character he well knew, to perform their full duty no matter how
disagreeable that duty might be. The sheep nodded.

"You may retire, gentlemen."

Babson looked down at Mr. Tutt with a significant gleam in his eye. He
had driven in the knife to the hilt and twisted it round and round.
Angelo had almost as much chance as the proverbial celluloid cat. Mr.
Tutt felt actually sick. He did not look at the jury as they went out.
They would not be long--and he could hardly face the thought of their
return. Never in his long experience had he found himself in such a
desperate situation. Heretofore there had always been some argument,
some construction of the facts upon which he could make an appeal,
however fallacious or illogical.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. The judge was chatting with O'Brien,
the court officers were betting with the reporters as to the length of
time in which it would take the twelve to agree upon a verdict of murder
in the first. The funeral rites were all concluded except for the final
commitment of the corpse to mother earth.

And then without warning Angelo suddenly rose and addressed the court in
a defiant shriek.

"I killa that man!" he cried wildly. "He maka small of my wife! He no
good! He bad egg! I killa him once--I killa him again!"

"So!" exclaimed Babson with biting sarcasm. "You want to make a
confession? You hope for mercy, do you? Well, Mr. Tutt, what do you wish
to do under the circumstances? Shall I recall the jury and reopen the
case by consent?"

Mr. Tutt rose trembling to his feet.

"The case is closed, Your Honor," he replied. "I will consent to a
mistrial and offer a plea of guilty of manslaughter. I cannot agree to
reopen the case. I cannot let the defendant go upon the stand."

The spectators and reporters were pressing forward to the bar, anxious
lest they should lose a single word of the colloquy. Angelo remained
standing, looking eagerly at O'Brien, who returned his gaze with a grin
like that of a hyena.

"I killa him!" Angelo repeated. "You killa me if you want."

"Sit down!" thundered the judge. "Enough of this! The law does not
permit me to accept a plea to murder in the first degree, and my
conscience and my sense of duty to the public will permit me to accept
no other. I will go to my chambers to await the verdict of the jury.
Take the prisoner downstairs to the prison pen."

He swept from the bench in his silken robes. Angelo was led away. The
crowd i