VII
On the morning after Challoner's arrest the prosecutor of the pleas wassitting at his desk in his private office in the court-house when Mixleyand McGrath entered.
"You've done as I instructed? You've got Challoner outside?" theprosecutor asked.
The men replied in the affirmative.
"Bring him in," commanded Murgatroyd.
In a few minutes they returned with the prisoner. Challoner lookedbetter than he had the night before. In a thoroughly impersonal way,curtly but not unpleasantly, Murgatroyd addressed him.
"Good-morning! How do you feel?"
The prisoner, still half man, growled:--
"Better. I got some sleep, but I'm still tired as thunder."
"I sent for you this morning," went on the prosecutor, "because of whatyou said last night. I am not sure that you meant all you said--indeedwhether you remember it?"
This interrogation evidently struck Challoner as amusingly superfluous,for he laughed aloud; but the laughter had a note of aching bravado.
"Of course, I remember it," he said presently, and pointing with asteady forefinger to a weapon on the prosecutor's desk, "I shot him withthat gun there."
Murgatroyd could not restrain a movement of surprise at Challoner's_Sang Froid_; neither could those trained witnesses, Mixley and McGrath,leaning well forward lest they should miss a word.
"Most decidedly, then," continued the prosecutor, "you do not recallthat I told you that anything you might say would----"
"I heard all you said," the prisoner broke in, shrugging his shoulders,"but what's the use--it had to come--I knew it. I was getting tired ofhiding in out-of-the-way places, and never having a wink of sleep.Besides, I knew that Pemmican--Cradlebaugh's man--saw the whole affair.There was no sense in trying to escape."
Murgatroyd's face adequately expressed his approval of the prisoner'spoint of view. His voice, however, was distinctly non-committal in tonewhen he observed easily:--
"Pemmican saw it all, then?"
"Certainly he did," Challoner volunteered.
There was a short pause, in which the prosecutor turned over some paperslying on his desk; when he spoke again he did so without looking up fromthe documents he was scanning.
"I haven't examined Pemmican--my men have, though," he said. "I've gothim under lock and key; he's in the house of detention; and he'll haveto stay there until----"
Challoner moistened his lips.
"Until my trial, I suppose," he interposed. "Poor devil! That's hardlines!"
The prosecutor ignored the comment, but he reminded the prisoner againthat he must be careful not to say anything that could be used againsthim, concluding with:--
"You came here from the jail quite willingly this morning?"
"Don't you think we can cut all that sort of thing out, Mr. Prosecutor?"a little scornfully.
Before answering, Murgatroyd shot a glance at his men as if to sharpentheir attention.
"Very well, then," he said finally, "if you're quite willing I shouldlike to know the exact details. As I understand it, both Hargraves andyou were fatally infatuated with an actress at the Frivolity--quarrelledover her--is that right?"
Challoner reddened. For an instant a wild look came into his eyes.
"Surely there is no necessity of bringing any other names into this," heanswered hotly; and then little by little calming down he recountedgraphically all the incidents leading to and of that memorable night,saying in conclusion:--
"... And then Room A at Cradlebaugh's and----"
A most unusual performance on the part of the prosecutor cut him short.All the time Challoner had been laying bare the facts as he rememberedthem, Murgatroyd had been toying silently with a pigskin wallet on whichappeared in gold the initials: "R. H."; and just when his prisoner wason the point of ending his story, he tossed it over to him.
Challoner caught it "on the fly."
"Do you recognise that?" Murgatroyd demanded. The prosecutor desired, ifpossible, to add robbery to the motive in the case.
Challoner never winked an eyelash.
"Know it?" he replied glibly, "I should think I did! It was Hargraves's.When I saw it last there was ten thousand dollars in it." And turning italmost inside out, he asked in an offhand manner:--
"Where's the money gone?"
Murgatroyd's eyes searched the face of the man before him as if he wouldread his very soul.
"You took it," he asserted coldly.
Challoner passed his hand across his face, striving to clear away hismuddled recollections.
"I took it? Decidedly not!" he exclaimed indignantly. But the man'sdipsomaniacal doubts and fears tinged the tone of his voice and lessenedthe impressiveness of his denial, though he added: "Why, your witness,Pemmican, can tell you that--he saw the whole thing."
Mixley and McGrath had something to say now. In chorus they wantedparticularly to know whether Challoner was positive that Pemmican saw"the whole thing." This joint interrogation seemed to have an irritatingeffect on the prisoner; and when Murgatroyd silenced them by inquiringof Challoner whether it was not a fact that he had tried to borrow moneyall over town, the "Yes" he elicited was muttered angrily.
"But I didn't touch that," Challoner resumed, the beads of perspirationstanding out on his brow. "In any event, it is not one of the main factsin my memory. If I did take the money, what in the world have I donewith it--tell me that? But look here, Murgatroyd, let's get down tobusiness and have this over with. I'm tired of the whole affair. I toldyou that I waited for Hargraves for two nights. We had a game in RoomA--there was a compact--Hargraves won out! Hang him, he always won out!We had a row then and there.... I pulled that gun and fired at him pointblank!"
"And then?"
"I killed him; and I would do it over again, I assure you. I don'tremember any more--but Pemmican was there--you've got his story--heknows all about it."
"His story," observed Murgatroyd, laying a forefinger on the edge of thedesk, "amounts to just what you said last night--that drunk and sober,you watched your chance, and when you got it, you made good--or bad,whichever way you please."
"You've got it," returned Challoner, "now take me back."
There was a loud rap on the door. Mixley answered it, and left the room,holding a conversation in somewhat strenuous tones on the other side. Hereturned in an instant.
"It's Counsellor Thorne," he announced to the prosecutor. "He wants tosee you."
Murgatroyd shook his head impatiently. He and Thorne did not pull welltogether.
"Tell him to wait," he said brusquely.
"He won't wait," persisted Mixley. "He insists...."
"You tell him that he's got to wait," returned Murgatroyd.
But Thorne did not wait. No sooner had Mixley left the room than Thorneentered and strode up to the prosecutor's desk. Mixley followed him.
Resting one hand on the table Thorne waved the other toward Challoner.
"Murgatroyd," he cried fiercely, with an injured air, "what's this? Youcall yourself a reputable member of the bar; you call yourself a reformprosecutor of the pleas; this is a most unfair advantage."
Murgatroyd sighed wearily.
"What now, Thorne, what now?"
"Most unfair," repeated the other counsellor-at-law. "You've got myclient here--my client!"
Murgatroyd looked at Mixley and then at McGrath.
"Your client! Where is your client?"
"There he is," pointing, "James Lawrence Challoner!"
Murgatroyd rose and said suavely:--
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Thorne. Are you retained? I didn't know.Challoner said nothing of it. Why didn't you tell me, Mr. Challoner?"
"I didn't know it," Challoner told him shortly. "But it's all right--Isuppose Mrs. Challoner retained him."
"Yes, she did," Thorne informed him.
"Well, I'm sorry, Thorne," said Murgatroyd. "If I had known you were inthe case----"
"Sorry!" echoed Thorne. "This is outrageous! I went up to
the jail thismorning and my client was not there." He waved his arm as if addressinga jury. "And when they told me that you--you had the effrontery to havehim brought down here--for the third degree--This is a matter for the_Morning Mail_."
Murgatroyd lolled back in his chair and lit a fresh cigar. Presently hesaid:--
"Thorne, my duty is to the people as well as to your client; so far I'vedone my duty to both. Go to the _Morning Mail_ if you want to."
"And leave my client here alone!" said Thorne, doggedly. He shook hishead to let Challoner see what a determined man he was.
Murgatroyd leaned back over his desk and for a moment busied himselfwith his papers. Then he announced:--
"Mr. Thorne, your client is going back to jail at once;" and addedjokingly: "If you wish to ride with him in the van, you may do so." Andwith that he ordered Challoner taken away.
Before going, Challoner stretched out his hand and said half genially:--
"I've no fault to find with you, Mr. Prosecutor; it had to come tothis."
"But I won't forget this--not for a moment, Prosecutor Murgatroyd," saidThorne grandiloquently, as he stalked out of the door, followed by theprisoner and his guards.
After the men had left Murgatroyd paced the floor for a while in deepmeditation. Something in the prisoner's attitude had moved him, puzzledhim. "There's a discrepancy somewhere," he told himself; "and yet wherethe deuce is it?--Challoner killed this man as sure as fate. The motive,the opportunity, were there.... And then there's his confession....But--" He pushed a button; and when McGrath answered the call he wasordered to have Pemmican sent down from the house of detention, hisorder ending with: "I wish to see him at once."
"Yes, sir." The officer then placed a card upon the prosecutor's deskand added: "That's a party who wants to see you, sir."
Murgatroyd picked up the card negligently and glanced at it out of thecorner of his eye. Instantly a dull flush mounted to his face, andrising to his feet, he said:--
"Tell the lady to come in, please."