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Updated: May 12, 2025
There in his office they found Moxlow with the coroner and North was instantly aware of restraint in the manner of each as they greeted him, for which he could not account. "Sit down, North," said Moxlow, indicating a chair. "Now what is it?" North spoke pleasantly as he took his seat. "I've been cursing you two all the way home from Chicago."
"Stop the execution!" he said, and Moxlow thought his mind wandered. "North didn't kill McBride," Langham went on. "Do you understand me he is not the guilty man!" A gray pallor was overspreading his face. It was called there by another presence in that room; an invisible but most potent presence. "Do you understand me?" he repeated, for he saw that his words had made no impression on Moxlow.
At his back he heard one man whisper to another that the jurymen's dinner had just been brought in from the hotel. "That means another three quarters of an hour, it's their last chance to get a square meal at the county's expense!" the speaker added, which earned him a neighboring ripple of laughter. Judge Langham and Moxlow had withdrawn to the former's private room.
He told himself with grim humor that the single weak strand in the rope Moxlow was seeking to fit about his neck was this, that after all was said and proved, the fact remained, he had not killed Archibald McBride! When the last witness for the state had been examined, North took the stand in his own behalf.
"Do you feel at liberty to state the sum paid by your client?" "It was three thousand and fifty-seven dollars, all in cash." "There are one or two more questions I should like to ask you," said Moxlow. "You saw the money paid into Mr. McBride's hands before two o'clock yesterday afternoon?" "Yes." "Do you know what disposition he made of the money?" "No, I do not."
He had made a thorough search of the ash barrel described by the witness Thomas Nelson, and had come upon a number of charred fragments of paper. "We think these may be of interest to the coroner's jury," said Moxlow quietly. He drew a small pasteboard box from an inner pocket of his coat and carefully arranged its contents on the table before him.
"We have not examined the place, however; we shall wait for the proper officials." "Who do you want, Colonel?" "Coroner Taylor, and I suppose the sheriff," replied Harbison. The man nodded. "All right, I'll bring them; and say, what about the prosecuting attorney?" as he turned to leave. "Yes, bring Moxlow, too, if you can find him." The man hurried from the room.
The blood in him leaped and tingled with suppressed excitement, his twitching lips shaped themselves with Moxlow's words. He felt that Moxlow was letting his opportunity pass him by, that after all he was not equal to the task before him, that it was one thing to plan and quite another to perform. Men, such as those jurors, must be powerfully moved or they would shrink from a verdict of guilty!
It's a pity you didn't strike out for that, Marsh; you'd have been of some use to your friends if you'd got the job." "Not necessarily," said Langham. "Well, when's Moxlow going after me?" inquired Gilmore. "I, haven't heard him say. He told me he had sufficient evidence for your indictment." "Yes, of course," agreed Gilmore placidly. "I guess yours is a case for the next grand jury!"
But Montgomery shook his head vehemently. "I got nothin' to say to that man Moxlow!" he growled with sullen determination. "Very well, then, if you prefer to make your statement to me," and the judge turned to his desk. "Hold on, boss, we ain't ready for that just yet!" Joe objected. He was sober enough, by this time. "What is it you wish to tell me?"
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