“Lies! Lies!” he cried in a choking fury. “They’ve been bought off by Blake!”
“Silence!” shouted Judge Kellog, pounding his desk with his gavel.
“I tell you it’s trickery! They’ve been bought off by Blake!”
“Silence!” thundered the judge, and followed with a dire threat of contempt of court.
But already Mr. Wilson and Sheriff Nichols were dragging the struggling Bruce back into his chair. More shouts and hammering of gavels by the judge and clerk had partially restored to order the chaos begotten by this scene, when a bit of paper was slipped from behind into Bruce’s hand. He unfolded it with trembling fingers, and read in a disguised, back-hand scrawl:
“There’s still enough left of me to know what’s happened.”
That was all. But Bruce understood. Here was the handiwork and vengeance of Blind Charlie Peck. He sprang up again and turned his ireful face to where, in the crowd, sat the old politician.
“You—you——” he began.
But before he got further he was again dragged down into his seat. And almost before the crowd had had time fairly to regain its breath, the jury had filed out, had filed back in again, had returned its verdict of guilty, and Judge Kellog had imposed a sentence of five hundred dollars fine and sixty days in the county jail.