“Are you not especially anxious to win this case?”
“I am prosecuting, Sir, in the name of the People.”
“In the name of the People!”
Gordon laughed the words out with stinging scorn, and the Attorneys faced one another with a rage that in men of less refinement would have set them at each other’s throats. But the grapple was as deadly and the purpose as grim as though the struggle had been physical. There was no possible chance for argument now and Gordon flung off all restraint as he poured forth his torrent of contempt.
“In the name of the People! What people gave you a commission to tamper with the liberty of the meanest thing alive? What people privileged you to prosecute an innocent man—for you know he is innocent—I have seen it in every false smirk of your face ever since I entered this room. And to prosecute him for what? For your own personal advancement—to win a case for your client. Do you want me to tell you who your client is——”
“I want you to understand that you can’t blackmail me, Sir!”
“Blackmail you? By the Lord Harry, you shall hear the truth from one man if you never hear it again. Don’t lay a hand on me or I’ll break you like this pencil! Blackmail you? To-night you’ve got to know that another man knows you through and through. To-night you have to go unmasked. Are you afraid of hearing me say who your client is? Are you afraid of having me name the politicians whose orders you execute and whose nod is your law? You have been ordered by the police to win this case. This case indeed! And you, the Assistant District Attorney, in the name of the People, will win it by fair means or foul. You have never investigated one fact, or asked one question, calculated to bring out the truth, but by trick and wile you stoop to serve your master’s purpose. And do you think I do not know why? You poor fool! Every honest man knows who cares to follow your dirty tracks, and the knaves whose gifts you buy know whom they sell to and for what. But remember this, the day you run for District Attorney will be the day I take these papers where they will do the most good, and we will see if the People want a perjurer to prosecute in their name!”
Gordon tore from his pocket the “affidavit of merits,” with the proofs of its falsity, and slapped them down upon the desk.
Willard glanced at the papers and then at his adversary. His answer was almost a whisper—hard and rasping.