Betts the sheriff, and his
deputies.
No private citizen had shown greater zeal than Judge Slocum
Price, no voice had clamored more eloquently for speedy justice
than his. He had sustained a loss that was in a peculiar sense
personal, he explained. Mr. Norton was his friend and client;
they had much in common; their political ideals were in the
strictest accord and he had entertained a most favorable opinion
of the young man's abilities; he had urged him to enter the
national arena and carve out a career for himself; he had
promised him his support. The judge so worked upon his own
feelings that presently any mention of Norton's name utterly
unmanned him. Well, this was life. One could only claim time as
it was doled out by clock ticks; we planned for the years and
could not be certain of the moments.
He spent two entire days at the church and in the surrounding
woods, nor did any one describe the murder with the vividness he
achieved in his description of it. The minister's narrative was
pale and colorless by comparison, and those who came from a
distance went away convinced that they had talked with an
eyewitness to the tragedy and esteemed themselves fortunate. In
short, he imposed himself on the situation with such brilliancy
that in the end his account of the murder became the accepted
version from which all other versions differed to their
discredit.
In the same magnificent spirit of public service he would have
assumed the direction of the search for the murderer, but Mr.
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