Then for two hours the crowded court-room of people sat in breathless silence, while District Attorney Davazec drove nail after nail into the gallows which should hang Hitch Diamond. It was a savage and pitiless prosecution, not because of the efforts of Davazec, but because of the force of the testimony, developing a chain of evidence without a weak or missing link. The jurors, grim, silent, attentive, fixed their eyes upon each witness, and when the witness-chair was empty, they looked down at the floor.
Not one of them glanced at Hitch Diamond. Jurymen don’t like to watch a man whom they are making up their minds to condemn to death.
Hitch listened to the evidence without a word or question to a single witness. If Judge Haddan asked a question, Hitch grinned. He seemed never to comprehend the effect of the statements that were being made.
Dan Davazec arose and announced with dramatic emphasis:
“Your honor, the State closes!”
The crowd in the court-room drew a long breath; a humming murmur like a breeze in the tree-tops swept over the heads of the people.
Hitch Diamond arose.
“Boss,” he announced to the judge, “Mister Danny Davazec is shore done hisse’f proud, an’ all dem white men is tole de truth—as fur as dey knows it. I closes up de State’s case, too!”
A snicker sounded from the rear benches, where an assortment of white toughs and loafers had congregated for gratuitous entertainment.
The jury stared at the floor.