"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 252 - Judge Lawless" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

SENTENCE was scarcely uttered before men were springing forward to handle
its execution. Dave was swept aside by the onrush, which included Menz and the
other jurors. Yet Dave couldn't sicken at the thought of the fate about to
overtake Fleech.
He'd had his own share of dealing with a double-crosser, Dave had. His
thought flashed back to Delker, the glib salesman who had so neatly tricked
him
into handing over the combination to the safe in old Moyland's private office,
thus rendering Dave responsible for the ten thousand dollars that had later
disappeared. Delker, the man whom Dave had treated as a friend!
What difference would it make if Dave should prove that Delker had been
working for Judge Lawless? Even a crook could play fair, where friendship was
concerned. Which was why Dave so suddenly sided against Fleech for trying to
trick Judge Lawless. Fleech was a rat and deserved all that was coming to him!
Again, Judge Lawless was rapping with the gavel. His voice was
stentorian,
as he commanded his men to molest Fleech no further. This judge preferred
disorder in his court, but when it had taken a sufficient run, he was lenient
enough to let orderly conduct disturb the usual routine.
Reversing his gavel, he pointed across the room to a V-angle in the end
partition, indicating that Fleech was to be taken there. Dragged by his
captors, the mauled victim was carried to the spot in question and flung into
the angle where Lawless had ordered him deposited.
That was to become a bloody angle!
Still using his gavel as a pointer, Judge Lawless was graphically
gesturing what came next. He was indicating men to the number of six; as he
pointed each one out, he stabbed the gavel handle Fleech's way.
They understood well enough, for Dave saw them either draw or pick up
discarded revolvers in order to form an impromptu firing squad. Cringing with
battered face half buried in his hand, Fleech didn't witness the process, but
Dave did, and it snapped him from his trance.
No longer could Dave side with Lawless and his murderous tribe, not when
death was in the balance. He was shocked to think that his mind had actually
dwarfed itself to the point where it could countenance crime.
Dave still belonged in the realm of honesty, even though the world
wouldn't include him there, if it listened to Homer Moyland and the tale of
ten
thousand stolen dollars. Murder was about to happen before Dave's eyes, and it
behooved him to stop it.
Or - did it?
Again Dave's thoughts were in conflict. He was seeking justice for
himself
in his own way, otherwise he wouldn't have let Menz bring him to a meeting of
the Lawless clan. It wouldn't be crime to stand by and see Fleech die in a
manner that might not be classed as murder at all. These men who made up the
firing squad were acting according to their own lights - just as was Dave
Channey. At least, Dave could keep hands off.
Teetering on that decision, Dave sat down on a bench and stiffened
himself