When this conversation was continued, it was upon a new and unexpected line. “Cotton,” remarked the prisoner, “I perceive that you are a man of education. It occurs to me that once upon a time you must have been what the world calls a gentleman.” The blood started into the camp-marshal's face. “You go to hell!” said he.
“I did not intend to ask questions,” continued Hal. “I can well understand that you mightn't care to answer them. My point is that, being an ex-gentleman, you may appreciate certain aspects of this case which would be beyond the understanding of a nigger-driver like Stone, or an efficiency expert like Cartwright. One gentleman can recognise another, even in a miner's costume. Isn't that so?”
Hal paused for an answer, and the marshal gave him a wary look. “I suppose so,” he said.
“Well, to begin with, one gentleman does not smoke without inviting another to join him.”
The man gave another look. Hal thought he was going to consign him to hades once more; but instead he took a cigar from his vest-pocket and held it out.
“No, thank you,” said Hal, quietly. “I do not smoke. But I like to be invited.”
There was a pause, while the two men measured each other.
“Now, Cotton,” began the prisoner, “you pictured the scene at my trial. Let me carry on the story for you. You have your case all framed up, your hand-picked jury in the box, and your hand-picked judge on the bench, your hand-picked prosecuting-attorney putting through the job; you are ready to send your victim to prison, for an example to the rest of your employés. But suppose that, at the climax of the proceedings, you should make the discovery that your victim is a person who cannot be sent to prison?”
“Cannot be sent to prison?” repeated the other. His tone was thoughtful. “You'll have to explain.”
“Surely not to a man of your intelligence! Don't you know, Cotton, there are people who cannot be sent to prison?”
The camp-marshal smoked his cigar for a bit. “There are some in this county,” said he. “But I thought I knew them all.”
“Well,” said Hal, “has it never occurred to you that there might be some in this state?”
There followed a long silence. The two men were gazing into each other's eyes; and the more they gazed, the more plainly Hal read uncertainty in the face of the marshal.
“Think how embarrassing it would be!” he continued. “You have your drama all staged—as you did the night before last—only on a larger stage, before a more important audience; and at the dénouement you find that, instead of vindicating yourself before the workers in North Valley, you have convicted yourself before the public of the state. You have shown the whole community that you are law-breakers; worse than that—you have shown that you are jack-asses!”
This time the camp-marshal gazed so long that his cigar went out. And meantime Hal was lounging in his chair, smiling at him strangely. It was as if a transformation was taking place before the marshal's eyes; the miner's “jumpers” fell away from Hal's figure, and there was a suit of evening-clothes in their place!
............