ld beads in the hand, and strung them together; and
I saw a long chain of evidence winding around Johnny Montgomery. As he
went on measuring it out, for the first time I understood how heavily
my testimony counted. It seemed to do away with the whole defense. In
spite of Mr. Dingley the case seemed to be proving itself, and as he
went on he warmed to the very sound of his own argument; his voice
began to ring out more and I lost sight and memory of everything that
Mr. Jackson had said.

All heads were craning toward him as he stood with his back to all of
us, talking at the men in the jury-box as if they were the only people
in the world. The Spanish Woman was leaning forward, her elbow on her
knee, her head drooped, her hand hiding the lower part of her face, but
looking out from under her eyebrows like a picture I had once seen of a
prophetess. I felt that we were being wound up every moment more and
more tense, and when Mr. Dingley stopped, he left us at the highest
pitch possible for human beings to bear. When he sat down again he
gave a quick glance behind and around him and, as for a moment it
lingered on the Spanish Woman, I thought it seemed a little defiant.

I hardly realized what was happening in the room around me. The judge
was reading something endless to the jury, not one word of which my
ears could take. Then that sound ceased, and presently I noticed that
the jurymen were leaving the room.

With the closing of the door upon them the aspect of things behind the
railings changed, the judge getting up, walking restlessly back and
forth in front of his platform for a minute, then going back to his
writing; the clerk of the court keeping on with his, and most of the
lawyers going out. Mr. Dingley passed us with just a bend of the head,
and father glanced after him and made a little sound in his throat, a
sort of meditative "h'm" of surprise. But the crowd kept very quiet;
as the minutes passed the room grew more and more still. A sense of
nervousness was over all. Every time a door opened there was a rumor
that the jury was coming back.

"Well, it may be five minutes, and it may be all night," I heard Mr.
Ferguson saying to father. "That pistol disappearing is going to give
him a chance." Father answered, "That was a guilty man's defense, just
the same."

But I seemed to have forgotten there were such things as guilt or
innocence. I kept watching Johnny Montgomery, who was sitting almost