The Long Lane's Turning
the other had said, and without the word from the moveless figure on the rear seat, he would obey till the engine stopped or his hand went numb on the wheel. Hamlets flashed by-huddles of flaring street-lights-then shadow and blankness again. Now and then a hollow rumbling
is chauffeur's. He was sharply conscious of all about him, every sense recording its message unerringly. He felt the wind-flung dust, heard the chatter of the exhaust, grasped acutely at each detail of sight and sound in the reeling panorama through which they passed with such arrow-like
come sudden composure-a strange, appalling peace, in which was no appreciation of place or time or fact, but yet a curious
matter?" he muttered. "He sure never did want to go hell-bent-for-election like this before.
ossing. He threw himself forward on the gear and with a grinding roar the brakes took hold. Plu
ad lifted as it had come. He did not wake fully at once, for the breaking of the spell left him in a strange confusion through which he saw but dimly the outlines of the real present. He found himself sitting dazed and sh
tanding impotent before the bar, saw the despairing face of the man beside him, the puzzled countenances about him, the dim lamps. He heard verdict and sentence. He
of good repute, of disdain for the intemperate, of brilliant accomplishment and regular habit, was gazing with horrified eyes at the Harry Sevier he had unwittingly b
"Bob, wher
g, sir," he said. "There's the Black Maria." He pointed to one side, where the gloomy vehic
shuddering to a stop right athwart the road. A train-man with a lantern jumped down, followed by a couple of passengers. Harry opened the d
blew aside, the lights of the motor glinted from a nickel star-the badge of a deputy-sheriff. They had passed him, and
ive me a lig
took a silver match-
flaring up, for an instant showed the two faces, the sheriff's grim and tenacious, and the
s soul. There before him stood his client of that day's trial, on the last lap of his dismal journey, the man whom he, Harry Sevier, had sent ther
l. "Well, good night to yo
Harry. "Can a pr
reckon money talks as loud in a
rom his pocket and now he held them out-to
irl of his unfettered hand dashed them on the ground. "Keep your money!" he
n it well, but this is an ugly one. Lord love you, they'll soon take that out of him over there! Come along, you," he
e flung words his judicial mind recognised the indictment. From the little wall-cabinet in his inner-office had crept a thing of shame and humiliation to himself. He saw this now suddenly swell and grow
leather cushions
Bob," he sa