Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 127: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

TWO STEP LOU AND THE PROFESSOR. tell you! I stabbed him to death with this here hand, judge—just because he sluggec daddie, a poor old man who never done him any harm in all his life. Knocked him down, the yellow skunk; knocked him down for no reason at all. That’s why J killed him, judge. That’s why I killed him —and I’m glad I done it!” She shrieked those last words. They shot from her tongue in a final mad burst of frenzy, seeming to invest the atmosphere o! the court room with an eerie chill that made the blood of her hearers run suddenly cold. It was the end of Two Step’s passionate mood. The next instant she was softly sobbing, her head buried in her arms on the shelflike ledge where the attorneys rest their law books while they argue. It was a subdued, quiet, almost apologetic little girl who looked up at the judge a few sec- onds later, and spoke in a low, sorrowtul voice that, somehow, went straight to the listener's heart. ‘“ Daddie told me to run away,” she saia. “He told me he was a lawyer, judge, and he could have the case al! fixed. I didn’t know /eé was going to take the blame for— for what I done. Honest, judge, not until I seen it in the papers—”’ The dance hall girl choked. Her sentence ended in a sob, and once more the wistfully- beautiful face was hidden in her arms. The last of the Farnsworths rose as if to com- fort her. He raised a scared, pale counten- ance towards the judge and, attempted to speak. ‘Your honor, she is perjuring herself,” he said hoarsely. He was about to say more, but the district attorney interrupted him. The prosecutor’s face was strangely kind as he took his place before the bar. He was smiling. ‘“ If your honor please,’ he began, tak- ing out his watch, and slowly winding it, “if your honor please, the circumstances attending this case are the strangest I have ever encountered in my twenty odd years of criminal practice. Just what motive lies behind such an unprecedented effort at self- sacrifice isn’t yet plain, but I am satisfied that this woman has told the truth, and that the defendant has tned to take her punishment upon himself. Therefore, if it please the court, the State pressed the charges against Mr. Farnsworth.” The judge nodded, and the district attor- ney’s eyes wandered away towards the window overlooking Portsmouth Square. There was a dreamy sort of look in them, as though he might be thinking of those bygone days when the Vigilantes’ hemp tightened about the necks of the murder- cus Sidney Coves. Perhaps it was such a thought that sud- denly stiffened the prosecutor’s chin, and brought something like a glint back to his eves. After all, he had a swom duty to perform and a heritage of stern justice to follow. His words came almost crisply as he resumed: “It is evident, your honor, that Terry Watts didn’t come to his death unaided. He was deliberately murdered, and this woman ”’—pointing to Two Step Lou— ‘“backs a suspicion I have had for some time that the crime was not committed by aman. I request that she be arrested, and held without bail on a charge of first- degree murder, and I shall see to it that a speedy indictment follows. I also ask that Farnsworth be kept in custody on a charge of perjury.” The judge seemed about to demur, but the district attorney hastened to explain himself. “A technical charge, your honor,” he said. “It 1s apparent that Farnsworth was the only witness to the murder. There- fore, on a probable plea of ‘ not guilty’ by this woman, his testimony will be abso- lutely essential for conviction. That’s why I want him held, for otherwise he wouid undoubtedly disappear, and leave the district attorney with a hopeless, circum- stantial case. And this time ’’—with a sig- nificant smile—‘‘ I shall see to it that the witness is less chivalrous and more truth- ful when he appears before your honor.” Tears filled the last of the Farnsworths’ eyes. His sorry little outcast world had suddenly come crashing down about his ears. He had been a failure all his life. Iven this last pitiful little effort to do something really decent had ended in mockery and defeat. Life had beaten him at every turn. 917 MICLOOOL