"Well, I saw her hide something blue in her dress just now," persisted the jailer, "and I want to see it, that's all!"
"It was—it was only a handkerchief!" sobbed Marcelina, clutching at her breast. "No, no! Eet is mine—he—he geev it to me! You can not—" she choked, and backed swiftly toward the door. Like a panther Pecos whipped out of his cell and sprang against the corridor grating, but she was gone. The deputy made a futile grab as she darted away from him and sprang after her, but she swung the great door in his face and sped like a deer down the hall. The next moment she was gone, leaving Pecos and the deputy to have it out together.
"Aha!" cried the deputy vengefully, "you will try to smuggle things in, will you? I'll report this matter to Mr. Morgan at once!"
"Well, report it, then, you low-flung hound!" wailed Pecos, "report it, and be damned to you! But if I was outside these bars I'd beat you to death for this!" They raged up and down the grating, snarling at each other like dogs that fight through a lattice, and even when Boone Morgan came and called them down Pecos would not be appeased.
"He scairt my girl away!" he cried, scowling menacingly at the raw deputy. "She come to give me a handkerchief and he jumped at her. I'll fix him, the dastard, if ever I git a chance!" And so he raged and stormed until they went away and left him, mystified. To Boone Morgan it seemed as if his alcalde was raising a row out of all proportion to his grievance, but that was because Pecos could not explain his woes. Marcelina had promised to kiss him good-bye, and the damned deputy had intervened!
CHAPTER XX
THE LAW AND THE EVIDENCE
AS the rising sun poured its flood of glorious light into the court-house square and the janitor, according to his custom, threw open the court-room doors to sweep, there was a scuffling of eager feet from without and the swift-moving pageantry of the Dalhart trial began. A trio of bums who had passed the night al fresco on the park benches hustled past the astounded caretaker and bestowed themselves luxuriously on the front seats. As the saloons opened up and discharged their over-night guests others of the brotherhood drifted in and occupied the seats behind, and by the time the solid citizens of Geronimo had taken care of their stock, snatched their breakfasts, and hurried to the scene there was standing room only in the teeming chamber of justice. Only the special venire of jurymen took their time in the matter and the sweating bailiff had to pass them in through the side door in order to get them seated inside the railing. At nine-thirty Boone Morgan brought in the defendant, freshly shaven and with his hair plastered down across his forehead, and sat with him near the jail door. It was all in the line of duty, but there were those who remarked that it was right clever of old Boone to throw in that way with his jail alcalde. Some people would have put the nippers on him for the cow-thief that he was, and chained him to a deputy. Behind them, the cynosure of all eyes, sat the counsel for the defendant, Angevine Thorne, his round baby face illuminated with the light of a great resolve. On that day he was going to save his friend from prison or climb spider-webs in the attempt. A hush fell over the assembly as the hour of trial drew near and only the gaunt figure of Shepherd Kilkenny, pacing up and down before the empty jury-box, suggested the battle that was to come. The rest was as pathetic as the Angelus.