“Bein’ under the influence of dope, an’ creatin’ a disturbance in Catfish Row, yer Honor,” replied the policeman who stood by the prisoner.
“No, suh,” came the reply in a low, clear tone.
“The officer of the day thinks she has, yer Honor,” put in the policeman, “but he can’t swear to it. She looks like a hundred others, he says, scar and all; an’ they change names so fast you get nothing from the records.”
The judge regarded the prisoner with amiability. The thermometer on the wall beside him registered ninety. It was asking too much of good-nature to require it to subvert itself in such heat.
“I suppose we will have to give you the benefit of the doubt,” he said. Then he turned to the officer.
“After all, it’s the man who sold her the poison we want. I was kept here three hours yesterday by dope cases. I want it put a stop to.”
He contracted his brows in a weak attempt at sternness, and directed a steady gaze at Bess.
“I don’t t’ink I know um again,” she said in a low, even tone. “I buy from um in de dark, las’ night, an’ he gone off right away.”
“It’s no use, Your Honor,” put in the policeman. “They won’t give each other away.”
The judge fixed the culprit with a long scrutiny. Then he asked:
“No, suh. Yuh’ll jus’ hab tuh gib’ me my time.”
“I beg your pardon, Your Honor,” he said, “but there is a cripple outside in a goat-cart who says he is prepared to pay the woman’s fine.”
“Eh; what’s that?” exclaimed the judge. “Is it that black scoundrel, Porgy, the beggar?”
“That’s him, Yer Honor,” replied the man, with a grin.
“Why, the highwayman takes a dime from me every time I venture on King Charles Street. And here he has the audacity to come and offer to pay a fine.”
The prisoner said the words steadily, then caught her lower lip with her strong, white teeth.
“Address the Court as ‘Your Honor,’ not ‘Boss,’” ordered the judge.
For a long moment the Recorder sat, his brow contracted. Then he drew a large, cool, linen handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his face.
“Go out and take ten dollars from the beggar,” he told the policeman. “It’s a small fine for the offence.” Then turning to the woman, he said:
“I am going to lock you up for ten days; but any time you give the name of that dope peddler to the jailor you can leave. Do you understand?”