“Not even a photograph of one!” replied Garner, bitterly. “I sent Pole right out again, tired as he was, in another direction. He had a faint idea that he might persuade Willis's mother to testify, though I told him he was on a wild-goose chase, for not one mother in ten thousand would turn over a hand to aid a man who—a man under just such circumstances. Then I got a horse—”
“At that time of night?” Carson cried.
“What was the difference? I couldn't sleep, anyway, and the cool night air made me feel better, but I failed. The men I saw admitted that they had heard Dan talk some, but they couldn't recall any absolute threats. When I got back to town it was eight o'clock. I ate a snack at the restaurant and then hurried off to see the district-attorney. Mayhew is a good man, Carson, and a fair man. I think he is the most honest and conscientious solicitor we've ever had. But right there I saw the track of your guardian angel. As early as it was, Wiggin had been there before me. Mayhew wouldn't admit that he had, but I knew it from his reserved manner. Why, I expected to see the solicitor take the whole thing lightly, you know, considering your standing at the bar and your family name, but I found him—well, entirely too serious about it. He really talked as if it were the gravest thing that had ever happened. I saw that he was badly prejudiced, and I tried to disabuse his mind of some hidden impressions, but he wouldn't talk much. All at once, however, he looked me in the face and asked me how on earth any sensible man, familiar with the law, could keep a thing like that concealed as long as you did. I told him, in as plausible and direct a way as I could, how you felt in regard to your mother's condition. He listened attentively, then he shrugged his shoulders and said: 'Why, Garner, Dr. Stone told my wife the other day that Mrs. Dwight was improving rapidly. Surely she wasn't as bad off as all that.' My Lord! I was set back so badly that I hardly knew what to say. He went on then to tell me that folks through the country had been saying that towns-people always managed to avoid the law by some hook or crook, or influence, or money, and that he was not going to subject himself to public criticism even in the case of a man as popular as you are.”
“That was Wiggin's work!” Carson said, his lips pressed tightly together as he turned back to the window.
“Yes, that's his method. He's the trickiest scamp unhung. Of course, he can't hope to see you actually convicted of this thing, but he does evidently think he can have you bound over to trial at the next term of court, and beat you at the polls in the mean time. He thinks with his negro incendiary speeches to rouse the lowest element, and the charges that you've murdered one of your own race to inflame the prejudices of others, that he can snow you under good and deep. But we've got to make the best of it. There is no shirking or postponing of this hearing to-day. Even if the very—the very worst comes,” Garner finished, slowly, as if shrinking from the words he was uttering, “we can give any bonds the court may demand.”
“But”—and Dwight turned from the window and stood before his friend—“what if they refuse to take bonds at all and I have to go to jail?”
“What do you want to cross a bridge like that for?” Garner demanded, plainly angered by the sheer possibility in question.
Dwight leaned over Garner and put his hand on the dusty shoulder. “That would kill my mother, old man!”
“Do you think so, Carson?” Garner was deeply moved.
“I know it, Garner, and her blood would be on my head.”