"Gimme West 2063," she demanded of the operator, and a moment later: "Is this Lake Street?""Well say, Billy Byrne's back.I just see him.""Yes an' never mind who I am; but if youse guys want him he's walkin' west on Grand Avenoo right now.I just this minute seen him near Lincoln," and she smashed the receiver back into its hook.
Billy Byrne thought that he would look in on his mother, not that he expected to be welcomed even though she might happen to be sober, or not that he cared to see her; but Billy's whole manner of thought had altered within the year, and something now seemed to tell him that it was his duty to do the thing he contemplated.Maybe he might even be of help to her.
But when he reached the gloomy neighborhood in which his childhood had been spent it was to learn that his mother was dead and that another family occupied the tumble-down cottage that had been his home.
If Billy Byrne felt any sorrow because of his mother's death he did not reveal it outwardly.He owed her nothing but for kicks and cuffs received, and for the surroundings and influences that had started him upon a life of crime at an age when most boys are just entering grammar school.
Really the man was relieved that he had not had to see her, and it was with a lighter step that he turned back to retrace his way along Grand Avenue.No one of the few he had met who recognized him had seemed particularly delighted at his return.The whole affair had been something of a disappointment.
Therefore Billy determined to go at once to the Lake Street Station and learn the status of the Schneider murder case.Possibly they had discovered the real murderer, and if that was the case Billy would be permitted to go his way; but if not then he could give himself up and ask for a trial, that he might be exonerated.
As he neared Wood Street two men who had been watching his approach stepped into the doorway of a saloon, and as he passed they stepped out again behind him.One upon either side they seized him.
Billy turned to remonstrate.
"Come easy now, Byrne," admonished one of the men, "an' don't make no fuss.""Oh," said Billy, "it's you, is it? Well, I was just goin' over to the station to give myself up."Both men laughed, skeptically."We'll just save you the trouble," said one of them."We'll take you over.You might lose your way if you tried to go alone."Billy went along in silence the rest of the way to where the patrol waited at another corner.He saw there was nothing to be gained by talking to these detectives; but he found the lieutenant equally inclined to doubt his intentions.He, too, only laughed when Billy assured him that he was on his way to the station at the very instant of arrest.
As the weeks dragged along, and Billy Byrne found no friendly interest in himself or his desire to live on the square, and no belief in his protestations that he had had naught to do with the killing of Schneider he began to have his doubts as to the wisdom of his act.
He also commenced to entertain some of his former opinions of the police, and of the law of which they are supposed to be the guardians.A cell-mate told him that the papers had scored the department heavily for their failure to apprehend the murderer of the inoffensive old Schneider, and that public opinion had been so aroused that a general police shakeup had followed.
The result was that the police were keen to fasten the guilt upon someone--they did not care whom, so long as it was someone who was in their custody.
"You may not o' done it," ventured the cell-mate; "but they'll send you up for it, if they can't hang you.They're goin'
to try to get the death sentence.They hain't got no love for you, Byrne.You caused 'em a lot o' throuble in your day an'
they haven't forgot it.I'd hate to be in your boots."Billy Byrne shrugged.Where were his dreams of justice?
They seemed to have faded back into the old distrust and hatred.He shook himself and conjured in his mind the vision of a beautiful girl who had believed in him and trusted him--who had inculcated within him a love for all that was finest and best in true manhood, for the very things that he had most hated all the years of his life before she had come into his existence to alter it and him.
And then Billy would believe again--believe that in the end justice would triumph and that it would all come out right, just the way he had pictured it.
With the coming of the last day of the trial Billy found it more and more difficult to adhere to his regard for law, order, and justice.The prosecution had shown conclusively that Billy was a hard customer.The police had brought witnesses who did not hesitate to perjure themselves in their testimony--testimony which it seemed to Billy the densest of jurymen could plainly see had been framed up and learned by rote until it was letter-perfect.
These witnesses could recall with startling accuracy every detail that had occurred between seventeen minutes after eight and twenty-one minutes past nine on the night of September 23 over a year before; but where they had been and what they had done ten minutes earlier or ten minutes later, or where they were at nine o'clock in the evening last Friday they couldn't for the lives of them remember.
And Billy was practically without witnesses.
The result was a foregone conclusion.Even Billy had to admit it, and when the prosecuting attorney demanded the death penalty the prisoner had an uncanny sensation as of the tightening of a hempen rope about his neck.
