“Let me explain, Jake.” Coggswell sat down in his[{49}] desk chair and motioned his disciple to a chair at his right hand. His agitation had now completely disappeared. Once more he was the calm, dignified, benevolent-appearing original of the portrait in oils which hung in the reception hall downstairs.
“Now, as you have correctly pointed out, Jake,” he went on, “the only danger of my becoming implicated in this regrettable post-office affair is through the testimony of this carrier, Owen Sheridan. Greene and Hovey have been caught red-handed, it is true; but I agree with you that they are not the kind of fellows who can be made to squeal. They will deny emphatically that they were obeying my orders when they tampered with Judge Lawrence’s mail. Hovey will insist that he had reasons of his own for wanting to see the contents of those letters.”
Hines nodded. “Yes, I’m quite sure that both those fellows can be relied on, boss. Pretty tough, though, ain’t it, that they’ll have to go to prison?”
Coggswell smiled confidently. “They won’t go to prison. They’re quite safe. They’ll be admitted to bail, of course, and I’ll see that there’s somebody to go on their bond, no matter what the amount—somebody who won’t mind when the bail is forfeited after those fellows have skipped beyond the jurisdiction of the courts.”
Hines nodded again. “Yes, that ought to be easy. And, now, how about Sheridan? How are you going to prevent him from dragging you into this mess?”
Coggswell smiled. “Let me answer that by asking you a question, Jake. Suppose you were on a jury, trying a criminal case: would you believe the testimony of a jailbird? Suppose the chief witness for the prosecution was a young man who had just been tried, convicted, and sentenced for being a thief: would you, as a juryman, take any stock in what he had to say?”
“I would not,” declared Hines virtuously.
Boss Coggswell laughed grimly. “Very well, then; that’s the answer to your question.”
Hines looked bewildered. “But I don’t quite get you, boss. Sheridan ain’t a jailbird.”
“Not yet, you mean, Jake,” corrected Coggswell, in his quiet, smooth voice.