"That was very nicely said, Mr. Betts," observed the judge. He
smiled widely and sweetly. The sheriff gave him a hostile glare.
"Do you know that Morrow has left town?" the judge went on.
"I ain't got nothing to do with judge Morrow. It's my duty to
see that this building is ready for him when he's a mind to open
court in it"
"You are willing to assume the responsibility of throwing open
these doors?" inquired the judge affably.
"I shorely am," said Betts. "Why, some of these folks are our
leading people!"
The judge turned to the crowd, and spoke in a tone of excessive
civility. "Just a word, gentlemen!--the sheriff is right; it is
your court-house and you should not be kept out of it. No doubt
there are some of you whose presence in this building will sooner
or later be urgently desired. We are going to let all who wish
to enter, but I beg you to remember that there will be five men
inside whose prejudices are all in favor of law and order." He
pushed past Hues and entered the court-house, followed by Yancy
and Hannibal. "We'll let 'em in where I can talk to 'em," he
said almost gaily. "Besides, they'll come in anyhow when they
get ready, so there's no sense in exciting them."
In the court-house, Murrell, bound hand and foot, was seated
between Carrington and the Earl of Lambeth in the little
railed-off space below the judge's bench. Fear and suffering had
blanched his unshaven cheeks and given a wild light to his deeply
sunken eyes.
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