“Mr. Whiting is in the Court of General Sessions, just below this office here, and I’d rather not disturb him. Can your business wait?”
“It cannot,” declared Stone, “not an instant. Please send this message immediately. Mr Whiting will not be annoyed at the interruption.”
As Fleming Stone and Fibsy entered the courtroom District Attorney Whiting was reading the note in which the detective asked the privilege of speaking to him a moment, and partially told why.
At that instant also, the jury were filing into the box prepared to give their verdict.
“Gentlemen of the jury,” said the clerk of the court, “have you arrived at a verdict?”
“We have,” replied the foreman.
“What is it?”
“We find the defendant guilty, as charged in the indictment, of—”
“Excuse me, your Honor,” said the district attorney, hurriedly, to the judge on the bench, “I would like to interrupt here,” and he walked toward the bench.
A strange and expectant hush fell over the courtroom, as the judge and the district attorney conferred in whispers. The conference continued a few moments, and then the judge said suddenly, “This is a matter that should be discussed with the lawyer for the defense. Judge Hoyt, will you please step to the bench?”