t apologetically, "Miss McLaren, will you kindly try on these
shoes?" the women in the room rose from their seats in access of
interest, and loud cries of "Down in front!" arose from those behind
them.

Seemingly without embarrassment, yet with heightened color, Helen
removed one of her shoes--a plain low walking-shoe--and handed it to
Carmody, who received it with respectful care and handed it to the
foreman of the jury, asking him to make comparison of it with the
footprints.

The jurors, two by two, examined, measured, muttered, while the audience
waited in growing impatience for their report. Most of the onlookers
believed this to be a much more important test than it really was, and
when at last the foreman returned the shoe, saying, "This ain't the
shoe that made the tracks," the courtroom buzzed with pleased comment.

Raines was on his feet. "Mr. Coroner, we demand that the witness try on
that other pair of shoes. We are not convinced that she cannot wear
them."

Carmody yielded, and the room became very quiet as Helen, with
noticeable effort, wedged her foot into the shoe.

"I cannot put it on; it is too small," she said to Carmody, and Rita,
who sat near, bent a terrified gaze upon her.

Raines then called out: "She's playing off. Have her stand up."

Hanscom, furious at this indignity, protested that it was not necessary,
but Helen rose and, drawing aside the hem of her skirt, calmly offered
her foot for inspection.

"I can't possibly walk in it," she said, addressing the jury.

One by one the jury clumsily knelt and examined her foot, then returned
to their seats, and when the foreman said, "That never was her shoe," a
part of the audience applauded his utterance as conclusive.

"That will do, Miss McLaren," said Carmody; "you may step down." And,
turning sharply to where Rita sat with open mouth and dazed glance, he
demanded: "Do you know what the court calls your testimony? It's
perjury! That's what it is! Do you know what we can do to you? We can
shut you up in jail. These shoes are yours. Are you ready to say so
now?"

She shrank from him, and her eyes fell.

Raines intervened. "You are intimidating the witness," he protested.

Carmody repeated his question, "_Are these your shoes?_"

"Yes, sir," she faintly answered; a sigh of relief, a ripple of
applause, again interrupted the coroner.

Hanscom rose. "Mr. Coroner, in view of this testimony, I move Miss
McLaren be excused from further