that had been fired
into blazing against him, and there--he felt a surge of emotion under
which his face burned--was Dorothy herself!

They had not brought her to the jail to see him, and on the advice of
Jim Rowlett she had not signalized her coming by insistence--so their
eyes met without prior warning to the man.

It was to Kenneth Thornton as if there were sunlight in one corner of
that cobwebbed room with its unwashed windows and its stale smells, and
elsewhere hung the murk of little hope. A few staunch friends, at least,
he had, but they were friends among enemies, and he steeled himself for
facing the stronger forces.

Back of the rostrum where the judge sat squalidly enthroned a line of
dusty and cobwebbed volumes tilted tipsily in ironical reminder of the
fact that this law-giver took his cue less from their ancient principles
than from whispers alien to their spirit.

A shuffling of muddy feet ensued; then a lesser sound that came with the
giving out of many breaths; a sound that has no name but which has been
known since days when men and women settled back in the circus of the
Caesars and waited for the lions to be turned into the arena where the
victims waited.

From the bench was drawled the routine query, "Has the Commonwealth any
motions?" and the Commonwealth's attorney rose to his feet and
straightened the papers on his desk.

"May it please your Honour," he said, slowly, "in the case of the
Commonwealth against Kenneth Thornton, charged with murder, now pending
on this docket, I wish to enter a motion of dismissal and to ask that
your Honour exonerate the bond of the defendant."

The man in the prisoner's dock had come braced against nerve-trying, but
now he bent forward in an amazement that he could not conceal, and from
the back of the courtroom forward ran an inarticulate sound from human
throats that needed no words to voice its incredulity--its
disappointment.

There was a light rapping of the gavel and the state's representative
went evenly on:

"The trial of this defendant would only entail a fruitless cost upon
the state. I hold here, duly attested, the confession of Sally Turk,
sister of the accused and widow of the deceased, that it was she and not
Kenneth Thornton who shot John Turk to death. I have sworn out a warrant
for this woman's arrest, and will ask the sheriff to execute it
forthwith and take her into custody."

Kenneth Thornton was on his feet with a short protest sha