was very weak.
'Give me your gun,' he said; 'quick, give me it.' He felt around
blindly. Then his mind seemed to clear a bit, and he reached across me
to the holster hanging on the wall and took the pistol. The Indian
came at him with the knife again, but he did not try to defend himself.
Instead, he went on towards Bella, with the Indian still hanging to him
and hacking at him. The Indian seemed to bother and irritate him, and
he shoved him away. He knelt down and turned Bella's face up to the
light; but his own face was covered with blood and he could not see.
So he stopped long enough to brush the blood from his eyes. He
appeared to look in order to make sure. Then he put the revolver to
her breast and fired.

"The Indian went wild at this, and rushed at him with the knife, at the
same time knocking the pistol out of his hand. It was then the shelf
with the slush-lamp was knocked down. They continued to fight in the
darkness, and there were more shots fired, though I do not know by
whom. I crawled out of the bunk, but they struck against me in their
struggles, and I fell over Bella. That's when the blood got on my
hands. As I ran out the door, more shots were fired. Then I met La
Flitche and John, and . . . and you know the rest. This is the truth I
have told you, I swear it!"

He looked down at Frona. She was steadying the box, and her face was
composed. He looked out over the crowd and saw unbelief. Many were
laughing.

"Why did you not tell this story at first?" Bill Brown demanded.

"Because . . . because . . ."

"Well?"

"Because I might have helped."

There was more laughter at this, and Bill Brown turned away from him.
"Gentlemen, you have heard this pipe dream. It is a wilder fairy story
than his first. At the beginning of the trial we promised to show that
the truth was not in him. That we succeeded, your verdict is ample
testimony. But that he should likewise succeed, and more brilliantly,
we did not expect. That he has, you cannot doubt. What do you think
of him? Lie upon lie he has given us; he has been proven a chronic
liar; are you to believe this last and fearfully impossible lie?
Gentlemen, I can only ask that you reaffirm your judgment. And to
those who may doubt his mendacity,--surely there are but few,--let me
state, that if his story is true; if he broke salt with this man, John
Borg, and lay in his blankets while murder was done; if he did hear,
unmoved, the vo