The Red Seal | Page 4

of the prisoners sitting in the "cage" to step outside, emphasized his order with a muttered imprecation to hurry. A slouching figure finally shambled past him and stopped some little distance from the group in front of the Judge's bench.
"House-breaking," announced the clerk. "Charge brought by -" He looked up at the two girls.
"Miss Helen McIntyre," answered one of the twins composedly. "Daughter of Colonel Charles McIntyre of this city."
"Charge brought by Miss Helen McIntyre," continued the clerk, "against -" and his pointed finger indicated the seedy looking man slouching before them.
"Smith," said the latter, and his husky voice was barely audible.
"Smith," repeated the clerk. "First name -?"
"John," was the answer, given after a slight pause.
"John Smith, you are charged by Miss Helen McIntyre with house-breaking. What say you - guilty or not guilty?"
The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other and shot an uneasy look about him.
"Not guilty," he responded.
At that instant Helen caught sight of Benjamin Clymer and his companion, Philip Rochester, and her pale cheeks flushed faintly at the lawyer's approach. He had time but for a hasty handshake before the clerk administered the oath to the prisoner and the witnesses in the case.
Rochester walked back and resumed his seat by Clymer. Propping himself in the corner made by the bench and the cage, inside of which sat the prisoners, he opened his right hand and unfolded a small paper. He read the brief penciled message it contained not once but a dozen times. Folding the paper into minute dimensions he tucked it carefully inside his vest pocket and glanced sideways at Clymer. The banker hardly noticed his uneasy movements as he sat regarding Helen McIntyre standing in the witness box. Although paler than usual, the girl's manner was quiet, but Clymer, a close student of human nature, decided she was keeping her composure by will power alone, and his interest grew.
The Judge, from the Bench, was also regarding the handsome witness and the burglar with close attention. Colonel Charles McIntyre, a wealthy manufacturer, had, upon his retirement from active business, made the National Capital his home, and his name had become a household word for philanthropy, while his twin daughters were both popular in Washington's gay younger set. Several reporters of local papers, attracted by the mention of the McIntyre name, as well as by the twins' appearance, watched the scene with keen expectancy, eager for early morning "copy."
As the Assistant District Attorney rose to question Helen McIntyre, the Judge addressed him.
"Is the prisoner represented by counsel?" he asked.
For reply the burglar shook his head. Rising slowly to his feet, Philip Rochester advanced to the man's side.
"If it please the court," he began, "I will take the case for the prisoner."
His offer received a quick acceptance from the Bench, but the scowl with which the burglar favored him was not pleasant. Hitching at his frayed flannel collar, the man partly turned his back on the lawyer and listened with a heavy frown to Helen's quick answers to the questions put to her.
"While waiting for my sister to return from a dance early this morning," she stated, "I went downstairs into the library, and as I entered it I saw a man slip across the room and into a coat closet. I retained enough presence of mind to steal across to the closet and turn the key in the door; then I ran to the window and fortunately saw Officer O'Ryan standing under the arc light across the street. I called him and he arrested the prisoner."
Her simple statement evoked a nod of approval from the Assistant District Attorney, and Rochester frowned as he waived his right to cross-examine her. The next witness was Officer O'Ryan, and his testimony confirmed Helen's.
"The prisoner was standing back among the coats in the closet," he said. "My automatic against his ribs brought him out."
"Did you search your prisoner?" asked Rochester, as he took the witness.
"Yes, sir.
"Find any concealed weapons?"
"No, sir."
"A burglar's kit?"
"No, sir."
"Did the prisoner make a statement after his arrest?"
"No, sir; he came along peaceably enough, hardly a word out of him," acknowledged O'Ryan regretfully. He enjoyed a reputation on the force as a "scrapper," and a willing prisoner was a disappointment to his naturally pugnacious disposition.
"Did you search the house?"
"Sure, and haven't I been telling you I did?" answered O'Ryan; his pride in his achievement in arresting a burglar in so fashionable a neighborhood as Sheridan Circle was giving place to resentment at Rochester's manner of addressing him. At a sign from the lawyer, he left the witness stand, and Rochester addressed the Judge.
"I ask the indulgence of the court for more time," he commenced, "that I may consult my client and find if he desires to call witnesses."
"The court finds," responded the Judge, "that