ion was held in the court house at Nyalong,
and there was a large gathering of spectators when the proceedings
commenced. On a form below the witness box there was something
covered with a white sheet. Men craned their necks and looked at it
over one another's shoulders. The two prisoners eyed it intently.
It was guarded by constable Kerry, who allowed no one to approach it,
but with an authoritative wave of the hand kept back all impertinent
intruders. That day was the proudest in all his professional career.
He had prepared his evidence and his exhibits with the utmost care.
At the proper moment he carefully removed the white sheet, and the
skeleton was exposed to view, with everything replaced in the
position in which it had been found under the rocks in the Rises.
Nosey's face grew livid as he eyed the evidence of his handiwork;
Julia threw up both hands, and exclaimed:

"Oh! there's poor Baldy that you murdered!"

Nosey felt that this uncalled-for statement would damage his chance
of escape, so, turning to the bench, he said:

"Don't mind what the woman says, your lordship; she is not in her
right senses, and always was weak-minded."

The constable being sworn, related how, on information received, he
had gone to the Stoney Rises, and had uncovered a skeleton which was
lying on a broad flat stone. The bones of the legs from the knees
downward were covered with stones. The boots were attached to the
feet, and were pointing in such a direction as to show that the body
must have rested on the right side. Large stones, but such as one
man could lift, had been placed over the feet and the legs. The
other bones were together, but had been disturbed. With them he
found the brim of an oiled sou'-westr' hat, a clay tobacco pipe, a
rusty clasp-knife with a hole bored through the handle, fragments of
a blue shirt; also pieces of a striped silk neckerchief, marked D. S.
over 3; the marks had been sewn in with a needle. There was a hole
in the back of the skull, and the left jaw was broken.

Just at this time a funeral procession, with a few attendants, passed
the court-house on its way to the cemetery. Julia's father was going
to his grave. He had come over the sea lately to spend the rest of
his days in peace and comfort in the home of his daughter, and he
found her in gaol under the charge of murder. There was nothing more
to live for, so he went out and died.

The two prisoners were committed, but they r