nable. Of course if we're lucky you won't have
to visit him. You will have to go with this bailiff now, though. Then if
things come out right we'll go home. Say, I'd like to win this case,"
he said. "I'd like to give them the laugh and see you do it. I consider
you've been pretty badly treated, and I think I made that perfectly
clear. I can reverse this verdict on a dozen grounds if they happen to
decide against you."

He and Cowperwood and the latter's father now stalked off with the
sheriff's subordinate--a small man by the name of "Eddie" Zanders, who
had approached to take charge. They entered a small room called the pen
at the back of the court, where all those on trial whose liberty had
been forfeited by the jury's leaving the room had to wait pending its
return. It was a dreary, high-ceiled, four-square place, with a window
looking out into Chestnut Street, and a second door leading off into
somewhere--one had no idea where. It was dingy, with a worn wooden
floor, some heavy, plain, wooden benches lining the four sides, no
pictures or ornaments of any kind. A single two-arm gas-pipe descended
from the center of the ceiling. It was permeated by a peculiarly stale
and pungent odor, obviously redolent of all the flotsam and jetsam of
life--criminal and innocent--that had stood or sat in here from time to
time, waiting patiently to learn what a deliberating fate held in store.

Cowperwood was, of course, disgusted; but he was too self-reliant
and capable to show it. All his life he had been immaculate, almost
fastidious in his care of himself. Here he was coming, perforce, in
contact with a form of life which jarred upon him greatly. Steger, who
was beside him, made some comforting, explanatory, apologetic remarks.

"Not as nice as it might be," he said, "but you won't mind waiting a
little while. The jury won't be long, I fancy."

"That may not help me," he replied, walking to the window. Afterward he
added: "What must be, must be."

His father winced. Suppose Frank was on the verge of a long prison term,
which meant an atmosphere like this? Heavens! For a moment, he trembled,
then for the first time in years he made a silent prayer.

Chapter XLIV

Meanwhile the great argument had been begun in the jury-room, and all
the points that had been meditatively speculated upon in the jury-box
were now being openly discussed.

It is amazingly interesting to see how a jury will waver and speculate
in a cas