The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him. Paul Leicester Ford

civil suits will not be compromised till the criminal one is finished."

      "But I tell you the criminal one is dead. Squashed. Bohlmann and I have seen the right people, and they've seen the District Attorney. That case won't even go to the grand jury. So now, drop it, and say what you'll settle the civil suits for?"

      "James Coldman shall go to prison for killing those children," said Peter, "and till he does, it is waste time to talk of dropping or settling anything."

      "Humph," half laughed the lawyer, though with obvious disgust at the mulishness in Peter's face and voice. "You think you know it all. But you don't. You can work for ten years, and that case will be no nearer trial than it is to-day. I tell you, young man, you don't know New York."

      "I don't know New York," said Peter, "but—"

      "Exactly," interrupted Dummer. "And I do."

      "Probably," replied Peter quietly, "You may know New York, Mr. Dummer, but you don't know me. That case shall be tried."

      "Well," laughed Dummer, "if you'll agree not to press the civil suits, till that's out of the way, we shall have no need to compromise. Good-day."

      The next morning Peter went to the District Attorney's office, and inquired for him.

      "He's gone to Bar Harbor for a couple of weeks' vacation," he was told.

      "Whom must I see in his stead?" And after some time Peter was brought face to face with the acting official.

      "Mr. Nelson told me he should present the Coldman case to the grand jury to-day, and finding he has left the city, I wish to know who has it in charge?" asked Peter.

      "He left all the presentments with me," the deputy replied, "but there was no such case as that."

      "Could he have left it with some one else to attend to?"

      "No."

      Peter went back to his office, took down the Code and went over certain sections. His eyes had rather a sad look as they gazed at his wall, after his study, as if what he had read had not pleased him. But if the eyes were sad, the heavy jaw had a rigidness and setness which gave no indication of weakness or yielding.

      For two weeks Peter waited, and then once more invaded officialdom.

      "The District Attorney's engaged, and can't see you," he was told. Peter came again in the afternoon, with the same result. The next morning, brought only a like answer, and this was duplicated in the afternoon. The third day he said he would wait, and sat for hours in the ante-room, hoping to be called, or to intercept the officer. But it was only to see man after man ushered into the private office, and finally to be told that the District Attorney had gone to lunch, and would not return that day. The man who told him this grinned, and evidently considered it a good joke, nor had Peter been unconscious that all the morning the clerks and underlings had been laughing, and guying him as he waited. Yet his jaw was only set the more rigidly, as he left the office.

      He looked up the private address of the officer in the directory, and went to see him that evening. He was wise enough not to send in his name, and Mr. Nelson actually came into the hall to see him.

      The moment he saw Peter, however, he said: "Oh, it's you. Well, I never talk business except in business hours."

      "I have tried to see you—" began Peter.

      "Try some more," interrupted the man, smiling, and going toward the parlor.

      Peter followed him, calmly. "Mr. Nelson," he said, "do you intend to push that case?"

      "Of course," smiled Nelson. "After I've finished four hundred indictments that precede it."

      "Not till then?"

      "No."

      "Mr. Nelson, can't you overlook politics for a moment, and think of—"

      "Who said anything of politics?" interrupted Nelson, "I merely tell you there are indictments which have been in my office for five years and are yet to be tried, and that your case is going to take its turn." Nelson passed into the back room, leaving his caller alone.

      Peter left the room, and passed out of the front door, just as a man was about to ring the bell.

      "Is Mr. Nelson in?" asked the man.

      "I have just left him, Mr. Dummer," said Peter.

      "Ah! Good-evening, Mr. Stirling. I think I can guess your business. Well. How do you come on?" Dummer was obviously laughing internally.

      Peter started down the steps without answering.

      "Perhaps I can help you?" said Dummer. "I know Mr. Nelson very well in politics, and so does Mr. Bohlmann. If you'll tell me what you are after, I'll try to say a good word for you?"

      "I don't need your help, thank you," said Peter calmly.

      "Good," said Dummer. "You think a briefless lawyer of thirty can go it alone, do you, even against the whole city government?"

      "I know I have not influence enough to get that case pushed, Mr. Dummer, but the law is on my side, and I'm not going to give up yet."

      "Well, what are you going to do about it?" said Dummer, sneeringly.

      "Fight," said Peter, walking away.

      He went back to his office, and sitting at his desk, wrote a formal letter to the District Attorney, calling his attention to the case, and asking information as to when it would be brought to trial. Then he copied this, and mailed the original. Then he read the Code again. After that he went over the New York reports, making notes. For a second time the morning sun found Peter still at his desk. But this time his head was not bowed upon his blotter, as if he were beaten or dead. His whole figure was stiff with purpose, and his jaw was as rigid as a mastiff's.

CHAPTER XV.

       Table of Contents

THE FIGHT.

       Table of Contents

      The only reply which Peter received to his letter to the District-Attorney, was a mere formal reiteration of that officer's verbal statement, that the case would be taken up in its due order, after those which preceded it had been dealt with. Peter knew enough of the numberless cases which never reach trial to understand that this meant in truth, the laying aside of the case, till it was killed by the statute of limitations.

      On receiving this reply, Peter made another move, by going to three newspapers, and trying to see their managing editors. One declined to see him. A second merely told Peter, after his statement, which the editor only allowed him partly to explain, that he was very busy and could not take time to look into it, but that Peter might come again in about a month. The third let Peter tell his story, and then shook his head:

      "I have no doubt you are right, but it isn't in shape for us to use. Such a case rarely goes to trial for six months or a year, and so, if we begin an attack now, it will simply fall flat. If you can get us a written statement from the District Attorney that he doesn't intend to push the case, we can do something, but I suppose he's far too shrewd to commit himself."

      "Yes."

      "Then there's no use in beginning an attack, for you really have no powder. Come in again a year from now, and then we may be able to say something, if he hasn't acted in the meantime."

      Peter left the office, knowing that that chance of pressure was gone. If the papers of the Republican party would not use it, it was idle spending time in seeing or trying to see the editors of the Democratic papers. He wasted therefore no more efforts on newspapers.

      The next three days Peter passed in the New York Law Institute