Shirley and Miriam and even Challoner watched the course of events with great interest. Miriam's mouth was sealed upon the question of the bribe, but Challoner absorbed what he had heard in the court-room, and hazy though it had been, he noted that Miriam's manner was still hopeful, in fact, certain. Shirley, too, felt, rather than knew, that Murgatroyd had removed from himself not the taint of bribery, but the violation of his compact. She felt the thing was cut and dried.
One day the Clerk of the Court of Errors and Appeals placed in the hands of a special messenger a document some five pages long. It was a carbon copy.
"Take that to the prosecutor of the pleas," he commanded, "and tell him it's advance. The original," he added, "will be on file to-morrow."
Murgatroyd received and read it with inward satisfaction. As he was perusing it, Mixley rushed into his private room, and yelled in alarm:—
"Chief! Chief! Look at this!" He, too, held in his hand a document composed of several sheets of yellow paper, scribbled over with a soft, black, lead-pencil. "It's from the warden—" he whispered.
Murgatroyd laid down his carbon copy and took Mixley's yellow sheets. He read the first page and rose to his feet.
"When did all this happen, Mixley?" he asked in a tense voice, with difficulty restraining his excitement.
"About an hour ago."
"Who was the keeper that took this down?"
"Jennings."