Despite the efforts of his counsel to pacify him, it was fully half an hour before Peter V. Wilkinson recovered from his fright. Over and over again he wailed in the lawyer's ears, "But they tried to do it, Morehead. They tried to kill me, didn't they?" And when, at last, the replies to this question were not forthcoming, he asked, between little fits of shivering, what plans had been made to get him away, since the police would probably be powerless to drive away the crowd which every moment, he was positive, was increasing because of the excitement and their knowledge now that he was in the building. In a measure, however, he was soon reassured. For after a loud rap on the railing, the Court came in, and glancing commiseratingly at Colonel Morehead, as if apologising for an act of violence, he shot out a stern forefinger towards the officers and cried out in a sonorous tone:
"Clear the court-room at once! Next thing you know we'll have violence here."
This proceeding took some little time, for the court-room was crowded. When at last it was cleared the Court, bowing respectfully to Colonel Morehead, announced:
"If you're ready, Colonel Morehead, we'll have the indictments read."
The Colonel made a grimace.
"We've been reading them all night, your Honour; I know them all by heart; I think we can waive having them read."
"Put the waiver on the record," said the Assistant District Attorney to the stenographer. He nodded toward the Court. "The District Attorney is most particular about this case."
"How do you plead to the first, Colonel?" asked the Court.
"The larceny indictment?"
"Yes."