The Forged Note Part 13

"Shut up!" commanded Sidney. "Haven't you heard me say I had but ten fifty?"

"Then do'n go, do'n go; stay with me!"

"Like h.e.l.l, I will!" exclaimed Wyeth with a laugh. The officers standing about, laughed also, and said:

"Don't be 'fraid, honey. You'll have lots a-company."

Wyeth handed over ten dollars, and a moment later pa.s.sed into the street where a soft rain was falling. "Jesus," he muttered; "I'm sure glad I kept that money." And then, ere he had got far, he heard a cell door clang, and thought about Demon. At the same moment, there came to his ears the music of many throats singing: "Don't you leave me here!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"_Jedge L'yles' Co't_"

Wyeth sneaked into the room without waking Thurman that morning. Nor did he inform him of his good fortune, when the other arose two hours later to go to work. He did not sleep any that night, and, since he had to be to the court at eight-thirty or forfeit his bond, he arose early, dressed, and in due time, he sat in the large theatre.

Perhaps if Sidney Wyeth had suspected what would come to pa.s.s that morning, he would have forfeited the bond by not putting in his appearance; but when he put up the collateral the night before, he had observed a mark of respect in the officers. He was sufficiently acquainted with the courts from a distance, to realize that the average Negro brought before that tribunal--with the possible exception of a boot-legger--seldom brought any money or had any at home, and invariably went in great numbers to the stockade. Moreover, the sargent and the clerk, too, had advised him that he might not possibly be fined at all.

Therefore, when he left for the court, he had no thought other than that he would go free, and have his money returned.

"It will, of course," they had said, "depend upon how Judge Loyal feels when you appear."

He had heard something regarding this "feeling" before. He meditated as he made his way in that direction. And still he recalled more of what he had heard, which was to the effect that if "his stomach was upset, look out!"

He hoped Judge Loyal didn't suffer with dyspepsia or indigestion....

As he neared that place he now remembered so well, he was overwhelmed with memories. He recalled this same court, more than ten years before.

It was in a leading magazine. It was, moreover, he recalled, an interesting story, too. "Wonder if it will prove so today," he mused silently....

And now he was inside the court room. He was early, and so were many others. He recalled, with another twitch of the memory, that Judge Loyal had presided ten years before. He would see him today. "There he is now," he said to himself, as an old man with white hair came upon the platform, and took a seat behind the bench.

But it was the clerk. Judge Loyal came later, so did others, many others.

And now all that he had read in that article many years before, suddenly came back to him clearly. It overwhelmed him. The article concerned that court--and Negroes--Negroes--Negroes--a court of Negroes. And now he was a part of them. Although on the outside, he felt guilty. He was supposed to answer when his name was called.

The court room was filling rapidly. They were herded behind huge doors, to the left of the room. Black men and a few whites. A ma.s.s of criminal humanity. He shuddered. He wished now to be over and out of it as soon as possible. And then he experienced a cold fear. It became stronger. It developed until it became a chilly premonition that Judge Loyal (Jedge L'yles, as these Negroes called him) would be feeling badly that day.

This feeling persisted until it became a reality.

It was now eight-forty. In ten minutes court would begin. But still others came, and came, and came. Women and men, boys and girls--even children. And eighty per cent of them were Negroes, his people. Would they never quit coming? What manner of business did these people conduct that brought so many into court? And at last came the judge. He was, in all appearance, a young man. Evidently he was not, because Sidney had been told that he had been on that bench for twenty-five years.

Court was then opened. Inside a fencing, many white people sat in chairs. Who they were, or what part of the proceeding they represented, he could not tell. Prisoners were then being arraigned. From somewhere, he did not see, but it was not from the detention room where the "_great_" herd was, a young Negro of striking appearance was led forward. He was tall and slender, and what caught the attention of Sidney Wyeth was, that there was nothing criminal in his appearance. He was about twenty-five years of age, and wore shackles about his ankles, as well as upon his wrists. He made a pathetic picture. Sidney listened carefully, as he stood before the judge, while talking in an undertone.

He could not hear what was said, but, presently, the prisoner was led outside and away. He never learned what charge was made against this young man, although he would have liked to know.

On a table that stood to one side of the bench, behind which the judge and clerk sat, were several cases of liquor.

Evidence against some poor devil was strong, thought Wyeth.

The gavel fell.

The first prisoner brought forward and placed before the judge, was a Negro of medium size and height, and about middle age. He did not possess the look of a criminal either. In fact, not all of these people, or any great part of them, appeared to be criminal, if Sidney Wyeth had observed criminology correctly. Yet there was a charge, himself for instance. This one was charged with having been drunk and making a big noise.

He admitted the charge.

"Where did you get it," demanded Judge Loyal.

"On Dalton street."

"Who from?"

"A n.i.g.g.a."

"Who was he?"

"A n.i.g.g.a."

"I don't mean that. What was his name?"

"Dunno."

"You don't know, yet you purchased enough liquor of him to get drunk, whoop it up and disturb the peace of the populace."

"Ya.s.sar."

"Did you ever see him before?"

"Nawsar."

"Was it corn whiskey or rye?"

"Niedda."

"Well--what was it?"

"Gin."

"Oh! Gin...."

"Sparrow Gin."

"Ten dollars and cost. Next!"

There was some delay before the next ones were brought forward. When they came, there was some anxiety. They were white men from one of the suburbs. As to how they happened to be in this court was a matter for conjecture; but the charge was fighting.

A witness mounted the stand by request.

"Your name is?--"