justice when I
took the Kauffmans to the station, because I heard the coroner say he
had excused them."

"What about those raiders?" asked one of the jurors. "Did you recognize
the man who shot Kauffman's horse?"

Carmody interrupted: "We can't go into that. That has no connection with
the question which we are to settle, which is, Who killed Watson?"

"Seems to me there is a connection," remarked Rawlins. "If those raiders
were the same people Hanscom arrested in the cabin, wouldn't it prove
something as to their character?"

"Sure thing!" answered another of the jurors.

"A man who would shoot a horse like that might shoot a man, 'pears to
me," said a third.

"All right," said Carmody. "Mr. Hanscom, you may answer. Did you
recognize the man who fired that shot?"

"No, he was too far away; but the horse he rode was a sorrel--the same
animal which the Cuneo girl rode."

Raines interrupted: "Will you _swear_ to that?"

"No, I won't swear to it, but I think--"

Raines was savage. "Mr. Coroner, we don't want what the witness
_thinks_--we want what he _knows_."

"Tell us what you know," commanded Carmody.

"I know this," retorted Hanscom. "The man who fired that shot rode a
sorrel blaze-faced pony and was a crack gunman. To drop a running horse
at that distance is pretty tolerable shooting, and it ought to be easy
to prove who the gunner was. I've heard say Henry Kitsong--"

"I object!" shouted Raines, and Carmody sustained the objection.

"Passing now to your capture of the housebreakers," said he, "tell the
jury how you came to arrest the girl."

"Well, as I entered the cabin the girl Rita was sitting with her feet on
a stool, and the size and shape of her shoe soles appeared to me about
the size and shape of the tracks made in the flour, and I had just
started to take one of her shoes in order to compare it with the
drawings I carried in my pocket-book when Busby jumped me. I had to wear
him out before I could go on; but finally I made the comparison and
found that the soles of her shoes fitted the tracks exactly. Then I
decided to bring her down, too."

A stir of excited interest passed over the hall, but Raines checked it
by asking: "Did you compare the shoes with the actual tracks on the
porch floor?"

"No, only with the drawings I had made in my note-book."

Raines waved his hand contemptuously. "That proves nothing. We don't
know anything about those drawings."

"I do," retorted Carmody, "an