Judge Brewster frowned. He did not like the insinuation that he was afraid to do the right thing because it might interfere with his emoluments. Yet, secretly, he had to admit to himself that she had almost guessed right. Now he came to think of it, he had taken this stand in the matter because he knew that any other course would displease his wealthy client. After all, was he doing right? Was he acting in conformance with his professional oath? Was he not letting his material interests interfere with his duty? He was silent for several minutes, and then, in an absent-minded kind of way, he turned to his visitor.
"So you think I'm afraid of him, do you?"
"I'm sure of it," she said quickly. "You liked my husband, and you'd just love to rush in and fight for him. His father thinks he is guilty and, well—you don't like to disobey him. It's very natural. He's an influential man, a personal friend of the President and all that. You know on which side your bread is buttered, and—oh, it's very natural—you're looking out for your own interests——"
Judge Brewster interrupted her impatiently.
"Circumstances are against Howard. Your father judges him guilty from his own confession. It's the conclusion I'm compelled to come to myself. Now, how do you propose to change that conclusion?"
"You don't have to change it," she said quietly, "You don't believe Howard guilty."
"I don't?" exclaimed the lawyer.
"No, at the bottom of your heart. You knew Howard when he was a boy, and you know he is as incapable of that crime as you are."
Judge Brewster lapsed into silence, and there followed a perfect quiet, broken only by the suppressed chatter of the clerks and clicking of the typewriters in the outer office. Annie watched him closely, wondering what was passing in his mind, fearing in her heart that she might have prejudiced him against her husband only the more. Suddenly he turned on her.
"Mrs. Jeffries, how do you know that your husband did not kill Robert Underwood?"