On a strip of linen had been hastily inscribed the
following announcement, stretched across the street:
"THE GREAT AND GOOD IS DEAD. WHO WILL NOT MOURN?"
CHAPTER XLVI
RETRIBUTION
Cora's trial was in progress. In the upper front room of Vigilante
headquarters sat the tribunal upon whose decision Cora's fate would
rest. They were grouped about a long table, twenty-nine men, the
executive committee. At their head sat William Coleman, grim and stern,
despite his clear complexion and his youthful, beardless mien. Near him,
Isaac Bluxome, keen-eyed, shrewd, efficient, made notes of the
proceedings.
Cora, affecting an air of nonchalance, and, as ever, immaculate in
dress, sat between his counsel, Miers F. Truett and Thomas J.L. Smiley,
while John P. Manrow acted as the prosecutor.
The gambler's eyes were fixed upon the trio when he was not searching
the faces of those other silent men about the board. They were dressed
in black. There was about them an air of impassivity almost removed from
human emotion, and Cora could not but contrast them with the noisy,
chewing, spitting, red-shirted jury at his previous trial, where Belle
Cora's thousands had proved efficacious in securing disagreement.
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