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Updated: May 12, 2025
"I can't keep Moxlow quiet any longer; the sentiment of the community is against gamblers. If you are not a gambler, what are you?" "You mean you are going to throw me over, you two?" "With Moxlow it is a case of bread and butter; personally I don't care whom you fleece, but I've got my living to make here in Mount Hope, too, and I can't afford to go counter to public opinion."
Yet presently the level tones became more and more incisive, and Moxlow would walk toward North, his long finger extended, to loose a perfect storm of words that cut and stung and insulted.
And I was so close to him I could have put an apple in his pocket," Joe explained. "Who was the man?" asked Moxlow. "I thought he looked like John North," said Montgomery. There was the silence of death in the room. "You thought it was John North?" began Moxlow. "Yes." "When he spoke, you thought you recognized North's voice?" "Yes." "Were you sure?" "I was pretty sure, boss " "Only pretty sure?"
Now I am going to lay such facts as I have before Moxlow." Marshall stared moodily into the fire. He told himself that the prosecuting attorney would be in great luck if he got anything out of Gilmore. "I purpose to suggest to Moxlow a fresh line of investigation where this important witness is concerned, and Mr.
The door opened, and Moxlow came into the room. At sight of him, Langham's dull eyes grew brilliant. "I thought you would never get here!" he said. "This is too bad, Marsh!" said his law partner sympathizingly, as Evelyn yielded him her place and withdrew to the window again. "Where's Taylor?" asked Langham abruptly.
Say, it was a hell of a defense he put up, and I had a friend who was willin' to swear he'd seen me in the alley back of Mike Lonigan's saloon cleaning spittoons when old man Murphy said I was in his chicken house; Moxlow said he wouldn't touch my case except on its merits, and the only merit it had was that friend, ready and willin' to swear to anything!"
If Gilmore and Marshall Langham could juggle with John North's life, what of his own life when the judge should have become their ally! "Me and you'll have to fix up what I got to say, boss!" he added with a cunning grin. "Do you mean you wish to make a statement to me?" asked the judge. The handy-man nodded. The judge hesitated. "Perhaps we would better send for Mr. Moxlow?" he suggested.
Very deliberately the banker put on his glasses, and then with equal deliberation began a careful examination of the scrap of paper. "Well?" said Moxlow. "A second, please!" said the banker. But the seconds grew into minutes before he was ready to risk an opinion. "We are waiting on you, Mr. Harden," said Moxlow at length.
The prosecuting attorney sprang to his feet with an angry exclamation. "Let him alone " said Langham weakly. Montgomery stole to the foot of the bed and stared down on Langham. "You tell him, boss," nodding his head toward Moxlow. "I put it up to you!" he said. Langham's glance dwelt for an instant on the handy-man, then it shifted back to Moxlow.
Moxlow in the morning," replied the judge quietly and with apparent indifference, but covertly he was watching the effect of his words on Montgomery. "And then they'll be after me!" cried the handy-man. "Very likely," said the judge placidly. Montgomery glanced about as though he half expected to see Gilmore rise up out of some shadowy corner.
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