CHAPTER XV.
THE FIGHT.
The only reply which Peter received to his letter to theDistrict-Attorney, was a mere formal reiteration of that officer'sverbal statement, that the case would be taken up in its due order,after those which preceded it had been dealt with. Peter knew enough ofthe numberless cases which never reach trial to understand that thismeant in truth, the laying aside of the case, till it was killed by thestatute of limitations.
On receiving this reply, Peter made another move, by going to threenewspapers, and trying to see their managing editors. One declined tosee him. A second merely told Peter, after his statement, which theeditor only allowed him partly to explain, that he was very busy andcould not take time to look into it, but that Peter might come again inabout a month. The third let Peter tell his story, and then shook hishead:
"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 webegin an attack now, it will simply fall flat. If you can get us awritten statement from the District Attorney that he doesn't intend topush the case, we can do something, but I suppose he's far too shrewd tocommit himself."
"Yes."
"Then there's no use in beginning an attack, for you really have nopowder. Come in again a year from now, and then we may be able to saysomething, if he hasn't acted in the meantime."
Peter left the office, knowing that that chance of pressure was gone. Ifthe papers of the Republican party would not use it, it was idlespending time in seeing or trying to see the editors of the Democraticpapers. He wasted therefore no more efforts on newspapers.
The next three days Peter passed in the New York Law Institute Library,deep in many books. Then he packed his bag, and took an afternoon trainfor Albany. He was going to play his last card, with the odds of athousand to one against his winning. But that very fact only nerved himthe more.
Promptly at ten o'clock, the morning after his arrival at the statecapital, he sent in his card to the Governor. Fortunately for him, themiddle of August is not a busy time with that official, and after aslight delay, he was ushered into the executive chamber.
Peter had been planning this interview for hours, and withoutexplanation or preamble, he commenced his statement. He knew that hemust interest the Governor promptly, or there would be a good chance ofhis being bowed out. So he began with a description of the cow-stables.Then he passed to the death of the little child. He sketched bothrapidly, not taking three minutes to do it, but had he been pleading forhis own life, he could not have spoken more earnestly nor feelingly.
The Governor first looked surprised at Peter's abruptness; then weary;then interested; and finally turned his revolving chair so as to put hisback to Peter. And after Peter had ended his account, he remained so fora moment. That back was very expressive to Peter. For the first time hefelt vanquished.
But suddenly the Governor turned, and Peter saw tears on his cheek. Andhe said, after a big swallow, "What do you want of me?" in a voice thatmeant everything to Peter.
"Will you listen to me for five minutes?" asked Peter, eagerly.
"Yes."
Than Peter read aloud a statement of the legal proceedings, and of hisinterviews with the District Attorney and with Dummer, in the clearestand most compact sentences he had been able to frame.
"You want me to interfere?" asked the Governor.
"Yes."
"I'm afraid it's not possible. I can of course remove the DistrictAttorney, but it must be for cause, and I do not see that you canabsolutely prove his non intention to prosecute those scoundrels."
"That is true. After study, I did not see that you could remove him. Butthere's another remedy."
"What is that?"
"Through the State Attorney you can appoint a special counsel for thiscase."
"Are you sure?"
Peter laid one of the papers in his hands before the Governor. Afterreading it, the Governor rang a bell.
"Send for Mr. Miller," he said to the boy. Then he turned, and withPeter went over the court papers, till Mr. Miller put in an appearance.
"State the matter to Mr. Miller," said the Governor, and Peter read hispaper again and told what he wished.
"The power unquestionably exists," said the Attorney-General. "But ithas not been used in many years. Perhaps I had better look into it abit."
"Go with Mr. Miller, Mr. Stirling, and work over your papers with him,"said the Governor.
"Thank you," said Peter simply, but his hand and face and voice said farmore, as he shook hands. He went out with the first look of hope hisface had worn for two years.
The ground which the Attorney-General and his subordinates had totraverse was that over which Peter had so well travelled already, thathe felt very much at home, while his notes indeed aided the study, andwere doubly welcomed, because the summer season had drained the officeof its underlings. Half as assistant, and half as principal, he workedtill three o'clock, with pleasure that grew, as he saw that the opinionof the Attorney-General seemed to agree more and more with his own. Thenthey returned to the Governor, to whom the Attorney-General gave hisopinion that his present conclusion was that the Governor could empowerhim, or some appointee, to prosecute the case.
"Well," said the Governor, "I'm glad you think so. But if we find thatit isn't possible, Mr. Stirling, I'll have a letter written to theDistrict Attorney that may scare him into proceeding with the case."
Peter thanked him, and rose to go.
"Are you going to New York at once?" asked the Governor.
"Yes. Unless I can be of use here."
"Suppose you dine with me, and take a late train?"
"It will be a great pleasure," said Peter.
"Very well. Six sharp." Then after Peter had left the room, the Governorasked, "How is he on law?"
"Very good. Clear-headed and balanced."
"He knows how to talk," said the Governor. "He brought my heart up in mymouth as no one has done in years. Now, I must get word to some of thepeople in New York to find out who he is, and if this case has anyconcealed boomerang in it."
The dinner was a very quiet one with only the Governor and his wife. Theformer must have told his better-half something about Peter, for shestudied him with a very kind look in her face, and prosaic and silent asPeter was, she did not seem bored. After the dinner was eaten, and someone called to talk politics with the Governor, she took Peter off toanother room, and made him tell her about the whole case, and how hecame to take it up, and why he had come to the Governor for help. Shecried over it, and after Peter had gone, she went upstairs and looked ather own two sleeping boys, quite large enough to fight the world ontheir own account, but still little children to the mother's heart, andhad another cry over them. She went downstairs later to the Governor'sstudy, and interrupting him in the work to which he had settled down,put her arms about his neck, and kissed him. "You must help him,William," she said. "Do everything you can to have those scoundrelspunished, and let him do it."
The Governor only laughed; but he pushed back his work, and his wife satdown, and told of her admiration and sympathy for Peter's fight. Therewas a bad time ahead for the criminal and his backers. They might havepolitical influence of the strongest character, fighting their battle,but there was a bigger and more secret one at work. Say what we please,the strongest and most subtle "pull" this world as yet contains is theunder-current of a woman's influence.
Peter went back to New York that night, feeling hopeful, yet doubtful.It almost seemed impossible that he had succeeded, yet at twenty-three,failure is hard to believe in. So he waited, hoping to see some move onthe part of the State, and dreaming of nothing better. But better came,for only five days after his return his mail brought him a largeenvelope, and inside that envelope was a special commission, which madePeter a deputy of the Attorney-General, to prosecute in the Court ofSessions, the case of "The People of the State of New York _versus_James Goldman." If any one could have seen Peter's f
ace, as he read thepurely formal instrument, he would not have called it dull or heavy. ForPeter knew that he had won; that in place of justice blocking andhindering him, every barrier was crushed down; that this prosecutionrested with no officials, but was for him to push; that that littlepiece of parchment bound every court to support him; that if necessaryfifty thousand troops would enforce the power which granted it. Withinthree hours, the first formal steps to place the case in the courts hadbeen taken, and Peter was working at the evidence and law in the matter.
These steps produced a prompt call from Dummer, who showed considerablyless assurance than hitherto, even though he tried to take Peter'ssuccess jauntily. He wanted Peter to drop the whole thing, and hinted atlarge sums of money, but Peter at first did not notice his hints, andfinally told him that the case should be tried. Then Dummer pleaded fordelay. Peter was equally obdurate. Later they had a contest in the courtover this. But Peter argued in a quiet way, which nevertheless caughtthe attention of the judge, who ended the dispute by refusing topostpone. The judge hadn't intended to act in this way, and was rathersurprised at his own conduct. The defendant's lawyer was furious.
No stone was left unturned, however, to prevent the case going to trial.Pressure of the sharpest and closest kind was brought to bear on theGovernor himself--pressure which required backbone to resist. But hestood by his act: perhaps because he belonged to a different party thanthat in control of the city government; perhaps because of Peter'saccount, and the truthfulness in his face as he told it; perhaps becausethe Attorney-General had found it legal; perhaps because of his wife;perhaps it was a blending of all these. Certain it is, that all attemptsto block failed, and in the last week in August it came before thecourt.
Peter had kept his clients informed as to his struggles, and they weretremendously proud of the big battle and ultimate success, as indeedwere the residents of the whole district, who felt that it was reallytheir own case. Then the politicians were furious and excited over it,while the almost unexampled act of the Governor had created a good dealof public interest in the case. So the court was packed and the presshad reporters in attendance. Since the trial was fully reported, it isneedless to go over the testimony here. What Peter could bring out, isalready known. The defence, by "experts," endeavored to prove that thecowsheds were not in a really unhygienic condition; that feeding cows on"mash" did not affect their milk, nor did mere "skin sores;" that themilk had been sold by mistake, in ignorance that it was thirty-six hoursold, and skimmed; and that the proof of this particular milk being thecause of the deaths was extremely inadequate and doubtful. The onlydramatic incident in the testimony was the putting the two littleDooleys (who had returned in fat and rosy condition, the day before) onthe stand.
"Did you find country milk different from what you have here?" Peterasked the youngest.
"Oh, yes," she said. "Here it comes from a cart, but in the country itsquirts from a cow."
"Order," said the judge to the gallery.
"Does it taste differently?"
"Yes. It's sweet, as if they put sugar in it. It's lovely I like cowmilk better than cart milk."
"Damn those children!" said Dummer, to the man next him.
The event of the trial came, however, when Peter summed up. He spokequietly, in the simplest language, using few adjectives and noinvective. But as the girl at the Pierces' dinner had said, "hedescribes things so that one sees them." He told of the fever-strickencows, and he told of the little fever-stricken children in such a waythat the audience sobbed; his clients almost had to be ordered out ofcourt; the man next Dummer mopped his eyes with his handkerchief; thejudge and jury thoughtfully covered their eyes (so as to think thebetter); the reporters found difficulty (owing to the glary light), inwriting the words despite their determination not to miss one; and eventhe prisoner wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Peter was unconscious that hewas making a great speech; great in its simplicity, and great in itspathos. He afterwards said he had not given it a moment's thought andhad merely said what he felt. Perhaps his conclusion indicated why hewas able to speak with the feeling he did. For he said:
"This is not merely the case of the State _versus_ James Goldman. It isthe case of the tenement-house children, against the inhumanity of man'sgreed."
Dummer whispered to the man next him, "There's no good. He's done forus." Then he rose, and made a clever defence. He knew it was wasting histime. The judge charged against him, and the jury gave the full verdict:"Man-slaughter in the first degree." Except for the desire for it, thesentence created little stir. Every one was still feeling and thinkingof Peter's speech.
And to this day that speech is talked of in "the district."