"It is outrageous!" exclaimed Parks vehemently; "as scandalous as the open sale of justice to the highest bidder. Those men should be dragged from the bench, and driven through the streets in a cart, with their price for rendering such a judgment placarded on their backs. The judges were bought and justice was sold."
"No, no," I protested. "The men on the bench may be wrong-headed, small-minded, pettifogging, but not corrupt--believe me, not corrupt."
Parks looked at me with a pitying shake of his head.
"You are welcome to your opinion," he said, "but it isn't mine. However, it doesn't matter. The court has driven another nail in the coffin of the present social order."
"But how did this decision get Merwin into the hands of the police? Did he go around to the courtrooms and tell the justices what he thought of them?"
"No, indeed!" said Parks indignantly, "though I shouldn't have blamed him if he had. He got up at our water-front meeting and, for the first time since I've known him, made a speech. It came hot from his tongue, too, telling the plain story of his case to his fellow-citizens. And what did the police do? Why, they arrested him for trying to incite a riot!"
Parks paused as though waiting for my opinion on this exercise of police power.
"Well," I admitted, "the plain story of the case of Merwin against Bolton might very well sound like an attempt to stir the mob to violence."
"It makes my blood boil, Hampden," cried Parks. "It's the stuff that revolutions are made of. The hirelings of Nob Hill know it, and that is why they trampled on the liberties of speech in the attempt to shut the mouth of the injured man."
"Go on with your story. What happened after he was arrested?"