Lightnin'

Gentleness had always been such an ever-present quality in Bill's treatment of Millie that she forgot her anger for the moment and hastened to reply, as she smiled sweetly at Bill, "Daddy has always been most kind to me and every one else."

This was an opportunity to lead her into an admission which might immediately quash all of the grounds of the complaint. Marvin saw it at once and took advantage of it. "Now, Miss Buckley," he argued, "the complaint asks for a divorce on the grounds of drunkenness, failure to provide and cruelty. In all honesty you know that not one of these is the real reason that Mrs. Jones has asked for a divorce, don't you?"

Unused to the ways of the law and its peculiar methods of arriving at conclusions, Millie was perplexed. The only excuse in her mind for the divorce had been that it would bring about the sale of the property and that Mrs. Jones would thereby have sufficient money with which to find Bill, which would mean happiness for the three of them. Had Thomas not intervened with an objection which the judge sustained, she would have given her answer, but as it was she remained silent.

Marvin, determined to prove Bill Jones's simple sweetness, so that he would at least be understood by the world, went to his purpose again.

"Miss Buckley, you know that Mr. Jones loved his wife, loved her devotedly, don't you?" he asked.

Townsend beamed in judicial humor upon Marvin and laughed. "How can she know that? That's not an astute question for a lawyer to ask, and I don't sanction such methods."

The question, however, had brought back a certain softness in Millie's attitude. Forgetting for the moment her dislike of Marvin, she smiled, but to regret it and to efface the smile with a frown.

His examination of Millie had been difficult for Marvin. Into his mind had crowded old memories – happy walks along the cliff in San Francisco, afternoons in Golden Gate Park, and days in the office when he had dared to hope that some day she might learn to care. His heart leaped at the thought of moonlight strolls in the mountain woods and along the shores of the lake. Those were days when she had interested herself in his plans and it all came back to him with desperate force as her unintentional smile awakened a poignant longing within him. A whirlwind of reminiscent emotion caught him in its teeth.

"If it please your Honor," he said, his eyes shining, "there is one thing that a woman does know, and that is whether a man loves her or not! She may believe a man to be a contemptible liar. She may say that she will hate and despise him always, but somehow down in her heart, if he really loves her, she knows it!"

Forgetting that there was such a place as a court-room, or that he was defending a divorce suit against Bill Jones, all he saw was the scorn in the eyes of the girl he loved. All he felt was that he was fighting single-handed against overwhelming odds for his own happiness. He leaned close to the witness-chair and looked into the girl's eyes, and she, seeing in his eyes the thing that she had tried to forget through all the long and sorrowful months, turned away from him, lest she should betray the longing that lurked in her own heart. But Marvin's fervid plea flamed higher and higher and he went on:

"If a woman is a man's ideal – if he would gladly lay down his life for her – she knows it and no matter what she says about him or what anybody else says about him the knowledge that he cares more for her than for anything else in the entire universe must count for something, and I contend, your Honor – "

He got no farther. The whole court-room was in roars of laughter and the sheriff's gavel was knocking loudly on his table. Millie, unable to bear the situation any longer, was sobbing aloud. Townsend arose quickly and, leaning over his desk, shook a warning finger at Marvin.

"Hold on there!" he called, half in humor and half in anger. "Are you trying a divorce case or are you making love?"

The laughter in the court-room began again, but subsided, for there was something in the situation that struck deep into the hearts of the spectators and they knew that, grotesque as it might appear, shattered romance was stalking before them.

Marvin, himself once again, lowered his voice and pleaded, apologetically: "I beg your pardon, your Honor. I did not mean to go so far." Smiling sadly at Millie, he added, "That is all, Miss Buckley."

"I should say it is quite enough!" satirized the judge. "I think we had better get back to business."

Without looking at Marvin, Millie left the stand and took her seat beside her mother. Thomas called Everett Hammond as the next witness.

Hammond, although outwardly nonchalant, was inwardly ill at ease. Marvin's appearance in court followed so closely by Bill's arrival was a contact that puzzled him. Millie's hesitancy as a witness was another feature which he felt was not altogether in favor of the cause of the Golden Gate Land Company. During her testimony he had kept close watch of her mother, who several times wept audibly, burying her face in her handkerchief. He knew that he and Thomas were playing a close game and that the slightest contradiction in his testimony might set Mrs. Jones to thinking in the wrong direction; especially with Bill Jones in the court-room, his eyes divided between the witness-stand and his wife. He assumed an air of bravado as he took the stand, glaring down at Marvin, who was seated not far from him and who was smiling blandly upon him.

Preliminaries over, Thomas launched into Hammond's direct examination. "How long have you known Mr. and Mrs. Jones?" he asked.

"I met them first," Hammond answered, pausing to think, "about seven months ago."

"Kindly tell the court how you happened to meet them."

Hammond, looking at the judge, answered: "I was asked to consider the purchase of a piece of property belonging to Mrs. Jones. I had some other business near by and stopped off at the Joneses' place."

"What was the other business?" was Thomas's next question. He glanced at Marvin, who met his look with straightforward, unswerving eyes, which turned Thomas's attention to his witness.

"The Pacific Railroad," said Hammond, scowling at Marvin, "was being robbed of timber in that locality and they sent me with the sheriff," he nodded toward Blodgett, who flushed at the memory of that embarrassing incident, "to arrest the thief."

"Who was the thief?" There was triumph in Thomas's voice as he asked the question.

"His name is John Marvin."

"Since that time, you have had dealings with Mrs. Jones, have you not?"

"I have, and I have always found her to be an honest and splendid woman." Hammond smiled over at her.

"And Mr. Jones was a source of trouble and great embarrassment to her, wasn't he?"

This time Hammond made Bill the goal of his insulting focus. "Yes, sir, he was! He was shiftless and drinking, cruel and untruthful." With a malicious sneer he added, "Why, to my knowledge, he's the biggest liar in the county!"

All this time, without a word, Bill had been sitting on the edge of his chair, accepting the testimony against him in the same indifferent manner in which he met most of life's difficulties. Hammond's last remark proved to be the first telling blow at his equanimity. It was too much! This Hammond person had called him, Bill Jones, a liar! In Lightnin's code, shrunken and old though he was, there could be but one answer. Calmly and quietly Bill stood up and began to draw his faded blue coat from his bent old shoulders.

CHAPTER XVII

Every eye in the court-room was on Bill. There was even a cheer, which the judge, half out of his chair, failed to reprove. Townsend knew that Bill was sore tried and had been brought to the point where his temper was not an impulse, but a last resort. His personal sympathies were with Lightnin's fistic intent. However, the order of his court must be observed and he signed to Blodgett, who raised his gavel. Before it was necessary to bring it down upon the table Marvin was quickly on his feet. He put a restraining hand on Bill's arm and with the other hand drew the coat back into its place on the bent shoulders.

In amused contempt, Thomas continued his examination.

"Did you ever see Mr. Jones drunk?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, I never saw him any other way." Hammond laughed lightly.

"And you saw him abuse his wife?"

"Yes, sir."

"You heard him tell lies?"

"I did indeed. Why, he broke the law by harboring a fugitive from justice in his house."

Thomas, having brought skilfully to the attention of the court the numerous charges that he hoped would result in securing Mrs. Jones a divorce, dismissed Hammond from the stand.

His experience as a witness had not been a joyous one to Hammond, and he prepared to take quick action on his dismissal, but Marvin had other intentions.

Standing between Hammond and his way of escape, Marvin exclaimed: "I am not through with the witness, Mr. Thomas! I also have some questions to ask him." With a scowl Hammond threw himself back into the chair.

"You say, Mr. Hammond, that you had business dealings with Mrs. Jones? Do you mind telling the court what that business was?"

"Not at all," said Hammond, defiantly. "I purchased three hundred and twenty-nine acres of land, including buildings, from Mrs. Jones for some clients of mine."

"Why didn't you consult Mr. Jones?" asked Marvin.

"Because Mrs. Jones was the sole owner," sneered Hammond.

Marvin looked him in the eye and said, slowly:

"You had seen the records?"

Hammond grunted in acquiescence and Marvin went on, each question bringing his victim nearer to an outburst of temper, which he hoped would lead to the self-contradictions he was sparring for.