CHAPTER XV
THE GAME IS ON
Contrary to expectation, the case of the State of South Dakota againstJesse Black was called soon after the sitting of the court Mondayafternoon. No testimony was introduced, however, until the followingday. Inch by inch, step by step, Gordon fought for a fair jury throughthat tense afternoon. Merciless in his shrewd examination, keen todetect hesitancy, prejudices sought to be concealed he cleverly andrelentlessly unearthed. Chair after chair was vacated,--only to bevacated again. It seemed there was not a man in the county who had notheard somewhat of this much-heralded crime--if crime it were. And he whohad heard was a prejudiced partisan. How could it be otherwise wherefeeling ran so high,--where honest men mostly felt resentment against theman who dared to probe the wound without extracting the cause of it, anda hatred and fear curiously intermingled with admiration of the outlawwhose next move after obtaining his freedom might be to cut out of thegeneral herd, cows of their own brands,--where tainted men, officers orcowmen, awaited developments with a consuming interest that was notabove manipulating the lines of justice for their own selfish ends? Yet,despite the obstacles in the way, Gordon was determined to have anunprejudiced jury in so far as it lay in human power to seat such a onein the box. So he worked, and worked hard.
This impanelling of the jury was not interesting to the crowd. Many hadno hint of its deeper meaning. Others saw it in the light of child'splay--a certain braggadocio on the part of the young lawyer. They wantedthe actual show to begin--the examination of witnesses. They came andwent restlessly, impatiently waiting. Wiser heads than theirs knew thatthe game was already on in deadly earnest. If these had been luckyenough to get seats in the small and overcrowded court-room, theyremained glued to them. They were waiting to see what manner of menwould be chosen--Jesse's peers--to pass judgment on his acts and mete outfor him just deserts--if they were capable of a just verdict. Thesquare-jawed, keen-witted, clean-cut captain of justice, who hadforgotten that the campaign had aged him irrevocably and that somewhitened hair would never grow brown again, meant that they should becapable. The opposing lawyers smiled tolerantly at the numerouschallenges. These smiles went far to convince many of the infallibilityof their defence. Amused tolerance is a powerful weapon on more fieldsthan one where men war with their wits. It is a wise man who cultivatesthe art.
"We have chosen the right man," whispered Langford to Mary. They hadsecured seats near the front and were of those who knew the game wasbeing played.
"He is great," returned Mary. If only her father could be there to help!The odds were fearful. Louise, sitting at her table within the bar, withfaith in this man's destiny sufficient to remove mountains, smiled downat her friends.
"Louise is an angel," said Mary, affectionately.
"Yes, she is," responded Langford, absently, for he was not looking atthe girl reporter, nor were his thoughts on her side of the rail. Hewished for the sake of Williston's "little girl" that there were not somuch tobacco stench in the room. But this was a vague and intangiblewish. He wished with the whole strength of his manhood--which wasmuch--that this man on trial might be made to pay the penalty of hiscrime as a stepping-stone to paying the penalty of that greater crimeof which he firmly believed him guilty. His own interest had becomestrangely secondary since that hot July day when he had pledged himselfto vengeance. This falling off might have dated from a certain Septembermorning when he had lost himself--for all time--to a girl with pain-pinchedface and fever-brightened eyes who wore a blue wrapper. His would not bea personal triumph now, if he won.
Court adjourned that evening with the jury-box filled. The State'sfriends were feeling pretty good about it. Langford made his way intothe bar where Gordon was standing apart. He passed an arm affectionatelyover his friend's shoulder.
"You were inspired, Dick," he said. "Keep on the same as you have begunand we shall have everything our own way."
But the fire had died down in the young lawyer's bearing.
"I'm tired, Paul, dead tired," he said, wearily. "I wish it were over."
"Come to supper--then you'll feel better. You're tired out. It is a toughstrain, isn't it?" he said, cheerily. He was not afraid. He knew thefire would burn the brighter again when there was need of it--in themorning.
They passed out of the bar together. At the hotel, Mary and Louise werealready seated at the table in the dining-room where the little partyusually sat together when it was possible to do so. Judge Dale had notyet arrived. The landlady was in a worried dispute with Red Sandersonand a companion. The men were evidently cronies. They had their eyes ontwo of the three vacant places at the table.
"But I tell you these places are taken," persisted the landlady, whoserved as head-waitress when such services were necessary, which was notoften. Her patrons usually took and held possession of things at theirown sweet will.
"You bet they are," chimed in Red, deliberately pulling out a chair nextto Louise, who shivered in recognition.
"Please--" she began, in a small voice, but got no farther. Something inhis bold, admiring stare choked her into silence.
"You're a mighty pretty girl, if you are a trottin' round with the ThreeBars," he grinned. "Plenty time to change your live--"
"Just move on, will you," said Gordon, curtly, coming up at that momentwith Langford and shoving him aside with unceremonious brevity. "This ismy place." He sat down quietly.
"You damned upstart," blustered Sanderson. "Want a little pistol play,do you?"
"Gentlemen! gentlemen!" implored the landlady.
"I'm not entering any objection," said Gordon, coolly. "Just shoot--whydon't you? You have the drop on me."
For a moment it looked as if Sanderson would take him at his word andmeet this taunt with instant death for the sender of it, so black washis anger. But encountering Langford's level gaze, he read somethingtherein, shrugged his shoulders, replaced his pistol, and sauntered offwith his companion just as Judge Dale came upon the scene. Langfordglanced quickly across the table at Mary. Her eyes were wide withstartled horror. She, too, had seen. Just above Red Sanderson's templeand extending from the forehead up into the hair was an ugly scar--notlike that left by a cut, but as if the flesh might have been deeplybruised by some blunt weapon.
"Mary! How pale you are!" cried Louise, in alarm.
"I'm haunted by that man," she continued, biting her lip to keep fromcrying out against the terrors of this country. "He's always showing upin unexpected places. I shall die if I ever meet him alone."
"You need not be afraid," said Gordon, speaking quietly from his placeat her side. Louise flashed him a swift, bewildering smile of gratitude.Then she remembered she had a grievance against him and she stiffened.But then the feel of his arms came to her--the feel that she had scarcelybeen conscious of yesterday when the dark water lay at her feet,--and sheblushed, and studied her plate diligently.
Under this cover, the young ranchman comforted Mary, whom the others hadtemporarily forgotten, with a long, caressing look from his handsomeeyes that was a pledge of tireless vigilance and an unforgettingwatchfulness of future protection.
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