talking about it! Looks like the police had something to go on, too--"

He hesitated, suddenly remembering that John North had been a frequent guest at Idle Hour.

"I had heard that Mr. North was wanted as a witness," observed the general.

"No, they say Moxlow had his eye on him from the start!" rejoined the foreman with repressed enthusiasm for Moxlow.

The general sensed the enthusiasm and was affected unpleasantly by it.

"It would be a great pity if Mr. Moxlow should be so unfortunate as to make a fool of himself!" he commented with unusual acidity. "What else did you hear?"

"Not much, General, only just what I've told you--that they've arrested North, and that young Watt Harbison's been trying to get him out on bail, but they've refused to accept bond in his case. Don't that look like they thought the evidence was pretty strong against him--"

"Well, they, might have arrested you or me," said the general. "That signifies nothing."

He moved off in the direction of the house, and Thompson, after a backward glance at his retreating figure, entered the barn. Out of sight of his foreman, the general's st.u.r.dy pace lagged. That young man had been at Idle Hour entirely too often; he had thought so all along, and now he was very sure of it!

"This comes of being too kind," he muttered.

Then he paused suddenly--but no, that was absurd--utterly absurd; Elizabeth would have told him! He was certain of this, for had she not told him all her secrets? But suppose--suppose--and again he put the idea from him.

He found Elizabeth in the small, daintily furnished sitting-room which Mrs. Herbert had called her "boudoir", and seated himself, none too gently, in a fragile gilt chair which his bulk of bone and muscle threatened to wreck. Elizabeth glanced up from _Their Wedding Journey_, which she was reading for the second time.

"What is it, father?" she asked, for his feeling of doubt and annoyance was plainly shown in his expressive face.

"Thompson has just come out from town--he says that John North has been arrested for the McBride murder--"

The book slipped from Elizabeth's hand and fell to the floor; the smile with which she had welcomed her father faded from her lips; she gazed at him with pale face and wide eyes. The general instantly regretted that he had spoken with such cruel abruptness.

"You don't think it is true?" she asked in a whisper.

"Thompson seemed to know what he was talking about."

"It's monstrous!" she cried.

"If North is innocent--" began the general.

"Father!" She regarded him with a look of horror and astonishment. "You don't like him! It's that, isn't it?" she added after a moment's silence.

"I don't like any one who gets into a sc.r.a.pe such as this!" replied the general with miserable and unnecessary heat.

"But it wasn't _his_ fault--he couldn't help it!"

"I don't suppose he could," replied her father grimly.

She rose and came close to his side.

"Father!" she said in a tone of entreaty, placing a hand on his arm.

"What is it, dear?"

There was both tenderness and concern in his keen gray eyes as he glanced up into her troubled face.