e and thorns of Isom Chase's fields and pastures. His
trousers were tucked into their wrinkled tops, which sagged half-way
down his long calves.

Taken in the figure alone, he was uncouth and oversized in his common
and scant gear. But the lofty nobility of his severe young face and the
high-lifting forehead, proclaimed to all who were competent in such
matters that it was only his body that was meanly clad.

Hammer began by asking the usual questions regarding nativity and age,
and led on with the history of Joe's apprenticeship to Chase, the terms
of it, its duration, compensation; of his treatment at his master's
hands, their relations of friendliness, and all that. There was a little
tremor and unsteadiness in Joe's voice at first, as of fright, but this
soon cleared away, and he answered in steady tones.

The jurors had straightened up out of their wearied apathy, and were
listening now with all ears. Joe did not appear to comprehend their
importance in deciding his fate, people thought, seeing that he turned
from them persistently and addressed the judge.

Joe had taken the stand against Hammer's advice and expectation, for he
had hoped in the end to be able to make his client see the danger of
such a step unless he should go forward in the intention of revealing
everything. Now the voluble lawyer was winded. He proceeded with extreme
caution in his questioning, like one walking over mined ground, fearing
that he might himself lead his client into some fateful admission.

They at length came down to the morning that Isom went away to the
county-seat to serve on the jury, and all had progressed handsomely. Now
Joe told how Isom had patted him on the shoulder that morning, for it
had been the aim of Hammer all along to show that master and man were on
the most friendly terms, and how Isom had expressed confidence in him.
He recounted how, in discharge of the trust that Isom had put in him, he
had come downstairs on the night of the tragedy to look around the
premises, following in all particulars his testimony on this point
before the coroner's jury.

Since beginning his story, Joe had not looked at Ollie. His attention
had been divided between Hammer and the judge, turning from one to the
other. He addressed the jury only when admonished by Hammer to do so,
and then he frequently prefaced his reply to Hammer's question with:

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," as if he feared he might have hurt their
feelings b