Here and there, as he advanced,
Fentress recognized a friend and bowed coolly to the right and
left.
"What does this ridiculous mockery mean?" he demanded harshly.
"Mr. Sheriff, as a member of the bar, I protest! Why don't you
clear the building?" He did not wait for Betts to answer him,
but continued. "Where is this man Hues?"
"Yonder, Colonel, by the captain," said Betts.
"I have a warrant for his arrest. You will take him into
custody."
"Wait!" cried the judge. "I represent Mr. Hues. I desire to see
that warrant!"
But Fentress ignored him. He addressed the crowded benches.
"Gentlemen, it is a serious matter forcibly to seize a man
without authority from the courts and expose him to the danger of
mob violence--Mr. Hues will learn this before we have done with
him."
Instantly there was a noisy demonstration that swelled into a
burst of applause, which quickly spent itself. The struggle
seemed to have narrowed to an individual, contest for supremacy
between Fentress and the judge. On the edge of the railed off
space they confronted each other: the colonel, a tall,
well-cared-for presence; the judge shabby and unkempt. For a
moment their eyes met, while the judge's face purpled and paled,
and purpled again. The silence deepened. Fentress' thin lips
opened, twitched, but no sound came from them; then his glance
wavered and fell. He turned away.
"Mr. Sheriff!" he called sharply.
"All right, Colonel!"
"Take your man into custody," ordered Fentress.
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