Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

852 At that the smile left Cosgrove’s face. He gazed at Gaines with a flickering light in his eyes which Hazel recognized; and she felt her spirit respond with exhilaration. “Tf that’s the case,” he said in a quiet, icy voice, ‘I shall have to get out.” “ But they won’t give you bail!” she cried. ‘“‘ Bail or no bail,” said Cosgrove, ‘I can’t disappoint Lederer if he wants to play another hand with me.” Christofferson came into the corridor. “The judge is waitin’, Brad,” he an- nounced. At Manford the law seeks comfort rather than majesty, and Judge Peter Fairlove had his feet upon the battered desk which served as the bench from which he exuded justice. This morning it appeared that his honor enjoyed good humor. The air of the little court room, heavy with the odor of stale tobacco smoke, buzzed with the echo of his geniality. The editor, reporter, and general manager of the Manford Argus slouched in a seat at the back of the court room and loudly approved of it. Others who contributed to the murmur of voices that filled the room were Wert lar- ley and a group of cronies. ‘There’s shore a chance for big pub- licity in this case,” said he of the Argus. His na§al voice was raised to carry the length of the court room, for by dint of this long-distance conversation it was his custom to make his pearls of wit and humor tell. ‘“‘ Justice—that’s all I aim for,” protest- ed his honor, accurately hitting the cuspi- dor. ‘‘ Publicity don’t mean nothing to me, only just see you spell my name with the full ‘r’ in Peter. It don’t look good, just Pete.” “ Here’s the prisoner for this Cosgrove case, your honor,’’ quoth Sheriff Christof- ferson, entering at that moment; and all present watched with interest the passage of Bradley Cosgrove down the aisle. Cos- grove approached the raised dais upon which justice sat, and of all those present he seemed least interested in the business at hand. Farley was not so dense that he did not ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. fee] that Cosgrove gave the effect of a dis- tinguished Easterner present for the purpose of inspecting local institutions. The hon- orable judge felt this, too, and he brought the legs of his chair down to the floor with a thump, drew himself up at his desk, and Straightened his necktie, as a tribute to the respect which Cosgrove unconsciously demanded. ‘You are charged with murder in the first degree,” he announced severely. He endeavored to convey that if any worse charge could have been invented for the crime Cosgrove was accused of he’d cer- tainly have been indicted for it. “Yes,” said Cosgrove politely. ‘* Have you any plea to make?” ‘“T plead guilty of shooting Jacob Klien in self-defense,” responded Cosgrove. Hazel, who remained at the back of the court room with Gaines at her elbow, frowned thoughtfully. She had expected to hear Cosgrove hotly defiant; she had expected denial, fight. His colorless admission puzzled her. “The court cannot accept your plea. The charge is that of murder in the first degree. Have vou got a lawyer?” ‘“T am my own lawyer.” His honor smiled. Conscious that he was now about to make a dramatic announce- ment—that his words were to be em- blazoned on the morrow on the front page of the Argus, he drew himself up a little and assumed a voice of tremendous dig- nity. ‘Then I’m going to give you two weeks to consult with yourself,” he said. ‘“ You will be held by the sheriff of this county under a bai] of five thousand dollars for trial in this court just two weeks from to- day at 10.45 A.M.” As the successsful playwright accepts the plaudits of the enthusiastic audience, so his honor visibly swelled before the buzz which filled the court room at his words. He gave it a moment to have its fling and then re- turned to business. ‘““Have you a bondsman?r” he asked the prisoner. Cosgrove stared at him with twinkling, inquisitive eyes. He was wondering to what he owed this leniency. GIOok