“Swear to me, Jack Dunlap, by God above us and your sacred honor, that you will stop at nothing in the effort to save my husband. Swear!”
“I swear,” said the sailor simply as he raised his hand.
The woman’s manner, speech, and the scene did not seem strange to those who stood about her. She was suddenly aroused to reason to find the object of her tenderest love in direst danger; her stay, prop and reliance, her grandfather, unaccountably absent. In that trying stress of circumstances, the intensity of the feeling within her wrought-up soul found expression in excessive demands and exaggerated attitudes.
“Now go! my Jack; hurry after Walter and help him,” she urged as with nervous hands she pushed him toward the door.
Next morning, when the newspapers made the startling announcement that a member of the firm of J. Dunlap, Boston’s oldest and wealthiest business house, had been arrested on the charge of that nameless crime and the murder of the Malloy girl, the entire city was stunned by the intelligence.
A crowd quickly gathered around the city jail. Threatful mutterings were heard as the multitude increased in numbers about the prison. When Malloy came and his neighbors clustered about the infuriated father of the outraged victim, that slow and slumbering wrath that lies beneath the calm, deceptive surface of the New England character began to make itself evident. “Tear down the gates!” “Lynch the fiend,” and such expressions were heard among the men, momentarily growing louder, as the cool exterior of the Northern nature gave away.
Soon many seafaring men were seen moving among the most excited of the mob, saying as they passed from one group to another, “It’s not true! You know the Dunlaps too well!” “Keep quiet, it’s a lie!” “Dunlap offered a reward for the arrest of the villain; it can’t be as the papers say!”
One sailor-man, who carried a crippled arm, mounted a box and made a speech, telling the people there must be a mistake and begging them to be quiet. When he said that his name was Dunlap, the seafaring men began to cheer for “Skipper Jack,” and the mob joined in. Seeing one of the Dunlap name so calm, honest and brave in their very midst, the mob began to doubt, and shaking their heads the people moved gradually away and dispersed, persuaded that naught connected with the worthy Dunlap name could cause such foul wrong and disgrace to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
The best legal talent of New England was retained that day for the defense of Burton. When they had examined the circumstantial evidence against Burton they frankly told Jack Dunlap that an alibi, positively established, alone could save the accused man.
The unselfish sailor sought the seclusion of his cabin on board his ship, that lay at anchor in the harbor, there to ponder over the terrible information given him by the leading lawyers of Boston.