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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Стр. 221/297
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Men
in
a
jury-room
,
like
those
scientifically
demonstrated
atoms
of
a
crystal
which
scientists
and
philosophers
love
to
speculate
upon
,
like
finally
to
arrange
themselves
into
an
orderly
and
artistic
whole
,
to
present
a
compact
,
intellectual
front
,
to
be
whatever
they
have
set
out
to
be
,
properly
and
rightly
--
a
compact
,
sensible
jury
.
One
sees
this
same
instinct
magnificently
displayed
in
every
other
phase
of
nature
--
in
the
drifting
of
sea-wood
to
the
Sargasso
Sea
,
in
the
geometric
interrelation
of
air-bubbles
on
the
surface
of
still
water
,
in
the
marvelous
unreasoned
architecture
of
so
many
insects
and
atomic
forms
which
make
up
the
substance
and
the
texture
of
this
world
.
It
would
seem
as
though
the
physical
substance
of
life
--
this
apparition
of
form
which
the
eye
detects
and
calls
real
were
shot
through
with
some
vast
subtlety
that
loves
order
,
that
is
order
.
The
atoms
of
our
so-called
being
,
in
spite
of
our
so-called
reason
--
the
dreams
of
a
mood
--
know
where
to
go
and
what
to
do
.
They
represent
an
order
,
a
wisdom
,
a
willing
that
is
not
of
us
.
They
build
orderly
in
spite
of
us
.
So
the
subconscious
spirit
of
a
jury
.
At
the
same
time
,
one
does
not
forget
the
strange
hypnotic
effect
of
one
personality
on
another
,
the
varying
effects
of
varying
types
on
each
other
,
until
a
solution
--
to
use
the
word
in
its
purely
chemical
sense
--
is
reached
.
In
a
jury-room
the
thought
or
determination
of
one
or
two
or
three
men
,
if
it
be
definite
enough
,
is
likely
to
pervade
the
whole
room
and
conquer
the
reason
or
the
opposition
of
the
majority
.
One
man
"
standing
out
"
for
the
definite
thought
that
is
in
him
is
apt
to
become
either
the
triumphant
leader
of
a
pliant
mass
or
the
brutally
battered
target
of
a
flaming
,
concentrated
intellectual
fire
.
Men
despise
dull
opposition
that
is
without
reason
.
In
a
jury-room
,
of
all
places
,
a
man
is
expected
to
give
a
reason
for
the
faith
that
is
in
him
--
if
one
is
demanded
.
It
will
not
do
to
say
,
"
I
can
not
agree
.
"
Jurors
have
been
known
to
fight
.
Bitter
antagonisms
lasting
for
years
have
been
generated
in
these
close
quarters
.
Recalcitrant
jurors
have
been
hounded
commercially
in
their
local
spheres
for
their
unreasoned
oppositions
or
conclusions
.
After
reaching
the
conclusion
that
Cowperwood
unquestionably
deserved
some
punishment
,
there
was
wrangling
as
to
whether
the
verdict
should
be
guilty
on
all
four
counts
,
as
charged
in
the
indictment
.
Since
they
did
not
understand
how
to
differentiate
between
the
various
charges
very
well
,
they
decided
it
should
be
on
all
four
,
and
a
recommendation
to
mercy
added
.
Afterward
this
last
was
eliminated
,
however
;
either
he
was
guilty
or
he
was
not
.
The
judge
could
see
as
well
as
they
could
all
the
extenuating
circumstances
--
perhaps
better
.
Why
tie
his
hands
?
As
a
rule
no
attention
was
paid
to
such
recommendations
,
anyhow
,
and
it
only
made
the
jury
look
wabbly
.
So
,
finally
,
at
ten
minutes
after
twelve
that
night
,
they
were
ready
to
return
a
verdict
;
and
Judge
Payderson
,
who
,
because
of
his
interest
in
the
case
and
the
fact
that
he
lived
not
so
far
away
,
had
decided
to
wait
up
this
long
,
was
recalled
.
Steger
and
Cowperwood
were
sent
for
.
The
court-room
was
fully
lighted
.
The
bailiff
,
the
clerk
,
and
the
stenographer
were
there
.
The
jury
filed
in
,
and
Cowperwood
,
with
Steger
at
his
right
,
took
his
position
at
the
gate
which
gave
into
the
railed
space
where
prisoners
always
stand
to
hear
the
verdict
and
listen
to
any
commentary
of
the
judge
.
He
was
accompanied
by
his
father
,
who
was
very
nervous
.
For
the
first
time
in
his
life
he
felt
as
though
he
were
walking
in
his
sleep
.
Was
this
the
real
Frank
Cowperwood
of
two
months
before
--
so
wealthy
,
so
progressive
,
so
sure
?
Was
this
only
December
5th
or
6th
now
(
it
was
after
midnight
)
?
Why
was
it
the
jury
had
deliberated
so
long
?
What
did
it
mean
?
Here
they
were
now
,
standing
and
gazing
solemnly
before
them
;
and
here
now
was
Judge
Payderson
,
mounting
the
steps
of
his
rostrum
,
his
frizzled
hair
standing
out
in
a
strange
,
attractive
way
,
his
familiar
bailiff
rapping
for
order
.
He
did
not
look
at
Cowperwood
--
it
would
not
be
courteous
--
but
at
the
jury
,
who
gazed
at
him
in
return
.
At
the
words
of
the
clerk
,
"
Gentlemen
of
the
jury
,
have
you
agreed
upon
a
verdict
?
"
the
foreman
spoke
up
,
"
We
have
.
"
"
Do
you
find
the
defendant
guilty
or
not
guilty
?
"
"
We
find
the
defendant
guilty
as
charged
in
the
indictment
.
"
How
had
they
come
to
do
this
?
Because
he
had
taken
a
check
for
sixty
thousand
dollars
which
did
not
belong
to
him
?
But
in
reality
it
did
.
Good
Lord
,
what
was
sixty
thousand
dollars
in
the
sum
total
of
all
the
money
that
had
passed
back
and
forth
between
him
and
George
W.
Stener
?
Nothing
,
nothing
!
A
mere
bagatelle
in
its
way
;
and
yet
here
it
had
risen
up
,
this
miserable
,
insignificant
check
,
and
become
a
mountain
of
opposition
,
a
stone
wall
,
a
prison-wall
barring
his
further
progress
.
It
was
astonishing
.
He
looked
around
him
at
the
court-room
.
How
large
and
bare
and
cold
it
was
!
Still
he
was
Frank
A.
Cowperwood
.
Why
should
he
let
such
queer
thoughts
disturb
him
?
His
fight
for
freedom
and
privilege
and
restitution
was
not
over
yet
.
Good
heavens
!
It
had
only
begun
.
In
five
days
he
would
be
out
again
on
bail
.
Steger
would
take
an
appeal
.
He
would
be
out
,
and
he
would
have
two
long
months
in
which
to
make
an
additional
fight
.
He
was
not
down
yet
.
He
would
win
his
liberty
.
This
jury
was
all
wrong
.
A
higher
court
would
say
so
.
It
would
reverse
their
verdict
,
and
he
knew
it
.
He
turned
to
Steger
,
where
the
latter
was
having
the
clerk
poll
the
jury
,
in
the
hope
that
some
one
juror
had
been
over-persuaded
,
made
to
vote
against
his
will
.
"
Is
that
your
verdict
?
"
he
heard
the
clerk
ask
of
Philip
Moultrie
,
juror
No.
1
.
"
It
is
,
"
replied
that
worthy
,
solemnly
.
