Scene—The freezer—enter Officer Murphy with big bunch of keys—unlocks door of cage.

Murphy—Now, you there, lady, make yer toilet and fix yer finery for in fifteen minutes the court opens and yer the first on the docket. Doctor Bolus axed yer a lot of questions didn’t he? Lord, how scared he was when I told him I was going to let you out of the cage! And yer old woman sniveled too, and stood off clear to one side as if you was goin’ to make a swipe at her. Why wouldn’t you talk to ’em, my dear? You was confidential enough with that black-eyed young woman. She knows more than Bolus and all of ’em. She gave me a dollar and said I should get yer a nice breakfast, and you got it too, didn’t you? Well, here’s the dollar, I don’t want it. I don’t know nothin’ ’bout you except what the black-eyed one said, but yer all right, I know you is. It’s all a great big fool blunder, that’s what it is. The captain has let that Woodbur shyster razzle-dazzle him—beg yer pardon, miss, I didn’t mean to swear. Oh, I didn’t swear though, did I? But my feelins is so worked up since the black-eyed one told me of you that I come dam near swearin’ right afore you. Yes, yer looks all right. Yer ain’t exact the size of the black-eyed one, but then her close fits ye pretty fair. Come on now and don’t be scared—see. Ye haven’t cried yet and ye mustn’t now or I will slop over myself. The jedge tries to look awful cross, but he isn’t half as bad as folks think he is. Don’t be scared of him, and if he is not too full yer will get off easy.

Scene—Police court—Judge Prince on throne—Officer Donahue with brass buttons, helmet and club, stands by side of throne—Hustler, Bilkson and Woodbur holding conversation—Mixed crowd of onlookers in the background.

[Oyez, Oyez, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera].

Judge Prince (Reading.) “Mary Roe, right name unknown. First charge, larceny in taking glue from factory of Hustler & Co. Second charge, drunk and disorderly. Third charge, assault with intent to kill.” (Spoken) Now, Mr. Woodbur, you represent the prosecution—which charge are you going to try her on? Oh! I see, last first—assault. Well, bring on your witnesses, and quick, too—here are (counting) twenty-one bums on the list and the Polish church riot, besides——let ’er go, Gallagher! Bilkson, the name is—first name? Why yes, of course, in my unofficial capacity I know your name, but the court is not supposed to know nothing—Woodbur, can’t you let up on that chuckle? John Bilkson—what the devil’s name is the man standing like that with his mouth open? Why, someone might fall in. Oh, your teeth are gone! Yes, I see. Keep the beefsteak on the peeper—it will soon be all right. The Express tried to give me a black-eye too, last ’lection. Did they do it? Not if the court house understands itself as Shallkopp says. Yes, she rides a bicycle—that’s right, make her out as bad as you can—hold on, let me write that down (writing—to the officer standing like a statue near) Donahue, how the devil do you spell it? Bi——call it a b-i-k-e and let ’er go? Yes—go on. I am all ears. (In a roar.) Silence in the court.

You tried to make the arrest peaceably, an’ then you went up the ladder and she hit you with an ax—not an ax though, Bilkson, come off, it would have gone clear through your skull, thick as it is. Oh, let up! She hit you, that is enough—with an u-n-k-n-o-w-n w-e-e-p-u-n. All right, go on—Donahue, make the cod dab fool shut up that cavern. Haven’t you showed me three times she knocked your teeth out?

Oh, yes, you searched the house and didn’t find any glue. Well, what if she did carry off a package every Saturday—how do you know it was glue? Hasn’t anyone got a right to carry a package without being jumped on by a fool glue-maker?—Well, that is all right—let me say a word now and then—there ain’t no proof she ever stole a cent’s worth of glue; and what’s more, you hadn’t any business out there tryin’ to get up in her room at three o’clock in the morning when you hadn’t any appointment with her—(aside—Eh! Donahue, how’s that!!) No, sir; and you too, Woodbur, you old stick-fast, what the devil are you always tryin’ to get decent folks in trouble for? Haven’t women got hard enough time to get along without being dogged by a pot-bellied shyster, a cross between a detective and an attorney, who sports a high white hat with a black band, which means he is in mourning for his lost virtue?—Shut up, will you. Don’t talk back to me, Woodbur! I’m on to you with both feet. You haven’t proved a thing against the gal or against the man. The old fellow enticed the gal off, into the woods did he? How do you know he did, are you a mind reader? Well, I see no fault in him. I’ll scourge him and let him go—that is, I’ll fine him five dollars on general principles for disorderly conduct and kick him out. Will you shut up, you dirty blackguard! Confound you Woodbur, who is running this court anyway, you or me? What do I care for Doctor Bolus? To hell with Bolus! Where is he? I’ll give him thirty days. The girl ain’t crazy. She ain’t crazy, I tell you—she has got more sense than anyone in the court room but me—(aside—Eh, Donahue?) Of course she wouldn’t answer their questions. Neither would I. Here you arrest a man and woman on a mere groundless suspicion, or ’cause you got a spite against them, and then the whole police department turns to and tries to justify the arrest by blackening their characters. When you once puts your claws on a man you turn the county upside down and wrong side out to convict him—when you know he ain’t guilty, but you just work to make a reputation for yourself. I’m drunk, am I, Bilkson? Here you clerk, Mr. Bilkson is fined five dollars for contempt of court. What’s that? I have no right to fine you? Oh, no, that’s so, I haven’t?—make it ten, Mr. Clerk. No, sir, I won’t even fine the old man, but I’ll fine you, Woodbur, if you give me any more of your jaw. You Balaam’s ass—you make me weary! You say you found ’em out there together. Well, you old reprobate, hasn’t the gal reached the age of consent? (Aside—Eh—Donahue, how’s that?) Silence in the court!! Git out of here, Mary Roe alias Aspasia Hobbs. Bounce you, John Doe, and never show up here again! You’re old enough to know better. Great Scott, Bilkson, haven’t you shut up that cavern yet? Yes, I know she knocked out your teeth. I’m dab glad of it. (Aside—Eh! Donahue?)

Next!

Martha Heath took my arm as we walked down the steps from the court-room, and The Man walked by my side. I looked at him, and on the gentle face I saw not the slightest look of trouble, unrest or nervous tension. While my nerves were completely unstrung by the last three days’ experience, he looked as refreshed as if he had just come from the quiet and restful woods. He was hatless—the same magnificent poise of the head—calm, serene. He turned on me those wondering gentle eyes as we stood on the walk for an instant. He did not speak. I noted the firm chest, the strongly corded neck, the massive head with its snow-white wavy hair, face large-featured and bronzed by the kiss of the summer sun, lean of flesh as though chiseled by manly abstinence, plain, but all stamped with the seal of fearless honesty, the lips parted showing the strong white teeth, the voice came low but firm,

“If I go away I will come again,”—he turned and was lost in the crowd.

THE END.

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