ch has gone before, does not my nose tell me?" He flung his
head back, and with tense face, eyes closed, nostrils quivering and
dilated, he simulated the quiescence of all the senses save one and the
concentration of his whole being upon that one. Then his eyes
fluttered partly open and he regarded her dreamily. "I smell the blood
on his hands, the warm blood, the hot blood on his hands."

"And by gad he can do it!" some man exclaimed.

And so convinced was Frona that she glanced involuntarily at St.
Vincent's hands, and saw there the rusty-brown stains on the cuffs of
his flannel shirt.

As La Flitche left the stand, Bill Brown came over to her and shook
hands. "No more than proper I should know the lawyer for the defence,"
he said, good-naturedly, running over his notes for the next witness.

"But don't you think it is rather unfair to me?" she asked, brightly.
"I have not had time to prepare my case. I know nothing about it
except what I have gleaned from your two witnesses. Don't you think,
Mr. Brown," her voice rippling along in persuasive little notes, "don't
you think it would be advisable to adjourn the meeting until to-morrow?"

"Hum," he deliberated, looking at his watch.

"Wouldn't be a bad idea. It's five o'clock, anyway, and the men ought
to be cooking their suppers."

She thanked him, as some women can, without speech; yet, as he looked
down into her face and eyes, he experienced a subtler and greater
satisfaction than if she had spoken.

He stepped to his old position and addressed the room. "On
consultation of the defence and the prosecution, and upon consideration
of the lateness of the hour and the impossibility of finishing the
trial within a reasonable limit, I--hum--I take the liberty of moving
an adjournment until eight o'clock to-morrow morning."

"The ayes have it," the chairman proclaimed, coming down from his place
and proceeding to build the fire, for he was a part-owner of the cabin
and cook for his crowd.

CHAPTER XXVII

Frona turned to St. Vincent as the last of the crowd filed out. He
clutched her hands spasmodically, like a drowning man.

"Do believe me, Frona. Promise me."

Her face flushed. "You are excited," she said, "or you would not say
such things. Not that I blame you," she relented. "I hardly imagine
the situation can be anything else but exciting."

"Yes, and well I know it," he answered, bitterly. "I am acting like a
fool, and I can't help i