“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” answered Murray curtly, “but if you’re still in a mood for levity─” He turned away but as Denver did not stop him he returned of his own will to the bars.
“Now see here,” he said, “this has gone far enough, if you expect to keep out of prison. I came down here to befriend you and all I ask in return is a clear title to what is already mine. Perhaps you don’t realize the seriousness of your position, 235but I tell you right now that no power on earth can save you from certain conviction. The District Attorney has informed me that he has an airtight case against you but, rather than see your whole life ruined, I am giving you this one, last chance. You are young and headstrong, and hardly realized what you were doing; and so I say, why not acknowledge your mistake and begin life over again? I have nothing but the kindest feelings towards you, but I can’t allow my interests to be jeopardized. Think it over–can’t you see it’s for the best?”
“No, I can’t,” answered Denver, “because I never killed Meacham and I don t believe any jury will convict me. If they do, I’ll know who was behind it all and govern myself accordingly.”
“Just a slight correction,” put in Murray sarcastically, “you will not govern yourself at all. You will become a ward of the State of Arizona for the rest of your natural life.”
“Well, that’s all right then,” burst out Denver, wrathfully, “but I can tell you one thing–you won’t get no quit-claim for your mine. I’ll lay in jail and rot before I’ll come through with it, so you can go as far as you like. But if I ever get out─”
“That will do, young man,” said Murray stepping back, “I see you’re becoming abusive. Very well, let the law take its course.”
He straightened up his wry neck, put his glass eye into place and stalked angrily out of the jail; 236and in the hard week that followed Denver learned what he meant, for the wheels of the law began to grind. First the District Attorney, in making his charge, denounced him like a mad-man; then he brought on his witnesses, a solid phalanx, and put them through their parts; and every point of law that Denver’s attorney brought up he tore it to pieces in an instant. He knew more law in a minute than the lawyer would learn in a life-time, he could think circles around him and not try; and when Denver’s witnesses were placed on the stand he cross-examined them until he nullified their testimony. Even grim-eyed Bunker Hill, after testifying to Denver’s character, was compelled to admit that the first time he saw him he was engaged in a fight with Meacham. And so it went on until the jury filed back with a verdict of “Guilty of manslaughter.”
Thus the law took its course over the body and soul of what had once been a man; and when it was over Denver Russell was a Number with eighteen years before him. Eighteen years more or less, according to his conduct, for the laws of the State of Arizona imposed an indeterminate sentence which might be varied to fit any case. As Murray had intimated, under the new prison law a man could be paroled the day after he was sentenced, though he were in for ninety-nine years. That was the law, and it was just, for no court is infallible and injustice must be rectified somewhere. After the poor man and his poor lawyer had matched 237their puny wits against those of a fighting District Attorney then mercy must intervene in the name of society and equalize the sentence. For the District Attorney is hired by the county to send every man to prison, but no one is hired to defend the innocent or to balance the scales of justice.
Denver went to prison like any other prisoner, a rebel against society; but after a lonely day in his cell he rose up and looked about him. Here were men like himself–nay, old, hardened criminals–walking about in civilian clothes, and the gates opened up before them. They passed out of the walled yard and into the prison fields where there were cattle and growing crops; and they came back fresh and earthy, after hours of honest toil with no one to watch or guard them. It was the honor system which he had read about for years, but now he saw it working; and after a week he sent word to the Warden that he would give his word not to escape. That was all they asked of him, his word as a man; and a great hope came over him and soothed the deep wound that the merciless law had torn. He raised his head, that had been bowed on his breast, and the strength came back into his limbs; and when the Warden saw him with a sledge-hammer in his hands he smiled and sent him up to the road-camp.