“She put it on him to save her own skin.”
“You think the Wolf—saw?”
Fyles stood thinking for some moments.
“It’s difficult. Maybe he did, though, sir. I think he did. The way he acts now makes me think so. He’s certain in his mind she killed Sinclair. And being the mad-headed fool he is, he’s crazy to save her skin for her.”
“Though she’s done her best to hang him?”
Superintendent Croisette shook his head.
“No, Sergeant, I’m sorry. It’s a good story. And I’ll not say but you may be right. But in my logic there’s not even a half-breed girl so callous that she’d wilfully send the boy she was raised with to the rope knowing him innocent. She believes him guilty, which—automatically clears her.”
CHAPTER XIV
THE CONFOUNDING OF JUSTICE
THE atmosphere of the Court was intolerably heavy. It was the reek of humanity and steam heat. But there was no desire for ventilation. Winter was winter to the people in Calford, and steam heat its only antidote. Besides, every soul amongst that very mixed gathering was absorbed in the drama being enacted.
It was the first day of the trial of the Wolf for the murder of Ernest Sinclair. That was the apparently simple case. There was no complication through the added charge of his liquor traffic. It was murder, just murder. And the official position of the victim of the crime made it the greatest “nine days’ wonder” which the people of the city of Calford had ever known.