Harvey J. O'Higgins

“ Wickson began to pace up and down the room again. "Besides," he asked, with an air of relieving his mind of something that had long been burdening it, "what's the use of prosecuting this man Sotjie? He's not to blame. The town has to have a crooked chief of police, and they'll always get some one who'll do what Sotjie did. And if we could reach old Bradford and the 'higher-ups' what would be the use of prosecuting them? As long as these public utilities are lying around loose, waiting for some one to steal them, they'll be stolen. It's a whole community that's been to blame. ”

“ Harris said, pontifically. "It is so."
Wickson ran his hand through his hair—a rough shock of hair that had grown sparse in a dry tangle. He sat down again at his desk. "Well," he said, "they don't think I can be re-elected, eh? They tell you 'the boys' won't vote for me—the rank and file. I've made too many enemies. Some of our own friends don't like my remarks about the connection between street-railway franchises and protected vice. Bill Toole—and it comes, I suppose, from old Bradford himself—Bill Toole offers to compromise on a good ticket if I'm dropped." ”

“ He probably feels himself as much the victim of conditions as I do. He'll tell you that the thieves run the town—that he has to operate the street railway—and that he couldn't operate it unless he stood in with them. See? He'll tell you that the fault is with the citizens who won't be bothered with politics—who leave the thieves to take that trouble. But you'll notice that when I try to rouse those citizens to make them take an interest, I get notice from Bradford, through Bill Toole to McPhee Harris, that I can't be renominated. ”

“ Wickson leaned forward on his table-desk intently.
"We have put the fear of God into them," Harris assured him. "They are prepared to nominate a ticket of good men."
Wickson waited, watching him, silent. (Harris remembers that silence well—as a justification.)
"We are to name them," he went on, "practically all. They reserve a few of the minor offices—as, for instance, the sheriff and the county clerk and recorder."
"If they nominate those three officers," Wickson said, in his high, unpleasant voice, "they'll have control of the local machinery of elections." ”

“ He came toward Arnett also, and the sculptor half rose from his seat before he realized that Wickson was not aware of him. There was a look of solemn friendliness and sympathy in the District Attorney's face as he went by—a look that ignored Arnett and yet moved him to turn and watch.
Wickson put his hand on Cooney's shoulder. "I'm glad to see you out again, Cooney," he said. "I've been mighty sorry for what happened. I had to do it. We all have to do things sometimes that we don't want to do. ”

“ They have a man out to shoot me."
Arnett took his pipe from his teeth as if to put aside his jocular air with it. "What's up? Do you mean it?"
Wickson nodded, smiling.
"Who's doing it?"
"Well—Sotjie, first of all. And then—the men who have helped to make Sotjie what he is, including Bradford. And then—all of us who have allowed conditions to become what they are in this town. You, for instance. You never vote, do you?"
"Murder? You mean murder?"
"No. The man 'll be drunk. It's a fellow I sent up three years ago, and he has that grievance. It 'll only be manslaughter." ”

“ He turned the knob. "There are a good many things in this business that a man knows and can't prove."
With the opening of the door the activities of the outer office interrupted them and silenced Arnett. He followed or waited for Wickson as the District Attorney excused himself to a visitor, gave instructions to an assistant, bent to hear a hurried report in confidence, or stopped to "jolly" a newspaper man. When they reached the elevator Collins's young detective, Plummer, was with them. ”

“ He kept his sources of information secret from Wickson, even.
"When you challenged that juror yesterday," Collins said, "you noticed how pale Sotjie got? Well, he didn't turn pale because he lost the man. He turned pale because Cooney had come in behind you. He was afraid that Cooney was going to shoot. That's what gave me the tip—the way Sotjie's hands shook. I've given orders to our boys to keep Cooney outside the rail after this. ”

“ That is to say, he told Wickson that at Police Headquarters they were arranging to have the District Attorney murdered by an ex-policeman named Cooney whom Wickson had prosecuted and sent to prison.
Wickson raised one eyebrow at him, smiling wryly. "Tim," he said, "McPhee Harris has slumped on me."
Collins repeated: "They're going to try to bump you off. They've got Cooney worked up to it. They're keeping him just drunk enough to do it. He's going to shoot you. That's what he's hanging around the court-house for." ”

“ On that efficiency Harris came more and more to rely. Wickson shared in Harris's prosecutions of the venders of "picture post-cards," the proprietors of "nickelodeons," and the managers of "variety shows" who offended against the League's standards of public purity. Arnett, having an artist's views of nudity, often quarreled with Wickson about these prosecutions.
"He wasn't morbid, as McPhee Harris was," Arnett says. "He did it to protect young people from contamination. ”

“ Moreover, it was probably his early revolt against paternal injustice that inspired him with the ambition to be a lawyer so that he might be able to defend himself and others against wrongs, and help to administer justice equitably. ”