id, looking back at the jury.
She then told some useless particulars, and brought her narrative to the
afternoon when she had heard the galloping. "Then I hid. I hid because
this is a rough country."

"When did you recognize that young man's voice?"

"I did not recognize it."

Black curly's feet scraped as he shifted his position.

"Collect yourself, Mrs. Sproud. We'll give you all the time you want. We
know ladies are not used to talking in court. Did you not hear this
young man talking to his friends?"

"I heard talking," replied the witness, quite collected. "But I could
not make out who they were. If I could have been sure it was him and
friends, I wouldn't have stayed hid. I'd have had no call to be scared."

Rocklin was dazed, and his next question came in a voice still more
changed and irritable.

"Did you see any one?"

"No one."

"What did you hear them say?"

"They were all talking at once. I couldn't be sure."

"Why did you go to the hay-stack?"

"Because they said something about my hay-stack, and I wanted to find
out, if I could."

"Did you not write their names on a paper and give it to this gentleman?
Remember you are on oath, Mrs. Sproud."

By this time a smile was playing on the features of Jenks, and he and
Bishop Meakum talked no longer together, but sat back to watch the
woman's extraordinary attempt to undo her work. It was shrewd, very
shrewd, in her to volunteer as our witness instead of as theirs. She was
ready for the paper question, evidently.

"I wrote--" she began, but Rocklin interrupted.

"On oath, remember!" he repeated, finding himself cross-examining his
own witness. "The names you wrote are the names of these prisoners here
before the court. They were traced as the direct result of your
information. They have been identified by three or four persons. Do you
mean to say you did not know who they were?"

"I did not know," said Mrs. Sproud, firmly. "As for the paper, I acted
hasty. I was a woman, alone, and none to consult or advise me. I thought
I would get in trouble if I did not tell about such goings on, and I
just wrote the names of Will--of the boys that came round there all the
time, thinking it was most likely them. I didn't see him, and I didn't
make out surely it was his voice. I wasn't sure enough to come out and
ask what they were up to. I didn't stop to think of the harm I was doing
on guess-work."

For the first time the note of remorse conquered in he