ou the form of my dead friend went with me
always--sleeping, he lay beside me; waking, he lay at my feet. When I
looked into the shadows, he was there, and when I worked in the mine
and swung my pick against the walls of rock, it seemed that I still
struck at my friend.

"Well may my father refuse to own me as his son--me--a murderer--but
one thing can I yet do to expiate my deed,--I can free my cousin's
name from all blame, and if I were to hang for my deed, gladly would I
walk over coals to the gallows, rather than that such a crime should
be laid at his door as that he tried to return here and creep into my
place after throwing me over the bluff into those terrible waters.

"Do with me what you will, Gentlemen of the Jury, but free his name. I
understand that my cousin's body was never found lying there as I had
left it when I fled in cowardice--when I tried to make all the world
think me also dead, and left him lying there--when I pushed the great
stone out of its place down where I had so nearly gone, and left my
hat lying as it had fallen and threw the articles from my pocket over
after the stone I had sent crashing down into the river. Since the
testimony here given proves that I was mistaken in my belief that I
had killed him, may God be thanked, I am free from the guilt of that
deed. Until he returns or until he is found and is known to be living,
do with me what you will. I came to you to surrender myself and make
this confession before you, and as I stand here in your presence and
before my Maker, I declare to you that what I have said is the
truth."

As he ceased speaking he looked steadily at the Elder's averted face,
then sat down, regarding no one else. He felt he had failed, and he
sat with head bowed in shame and sorrow. A low murmur rose and swept
through the court room like a sound of wind before a storm, and the
old Elder leaned toward his lawyer and spoke in low tones, lifting a
shaking finger, then dropped his hand and shifted slightly in his
chair.

As he did so Milton Hibbard arose and began his cross-examination.

The simplicity of Peter Junior's story, and the ingenuous manner in
which it had been told, called for a different cross-examination from
that which would have been adopted if this same counsel had been
called upon to cross-examine the Swede. He made no effort to entangle
the witness, but he led him instead to repeat that part of his
testimony in which he had told of the motive w