"Yes, but they already know you've been in prison."
"Sure, but my taking the stand would make the rap harder. That fellow Eades would tear me to pieces."
Marriott was silent.
"And then that old hixer on the jury, that wise guy up there in the corner." Archie shook his head in despair. "Every time he pikes me off, I know he's ready to hand it all to me."
"You mean Broadwell?"
"Yes. He's one of those church-members. That's a bad sign, a bad sign." Archie shook his head sadly. "No, it's a kangaroo all right, they're going to job me." Archie hung his head. "Of course, Mr. Marriott, I know you've done your best. You're the only friend I got, and I wish--I wish there was some way for me to pay you. I can't promise you, like some of these guys, that I'll work and pay you when I get--" He looked up with a sadly humorous and appreciative smile. "Of course, I--"
"Don't, Archie!" said Marriott. "Don't talk that way. That part of it's all right. Cheer up, my boy, cheer up!" Marriott was trying so hard to cheer up himself. "We haven't played our hand yet; we'll give 'em a fight. There are higher courts, and there's always the governor."
Archie shook his head.
"Maybe you won't believe me, Mr. Marriott, but I'd rather go to the chair than take life down there. You don't know what that place is, Mr. Marriott."
"No," said Marriott, "but I can imagine."