"
An adept and imaginative writer for an afternoon paper spoke of Brown
as a Jekyll and Hyde of the Tenderloin and hinted at other murders by
the same hand. From the comparatively quiet life of a not markedly
industrious yeggman Brown came out of the upper floor of a State
Street lodging house to stand stoically before the world of men--a
storm centre about which swirled and eddied the wrath of an aroused
city.
The thought that had flashed into the mind of Henry Hunt as he sat in
the office of the soft-voiced boss was the making of an opportunity
for McGregor. For months he and Andrew Brown had been friends. The
yeggman, a strongly built slow talking man, looked like a skilled
mechanic of a locomotive engineer. Coming into O'Toole's in the quiet
hours between eight and twelve he sat eating his evening meal and
talking in a half bantering humorous vein to the young lawyer. In his
eyes lurked a kind of hard cruelty tempered by indolence. It was he
who gave McGregor the name that still clings to him in that strange
savage land--"Judge Mac, the Big 'un."
When he was arrested Brown sent for McGregor and offered to give him
charge of his case. When the young lawyer refused he was insistent. In
a cell at the county jail they talked it over. By the door stood a
guard watching them.
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