"Feather in the cap of the prosecutor."
"—re-election sure enough now."
"Whole thing in a nutshell—"
"Simple question. Did he commit the burglary? If so—"
The young prosecutor hurried away from the sound of these voices and the congratulations of his political friends. He was mentally sore and perplexed because he had won his case.
That night he called upon the prisoner for the second time.
"I have made up' my mind to resign my office," he said, not looking at the convict, who had risen to receive him.
Walter Banks was by far the calmer of the two, but he did not speak.
"I shall never be able to act for the prosecution again. I thought this case was so clear. My duty seemed so plain—too plain to admit of anything but the most vigorous course of action; but—"
"You did nothing but your duty, Mathews. We are all victims I suppose—one way or another. You are going to be the victim of your sensitive conscience. The result will be a course of vacillation that will ruin your chances of success. I am sorry. You've got all the elements for a leader—only you've got a conscience. That settles it. A bit of heredity like that is as fatal as—as mine." He bit his lips.