one for the defense; it hears only the evidence of the State."
"Your evidence, you mean, and not mine?"
"Come out," said Calvin again; and Hoberg loomed behind her; Hoberg's big red hand closed over the small, white one which reached toward Calvin in her appeal.
Calvin moved toward the doors and the whole group moved as Ketlar was led along by his guards. Calvin hardly had looked at the prisoner's face, but, in the hall, he turned and witnessed the proceeding which, in accordance with the order of the court, transferred the prisoner from the care of the police to the custody of guards from the jail.
A tall deputy, with a manacle locked about his wrist, raised his arm and offered the open half of the manacle to the prisoner and Ket stood and stared at it and swung his eyes away and sought Calvin's eyes; and Calvin steadily met the weak, frightened appeal. Ketlar wiped his brow with his hand and started to lower his arm and then impulsively thrust it into the manacle. The lock clicked and the prisoner and his guard dropped arms, handcuffed together.
"Oh!" cried out the Royle girl and Calvin started.
Beside the elevator, which waited to bring the prisoner and his guards to the street, stood the erect figure of the bleached-haired woman watching her son, her eyes never leaving him, her lips tight-pressed, without outcry or quiver.
Calvin stepped to the stairs and descended to his office; but there he opened his window and leaned out to see the procession passing below on the way to the jail.
Ketlar, manacled to the guard, formed the nucleus of a swirl of people which seemed sucked, as by some external power, toward the corner of the Criminal Courts
