It was unfortunate for everybody that Morrell should have chosen that
particular afternoon to pay one of his periodical calls. Morrell had been
tactful and judicious in his demands. Keith was not particularly afraid of
his story or the effect of it if told, but he disliked intensely the fuss
and bother of explanations and readjustments. It had seemed easier to let
things drift along. The transactions were skilfully veiled, notes were
always given, Morrell was shrewd enough to take care that it did not cost
too much. There existed not the slightest cordiality between the men, but a
tacit assumption of civil relations.
But this afternoon the sight of Morrell, seated with what seemed to Keith a
smug, superior, supercilious confidence in the best of the office chairs,
was more than Keith could stand. He was bursting with anger at the world in
general.
"You here?" he barked at Morrell, without waiting for a greeting. "Well,
I'm sick of you! Get out!"
Keith slammed his papers into a drawer, locked it and his office door, and
went directly to the office of the Bulletin. There, seated in all the
chairs, perched on the tables and window ledges, he found a representative
group. He recognized most of them, including James King of William,
Coleman, Hossfros, Isaac Bluxome, Talbot Ward, and others. A dead silence
greeted his appearance. He stopped by the door.
"You have, of course, heard the news," he said. "I have come here to state
unequivocally, and for publication, that the Cora trial will be pushed as
rapidly and as strongly as is in the power of the District Attorney's
office. And if legal evidence of corruption can be obtained, proceedings
will at once be inaugurated to indict the bribe givers."
A short silence followed this speech. Several men looked toward one
another. The tension appeared to relax a trifle.
"I am glad to hear this, sir, from your own lips," at last said Coleman
formally, "and I wish you every success."
Another short and rather embarrassed silence fell.
"I should like to state privately to you gentlemen, and not for
publication"--Keith, paused and glanced toward King, who nodded
reassuringly--"that I have evidence, but unfortunately not legal, that
James McDougall has been guilty, either personally or through agents, of
bribery and corruption; and it is my intention to undertake his disbarment
if I can possibly get proper evidence."
"Whether he bribed or didn't bribe, he knew perfectly well that Cora was
guilty," stated King positively. "And he had no right to take the case."
But at that period this was an extreme view, as it still is in the legal
mind.
"I suppose every man has a moral right to a defence," said Coleman
doubtfully. "If every lawyer should refuse to take Cora's case, as you say
McDougall should have refused, why the man would have gone undefended!"
"That's all right," returned King, undaunted, "He ought to have a lawyer--
appointed by the court--to see merely that he gets a fair trial; not a
lawyer--hired, prostituted, at a great price--to try by every technical
means to get him off."
"A lawyer must, by the ethics of his profession, take every case brought
him, I suppose," some one enunciated the ancient doctrine.
"Well, if that is the case," rejoined King hotly, "the law warps the
thinking and the morals of any man who professes it. And if I had a son to
place in life, I most certainly should not put him in a calling that
deliberately trains his mind to see things that way!"
"I am sorry you have so low an opinion," spoke up Keith from the doorway.
"I am afraid I must hold the contrary as to the nobility of my chosen
profession. It can be disgraced, I admit. That it has been disgraced, I
agree. That it can be redeemed, I am going to prove."