“Yes, he told us about that, and about tryin' to git at Mr. Dwight several other times.”
“I reckon you are satisfied in your own mind that if Mr. Dwight hadn't defended himself Dan would have killed him?” Garner pursued, adroitly.
“I know he would, Mr. Garner, an' when I heard the report that Danny had shot hisse'f by accident, while he was practisin' with his pistol, I was reconciled to it. I didn't think Mr. Dwight was to blame. I always thought he was doin' the best he could, an' that politics caused the bad blood. I always liked 'im, to tell the truth. I'd heard that he was a friend to the pore an' humble, even to pore old niggers, an' somehow I felt relieved when I heard he'd escaped my boy. I knowed Danny meant murder an' that no good could come of it. I'd a sight ruther know a child of mine was dead an' in the hands of his Maker than tied up in jail waitin' to be publicly hung in the end. No, it is better like it is, though if I may be allowed to say so, I can't for the life of me, understand what you-all have got Mr. Dwight hauled up here like this, when his mother is in sech a delicate condition. Good Lord, he hain't done nothin' to be tried for!”
“That will do, Mrs. Willis,” Garner was heard to say, his voice harshly stirring the emotion-packed stillness of the room; “that will do, unless my brother Mayhew wants to ask you some questions.”
“The State has no case, your honor,” Mayhew said, with a sickly smile. “The truth is, I think we've all been imbibing too freely of politics. I confess I've listened to Wiggin myself. It looks like, failing to get Dan Willis to kill Dwight, he's set about trying to have it done by law. Your honor, the State is out of the case.”
There was a pause of astonishment and then the truth burst upon the audience. Realizing that Carson Dwight was more than a free man, vindicated, restored to them, “the gang” rose as a man and yelled. Led by Pole Baker and the enthusiastic Braider, they pressed around him, climbing over the railing and crushing chairs to splinters. Then, amid the shouts and glad tears of the spectators, the most popular man in the county was raised perforce upon the stout shoulders of Baker and Braider and borne down the aisle towards the door.
Above the heads of all, Carson, flushed with confusion, glanced over the room. Immediately in front of him stood Helen. She was looking straight and eagerly at him, her face aglow, her eyes filled with tears. She paused with her father just outside the door, and as “the gang” bore their struggling and protesting hero past, she raised her hand to him. Blushing in fresh embarrassment, he took it, only to have it torn from him the next instant.
“Let me down, Pole!” he cried.
“No, sir, we don't let you down!” Pole shouted. “We've got it in for you. We are goin' to lynch you!”
The crowd, appreciating the joke, thereupon raised the queerest cry that ever burst from breasts surcharged with joy.