of rotten beef!  That lean, hungry wolfhound would tear his tongue out by the roots if he even opened his mouth; claw wide open his vitals.  And old Tutt was fixing him with the eye of a basilisk and slowly turning him to stone.  Somebody sure had welshed!  He had once been in a side show at Coney Island where the room simulated the motion of an ocean steamer.  The courtroom began to do the same—­slanting this way and that and spinning obliquely round and round.  Through the swirl of its gyrations he could see old Tutt’s vulture eyes, growing bigger, fiercer, more sinister every instant.  It was all up with him!  It was an execution, and the crowd down below were thirsting for his blood, waiting to tear him to bits!

“You saw this boy throw a brick through Mr. Froelich’s window, didn’t you?” coaxed Judge Watkins insinuatingly.  Delany sensed that the old white fox was trying to trick him—­get him for perjury.  No!  He wouldn’t perjure himself again!  No!  But what could he do?  His head swung stupidly, swaying like a dazed bull’s.  The sweat poured from every pore in his vast bulk.  A hoarse noise—­like a death rattle—­came from his throat.  The room dissolved in waves of white and black.  Then in a vertigo he toppled forward and pitched headlong to the floor.

* * * * *

Deacon Terry, star reporter for the Tribune, who happened to be there, told his city editor at noon that he had never passed such a pleasant morning.  What he saw and heard really constituted, he alleged, a great big full front-page story “in a box”—­though it got only four sticks on the eleventh page—­being crowded out by the armistice.  Why, he said, it was the damnedest thing ever!  There had been no evidence against the defendant at all!  And after the cop had collapsed Judge Watkins had refused to dismiss the case and directed Mr. Tutt to go on in his own way.

The proceeding had resolved itself into a criminal trial of Hogan and Simpkins.  Tony’s good character had been established in three minutes, and then half a dozen reputable witnesses had testified that the brick had been thrown by an entirely different boy.  Finally, Sussman and his assistant both swore positively that Delany had been in the back of the tobacco shop with his back to the door, holding them up for cigars, when the crash came.

Terry wanted two columns; he almost cried when they cut his great big full-page story to: 

    SHYSTERS accused of extortion

A dramatic scene was enacted at the conclusion of a minor case in Part I of the General Sessions yesterday, when upon the motion of Ephraim Tutt, of the firm of Tutt & Tutt, Judge Simeon Watkins, sitting as a committing magistrate, held for the action of the grand jury Raphael B. Hogan and Joseph P. Simpkins, his assistant, for the crime of extortion, and directed that their case be referred to the Grievance Committee of the County Lawyers’