n the courtroom slowly dispersed. Mr. Tutt, escorted by Tutt,
went out in the corridor to smoke.

"Ye got a raw deal, counselor," remarked Captain Phelan, amiably
accepting a stogy. "Nothing but an act of Providence c'd save that
Eyetalian from the chair. An' him guilty at that!"

An hour passed; then another. At half after four a rumor flew along the
corridors that the jury in the Serafino case had reached a verdict and
were coming in. A messenger scurried to the judge's chambers. Phelan
descended the iron stairs to bring up the prisoner, while Tutt to
prevent a scene invented an excuse by which he lured Rosalina to the
first floor of the building. The crowd suddenly reassembled out of
nowhere and poured into the courtroom. The reporters gathered
expectantly round their table. The judge entered, his robes, gathered in
one hand.

"Bring in the jury," he said sharply. "Arraign the prisoner at the bar."

Mr. Tutt took his place beside his client at the railing, while the
jury, carrying their coats and hats, filed slowly in. Their faces were
set and relentless. They looked neither to the right nor to the left.
O'Brien sauntered over and seated himself nonchalantly with his back to
the court, studying their faces. Yes, he told himself, they were a
regular set of hangmen--he couldn't have picked a tougher bunch if he'd
had his choice of the whole panel.

The clerk called the roll, and Messrs. Walsh, Tompkins, _et al._, stated
that they were all present.

"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" inquired the
clerk.

"We have!" replied Mr. Walsh sternly.

"How say you? Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?"

Mr. Tutt gripped the balustrade in front of him with one hand and put
his other arm round Angelo. He felt that now in truth murder was being
done.

"We find the defendant not guilty," said Mr. Walsh defiantly.

There was a momentary silence of incredulity. Then Babson and O'Brien
shouted simultaneously: "What!"

"We find the defendant not guilty," repeated Mr. Walsh stubbornly.

"I demand that the jury be polled!" cried the crestfallen O'Brien, his
face crimson.

And then the twelve reiterated severally that that was their verdict and
that they hearkened unto it as it stood recorded and that they were
entirely satisfied with it.

"You are discharged!" said Babson in icy tones. "Strike the names of
these men from the list of jurors--as incompetent. Haven't you any other
charge o