"But my dear friend, don't you realize that mere statements unadorned
and uncorroborated won't get you anywhere in court?"
"All right, don't try to defend me then. Let the thing go as it will.
That is all I have to say." And from this decision no one had been able
to shake him. His lawyer was nearly crazy. He had raked the county for
witnesses. He had dug into the annals of that night in every possible
direction. He had unearthed things that it seemed no living being would
have thought of, and yet he had not found the one thing of which he was
in search, positive evidence that Mark Carter had been elsewhere and
otherwise employed at the time of the shooting.
"Don't bother so much about it Tony," said Mark once when they were
talking it over, or the lawyer was talking it over and Mark was
listening. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters any more!" and his voice
was weary as if all hope had vanished from him.
Anthony Drew looked at him in despair: "Sometimes I almost think you want to die," he said. "Do you
think I shall let you go when you pulled me back from worse than death?
No, Mark, old man, we're going to pull you through somehow, though I
don't know how. If I were a praying man I'd say that this was the time
to pray. Mark, what's become of that kid you used to think so much of,
that was always tagging after you? Billy,--was that his name?"
A wan smile flitted across Mark's face, and a stiff little drawing of
the old twinkle about eyes and lips: "I think he'll turn up some time."
The lawyer eyed him keenly: "Mark, I believe you've got something up your sleeve. I believe that
kid knows something and you won't let him tell. Where is he?"
"I don't know, Tony" and Mark looked at him straight with clear eyes,
and the lawyer knew he was telling the truth.
Just at the last day Anthony Drew found out about the session meeting.
But from Mark he got no further statement than the first one. Mark
would not talk. An ordinary lawyer, one that had not been saved
himself, would have given up the defense as hopeless. Anthony simply
wouldn't let Mark go undefended. If there were no evidence he would
make some somehow, and so he worked hoping against hope up to the very
last minute. He stood now, tall, anxious, a fine face, though showing
the marks of wreck behind him, dark hair silvered at the edges, fine
deep lines about his eyes and brows, looking over the assembled throng
with nervous hurrying eyes. At last he seemed to find what he wanted
and came quickly down to where the minister sat in an obscure corner,
whispering a few words with him. They went out together for a few
minutes and when they came back the minister was grave and thoughtful.
He himself had scoured the country round about quietly for Billy, and
he was deeply puzzled. He had promised to tell what he knew.