. Emerson smiled that evening as he
saw it trailing its snaky length over the back of a chair and stuffed
it in the side pocket of his coat, thinking he would give it to
Ellhorn the next time his friend should come to the jail.

Judge Harlin thought Emerson Mead unaccountably despondent about the
probable outcome of his trial, and at times even indifferent to his
fate. He wondered much why this man, formerly of such buoyant and
determined nature, should suddenly collapse, in this weak-kneed
fashion, lose all confidence in himself, and seem to care so little
what happened to him. The lawyer finally decided that it was all on
account of his client's honesty and uprightness of character, which
would not allow him, being guilty, to make an effort to prove that he
was not, and he lived in daily expectation of an order from Mead to
change his plea to guilty. The time was drawing near for the opening
of the case when Judge Harlin one day hurried excitedly to the jail
for a conference with Mead.

"Emerson," he said, "some member of the last grand jury has been
leaking, and it has come to my ears that testimony was given there by
some one who declared he saw you kill Whittaker. And I've just found
out that the other side has got a witness, presumably the same one,
who will swear to the same thing."

Mead's face set into a grim defiance that rejoiced Harlin more than
anything that had happened since his client's imprisonment, as he
answered:

"I've been expecting this. Who is it and what's his testimony?"

"I haven't been able to learn any details about it--merely that he
will swear he saw you kill Whittaker. I'm not positive who the man is,
but I feel reasonably sure I've spotted him. I think he is a Mexican,
a red-headed Mexican, called Antone Colorow."

Mead nodded. "I think likely," he said, and then he told Judge Harlin
how Antone had tried to lasso him and of the angry man's threats of
revenge for his broken wrists. "I've expected all along," he added,
"that they'd come out with some such lay as that. I don't see how we
can buck against it," he went on, despondently, "for I can't prove an
alibi. Unless you can break down his testimony we might as well give
up."

"I guess there won't be any difficulty about that," said Harlin
assuringly. "What you've just told me will be a very important matter,
and if I can keep Mexicans off the jury it won't take much to convince
Americans that he is lying, just because he is a Me