when the others laughed nor having need even once to wipe his eyes.
At a quarter to twelve Max soared into his peroration, and at noon exactly, and dramatically, he stopped. Time, which he had controlled, worked for him; he had maneuvered the State into difficulty; for Calvin either must speak but briefly or must ask for a session upon this Saturday afternoon, or else he must detain the jury over until Monday merely to hear his plea.
He made the choice quickly, for him. "Your honor, if the court will remain, I will finish before one o'clock," he promised; and immediately he began speaking to Andreapolos and the juror at the Greek's side, presenting in logical order the facts of the crime, the evidence against the accused, the fact that the defense rested upon an alibi which in turn rested upon the character of two persons. First, Calvin reviewed the character of the father; then he gave in plain, solemn words his stigmatization of the character of the girl.
At one o'clock it was over; the judge charged the jury who filed out to their deliberations, whereupon Calvin descended to his office. There would be no verdict upon the first ballot or at any early hour, he felt sure; for he counted Andreapolos, the foreman, and one other juror, at least, as sure to vote for conviction; and he could not imagine the weaker, wishy-washy-minded men winning over Andreapolos. Far more likely, the Greek would wear them around at last to his point of view; Andreapolos would outstay them.
Calvin went to lunch, leaving word so that he could be called if the jury reported: later he sought his rooms, whence he telephoned to the Criminal Court building at seven o'clock and learned that the jury was still "out."
He dined solitarily at his rooms, with his mind roving
