CHAPTER IV.
THE TRIAL.
Tom turned his head away, and covered his face with his hands. This wascruel. For the first time in his life, he was glad Bennie could not seehim. But he felt that it was necessary for him to say something, so hestammered out,--
"Well, I was only just s'posin', you know. Course, no honest fellow'ddo that; but if they'll only get to work again, we won't ask anybodyfor any hunderd dollars. We'll earn it."
The beauty of the autumn day died slowly out, and the narrow crescentof the new moon, hanging over the tops of the far western hills, shonedimly through the purple haze. Sadly and with few words the two boyswent their homeward way. A great burden of regret and remorse restedupon Tom's heart, and the shadow of it fell upon the heart of his blindbrother.
Poor, poor Tom! He knew not what to do. He could never use the moneynow for Bennie, and he would not use it for himself. It had occurred tohim once to take the money back to Pleadwell, and seek to be releasedfrom his agreement. But a little thought had convinced him that thiswould be useless; that the money would not be received; that, havingaccepted a bribe, he had placed himself in the power of those who hadgiven it to him, and that any wavering on his part, much more anyviolation of his agreement, would bring down vengeance and punishmenton himself, and trouble and disgrace on those who were dear to him.
"Oh, why," he asked himself, in bitter thought, "why did I ever takethe money?"
Tom's mother attributed his melancholy to lack of work and loss ofearnings. She knew how his heart was set on laying up money to sendBennie away, and how impatient he became at any delay in the progressof his scheme. So she talked to him very cheerfully, and made delicatelittle dishes to tempt his appetite, and when the morning for the trialcame, and Tom started for the train to go to Wilkesbarre, dressed inhis best clothes, and with the hated hundred dollars burning in hispocket, she kissed him good-by with a smile on her face. She bade himmany times to be very careful about the cars, and said to him, atparting, "Whatever tha says to thee, lad, tell the truth; whatever thadoes to thee, tell the truth; fear to look no man i' the eye; be goodan' honest wi' yoursel', an' coom back to Mommie an' Bennie, when it'sower, hearty an' weel."
Sandy McCulloch went down with Tom on the train, and together theywalked from the station to the Court House. There were many peoplestanding about in the Court-House Square, and in the corridors of thebuilding, and the court-room itself was nearly full when Tom and Sandyentered it. They found vacant places on one of the rear benches, but,as the seats were all graded down on a sloping floor to the bar, theycould see without difficulty all that was being done.
Tom had never been in a court-room before, and he looked with muchinterest at the judges on the bench, at the lawyers chatting pleasantlyin the bar, at the entry and departure of the grand jury, and at theofficious constables, each with his staff of office, who kept order inthe court-room.
There were some motions and arguments which Tom could not understand,being made by the attorneys; the clerk read some lists in a weak voice,and the time of the court was thus occupied until toward noon.
By and by there was a slight bustle at the side door, to the right ofthe judges' bench, and the sheriff and his deputy entered with JackRennie.
Head and shoulders above those who accompanied him, his heavily beardedface somewhat pale from confinement, and stooping rather more thanusual, he moved slowly across the crowded bar, in full view of all thepeople in the room, to a seat by the side of his counsel.
The instant Tom's eyes rested on him he recognized him as the man whohad threatened him at the breaker on the night of the fire. The buzz ofexcitement, occasioned by the entrance of the prisoner, subsided, andthe voice of the presiding judge sounded distinctly through the room:
"Commonwealth against Jack Rennie. Arson. Are you ready for trial?"
"We are, your Honor," replied the district attorney, rising to his feetand advancing to the clerk's desk.
"Very well," said the judge. "Arraign the prisoner."
Rennie was directed to stand up, and the district attorney read, in aclear voice, the indictment, which charged that the defendant "did,on the eighteenth day of November last passed, feloniously, wilfullyand maliciously set fire to, burn and consume, a certain building, towit: a coal-breaker, the same being the property of a certain bodycorporate known by the style and title of 'The Valley Coal Company;'by reason of which setting fire to, burning and consuming, a certaindwelling-house, also the property of the said Valley Coal Company, andbeing within the curtilage of said coal-breaker, was also burned andconsumed; contrary to the form of the act of the General Assembly, insuch case made and provided, and against the peace and dignity of theCommonwealth of Pennsylvania."
Rennie stood, listening intently to the reading of the indictment. Whenthe question was put:
"What say you,--guilty, or not guilty?" he replied, in a deep, chestvoice,--
"If I be guilty, ye ha' but to prove it."
"Make your plea, sir!" said the judge severely. "Guilty, or not guilty?"
"Then I'll plead no' guilty. No mon's guilty till he's proved guilty."
Rennie resumed his seat, and the court was soon afterward adjourned forthe noon recess.
In the afternoon the selecting of jurors in the case against Renniebegan.
The first one called was a miner. One could tell that by the bluepowder-marks on his face, and that he was of Irish nativity could bedetected by the rich brogue that escaped his lips. He was "passed" bythe Commonwealth, and the clerk of the court recited the formula:
"Juror, look upon the prisoner. Prisoner, look upon the juror. What sayyou,--challenge, or no challenge?"
"Swear the juror to 'true answers make,'" said Attorney Pleadwell.
The man was sworn.
"Where do you live?" inquired the lawyer.
"Up on Shanty Hill, sorr."
"That's definite. Anywhere near this breaker that was burned?"
"Oh, the matther of a mile belike, barrin' the time it'd take ye towalk to the track beyant."
"What's your occupation?"
"Occupation, is it? Yis, sorr; as good a char_rac_ter as anny"--
"Oh, I mean what do you work at?"
"I'm a miner, sorr."
"Where do you work?"
"Faith, I worked for the Valley Breaker Coal Company this tin yearscome next St. Patrick's day, may it plase the coort, an' bad 'cess tothe man that burnt it, I say, an'"--
"Challenge!" interrupted Attorney Pleadwell, sharply.
A tipstaff hurried the challenged man from the witness-box, in a stateof helpless bewilderment as to what it all meant, and another juror wascalled, a small, wiry man, chewing on a mouthful of tobacco. He wassworn on his _voir dire_, and the district attorney asked him,--
"Do you belong to an organization known as the Molly Maguires?"
"No, sir!" quickly responded the man, before Pleadwell could interposean objection to the question.
The district attorney looked at the witness sharply for a moment, thenconsulted with Attorney Summons, who sat by his side as private counselfor the prosecution. They believed that the man had sworn falsely,in order to get on the jury in behalf of the defendant, and he wasdirected to stand aside.
The next juror called was a farmer from a remote part of the county,who had heard nothing about the fire until he arrived in town, and whodisplayed no prejudices. He was accepted by both sides as the firstjuror in the case.
So the selection went on, slowly and tediously, enlivened at times byan amusing candidate for the jury-box, or a tilt between counsel; andlong before the "twelve good men and true" had all been selected andsworn, the early autumn night had fallen, and the flaring gas-jetslighted up the space about the bench and bar, leaving the remotecorners of the court-room in uncertain shadow.
At six o'clock court was adjourned until the following morning, and Tomwent, with Sandy McCulloch, to a small hotel on the outskirts of thecity, where arrangements had been made to accomm
odate witnesses for thedefence. Notwithstanding his anxiety of mind, Tom was hungry, and heate a hearty supper and went early to bed.
But he could not sleep. The excitement of the day had left his brainin a whirl, and he tossed restlessly about, going over in his mindwhat had already occurred, and thinking with grave apprehension ofwhat to-morrow might bring forth. Through it all he still repeated oneresolve: that whatever came he would not lie.
With this unsatisfactory compromise with his conscience on his mind, hefell at last into a troubled sleep.
When court was opened on the following morning, the court-room was moredensely crowded with idle men than it had been on the previous day. Thecase against Rennie was taken up without delay. The district attorneymade the opening address on behalf of the Commonwealth, doing littlemore than to outline the evidence to be presented by the prosecution.
The first witness called was a civil engineer, who presented a mapshowing the plan, location and surroundings of the burned breaker.Following him came two witnesses who detailed the progress of the fireas they had seen it, one of them being the watchman at the breaker, andthe other the occupant of the dwelling-house which had been burned.
A third witness testified to having seen Rennie at the fire shortlyafter it broke out, but did not know how long he had been there, norwhere he came from; and still another swore that he had seen thedefendant in a drinking-saloon in town, about half an hour before heheard the alarm of fire, and had noticed that he went away, in thedirection of the breaker, in company with "Silent Mike."
Then came a witness who gave his name as Lewis G. Travers; a slightlybuilt, but muscular man, of middle age, with sharp eyes and quietmanner.
"What is your occupation?" inquired the district attorney, after theman had been sworn.
"I am a detective."
"Do you know Jack Rennie, the defendant?"
"I do."
"Where did you last see him?"
"At a meeting, in Carbondale, of certain members of the order of MollyMaguires."
"Are you a member of that order?"
"I have been."
"Will you relate the circumstances attending your connection with it?"
The stillness in the court-room was marvellous. On many an expectantface were mingled expressions of hate and fear, as the witness, withcalm deliberation, related the thrilling story of how he had worked asa common laborer in the mines, in order to gain a standing with thelawless miners, and of how he had then been admitted to the order ofMolly Maguires, and had taken part in their deliberations.
As a member of the executive board, he had been present, he said,at a secret meeting held in Carbondale, at which, on account of theoutspoken denunciation of the order, and the prompt dismissal of menbelonging to it, by the owners of the Valley Breaker, it was resolvedto visit them with vengeance, in the shape of fire; that Jack Renniewas selected to carry out the resolution, and that Rennie, beingpresent, had registered a solemn oath to do the bidding of the order.
This was the substance of his testimony, and though thecross-examination, by Pleadwell, was sharp, rigid and severe, theeffect of the evidence could not be broken.
At this point the Commonwealth rested. The case against Rennie hadassumed a serious phase. Unless he could produce some strong evidencein his favor, his conviction was almost assured.
Pleadwell rose to open the case for the defence. After some generalremarks on the unfairness of the prosecution, and the weakness of thedetective's story, he declared that they should prove, in behalf ofthe defendant, that he was not at or near the breaker until after thefire was well under way, and that the saving of a large portion of thecompany's loose property from destruction was due to his brave andenergetic efforts.
"Furthermore," continued Pleadwell, earnestly, "we shall present to thecourt and jury a most irreproachable witness, who will testify to youthat he was present and saw this fire kindled, and that the man whokindled it was _not_ Jack Rennie."
There was a buzz of excitement in the court-room as Pleadwell resumedhis seat; and Tom's heart beat loudly as he understood the significanceof the lawyer's last statement. He felt, more than ever, the wrong, thedisgrace, the self-humiliation to which he should stoop, by giving histestimony in support of so monstrous a lie.
But what could he do? The strain on his mind was terrible. He feltan almost irresistible desire to cry out, there, in the crowdedcourt-room, that he had yielded to temptation for the sake of blindBennie; that he had seen the folly and the wickedness, and known theawful misery of it already; that the money that bought him was likerags in his sight; and that his own guilt and cowardice should savethis criminal no longer from the punishment which his crime deserved.
By a strong effort, he repressed his emotion, and sat, with faceflushed and pallid by turns, waiting for the time when his wretchedbargain should be fulfilled.
The first witness called on the part of the defence was MichaelCarolan, better known as "Silent Mike."
He testified that Rennie came down from Scranton with him and a bodyof strikers on the morning of November 18; that they ate supper withCarolan's married sister, who lived in the village, just beyond theburned breaker; that they spent the evening at a miners' mass-meetingin town, and afterwards called at a drinking-saloon; and that they wereon the way back to his sister's house, for the night, when they heardthe cry of "Fire!"
"At this time," continued Carolan, "Jack and me were together at thecrossin' on Railroad Street, maybe a quarter of a mile away from thebreaker, an' whin we heard the alarm, we looked up the track an' sawthe blaze, an' Jack says, says he, 'Mike, the breaker's a-fire,' an'I says, says I, 'It is, sure;' an' with that we both ran up the tracktoward the fire.
"Whin we were most there we met Sandy McCulloch comin' from the hillbeyant, an' me an' him an' Jack wint an' shoved out the cars from theloadin'-place that we could get at; an' thin we wint to help with thefurniture at the dwellin'-house, an' we saved ivery thing we could."
Silent Mike had done well. Few people had ever before heard so manywords come in succession from his lips, and he told his story with suchimpressive earnestness that it was easy to believe that he spoke thetruth. Indeed, there was very little in his account of the occurrencethat was not strictly in accordance with the facts. He had simplyomitted to state that he and Rennie had gone, first, up to the breakerand kindled the blaze, and then returned, hastily, to the crossingwhere they certainly were when the first cry of "Fire!" was heard.
Rennie's case was looking up. There was a recess for dinner, and, whencourt was re-opened, Sandy McCulloch was put on the witness-stand.
He was just getting into bed, he said, when he heard the cry of "Fire!"He looked out and saw that the breaker was burning, and, hurrying onhis clothes, he ran down the hill.
"When I cam' to the fit o' the hill," he continued, in answer toPleadwell's question, "I heard some'at behin' me, an' I lookit aroun',an' there I see Jack the Giant an' Silent Mike a-speedin' up the tracktoward the breaker.
"The fire was a-burnin' up brisk by then, an' me an' Jack an' Mike, wewent an' pushit some cars out fra the loadin'-place, down the track;an' then we savit a bit fra the dwellin'-house, an' a bit fra theengine-room, an' a bit here an' there, as we could; an' Jack, he workitlike a' possessed, he did, sir; sure he did."
"What were you doing up so late at night?" was the first question putto Sandy on cross-examination.
"Well, you see, sir, a bit o' a lad that works i' the mines wi' us, hehad lost his brither i' the slope the day, he had; an' I gied him apromise to help seek him oot gin he cam' i' the evenin' to say as thelad was no' foond; an' I was a-waitin' up for him, min' ye."
"Well, did the lad come?" inquired Lawyer Summons, somewhatsarcastically.
"He did that, an' he tellit me as how he'd foond the brither, an'leadit him hame, an' would na want me; an' I said 'good-nicht' till thelad, an' started to bed, an' the clock struckit eleven."
"Who was the lad that came to your house?"
"Tom Tay
lor, sir."
Rennie started in his seat as the name was spoken, and the bloodmounted into his pale forehead as he gazed intently at the witness.
"Did the boy go in the direction of the breaker from your house?"questioned Summons.
"He did, sir."
"How long was it after he left you that you heard the cry of fire?"
"Well, maybe the time o' ten minutes."
"Could the boy have got beyond the breaker?"
"He must 'a', sir, he must 'a'; the grass was na growin' under his feetgoin' doon the hill."
"Do you think Tom Taylor fired that breaker?"
Sandy stared for a moment in blank amazement.
"Why, the guid Lord bless ye, mon! be ye daft? There ain't a better boyi' the roun' warl'n Tom Taylor!" and Sandy broke into a hearty laugh atthe very idea of Tom doing any thing wrong.
But Tom, who sat back in his seat and heard it all, was suddenlystartled with the sense of a new danger. Suppose _he_ should be chargedwith setting fire to the breaker? And suppose Rennie and Carolanshould go upon the witness-stand and swear that they saw him runningaway from the newly kindled blaze, as, indeed, they might and not lie,either,--how could he prove his innocence? Yet he was about to swearJack Rennie into freedom, knowing him to be guilty of the crime withwhich he was charged, and, what was still more despicable, he was aboutto do it for money.
Looked upon in this light, the thing that Tom had promised to do rosevery black and ugly in his sight; and the poor delusion that he shouldtell no lie was swept, like a clinging cobweb, from his mind.
It was while his heart was still throbbing violently under theexcitement of this last thought and fear, that he heard some one call,--
"Thomas Taylor!"
"Here, sir," responded Tom.
"Take the witness-stand."