estionable fortune but unquestioned affection. The trial proved a
feast of oratory, a mass of contradictory evidence. Before it began a
juror named Jacob Mayer accused L. Sokalasky with offering him a bribe.
Sokalasky, brought into court, denied the charge. And there it ended,
save that thenceforth the "twelve good men and true" were exiled even
from their families by the order of Judge Hagar. None the less it seemed
quite evident as a morning paper cynically remarked, that the stable had
been locked after the horses were stolen.

On January 17 the Cora jury announced its inability to agree. The trial
ended minus a conviction.

* * * * *

Ned McGowan, James P. Casey, Sheriff Scannell and his aid, Billy
Mulligan, had frequent conferences in the offices of Casey's _Sunday
Times_. Broderick held more or less aloof from his political
subordinates these troublous days. But Charley Duane, former chief
engineer of the fire department, was their frequent consort. The _Sunday
Times_ concentrated its fire chiefly on James King of William. It was
his biting, unstudied verbiage that struck "The Federal Brigade" on
the raw.

Early in May the _Times_ accused Thomas King, the _Bulletin_ editor's
brother, of scheming by illegal means to gain the office that
Richardson's death had left vacant.

To this imputation, the _Bulletin_ made a sharp reply. Among other items
calculated to enrage his foe appeared the following:

"The fact that Casey has been an inmate of Sing Sing prison
in New York is no offense against the laws of this State; nor
is the fact of his having stuffed himself through the ballot
box, as elected to the Board of Supervisors from a district
where it is said he was not even a candidate, any
justification why Mr. Bagley should shoot Casey, however
richly he may deserve having his neck stretched for such
fraud upon the people...."

There was more, but this was all that Casey read. He tore the paper into
shreds and stamped upon it, inarticulate with fury. When at last he
found his tongue a flood of obscenities flowed. He drew a pistol from
his pocket; brandishing the weapon, he reached for the door knob. But
Doane, who had brought the paper, caught his arm.

"Don't be a fool. Put that pistol away," he warned. "The public's
crazy-mad about the Cora verdict. They won't stand for shooting King."

"Listen," said McGowan, craftily, "go up there and