"
"Reckon I'll git up," said Pete. "I'm all right now."
"Better wait till I come back from the office. Be back about six. Got
to write some letters. Your case--called next Thursday." And Sheriff
Owen departed, leaving Pete staring at yellow wallpaper sprinkled with
blue roses.
CHAPTER XLII
"OH, SAY TWO THOUSAND"
Just one week from the day on which Pete arrived in Sanborn he was
sitting in the witness chair, telling an interested judge and jury, and
a more than interested attorney for the defense, the story of his
life--"every hour of which," the attorney for the defense shrewdly
observed in addressing the court, "has had a bearing upon the case."
Pete spoke quietly and at times with considerable unconscious humor.
He held back nothing save the name of the man who had killed Brent,
positively refusing to divulge Brevoort's name. His attitude was
convincing--and his story straightforward and apparently without a
flaw, despite a spirited cross-examination by the State. The trial was
brief, brisk, and marked by no wrangling. Sheriff Owen's testimony,
while impartial, rather favored the prisoner than otherwise.
Pages:
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531