They decided that it would be a mistake for Katherine to try to use her new theories and discoveries openly in defence of her father. She had too little evidence, and any unsupported charges hurled against Blake would leave that gentleman unharmed and would come whirling back upon Katherine as a boomerang of popular indignation. She dared not breathe a word against the city’s favourite until she had incontrovertible proof. Under the circumstances, the best course seemed for her to ask for a postponement on the morrow to enable her to work up further evidence.
“Only,” warned Hosie, “you must remember that the chances are that Blake has already slipped the proper word to Judge Kellog, and there’ll be no postponement.”
“Then I’ll have to depend upon tangling up that Mr. Marcy on the stand.”
“And Doctor Sherman?”
“There’ll be no chance of entangling him. He’ll tell a straightforward story. How could he tell any other? Don’t you see how he’s been used?—been made spectator to a skilfully laid scheme which he honestly believes to be a genuine case of bribery?”
At parting Old Hosie held her hand a moment.
“D’you remember the prophecy I made the day you took your office—that you would raise the dickens in this old town?”
“Yes,” said Katherine.
“Well, that’s coming true—as sure as plug hats don’t grow on fig trees! Only not in the way I meant then. Not as a freak. But as a lawyer.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and slowly shook her head. “But I’m afraid it won’t come true to-morrow.”