t.

The prosecuting attorney was speaking with the judge when they went
in. In a moment he took his seat.

"John Wood!" called out the clerk, and the defendant arose. His
attorney was not there.

"Mr. Foreman!" said the judge, rising. The jury arose. The silence of
the crowded court-room was intense.

"Before the clerk asks you for a verdict, gentlemen," said the judge,
"I have something of the first importance to say to you, which has but
this moment come to my knowledge."

Eli changed color, and the whole court-room looked at him.

"There were some most singular rumors, after the case was given to
you, gentlemen, to the effect that there had been in this cause a
criminal abuse of justice. It is painful to suspect, and shocking to
know, that courts and juries are liable ever to suffer by such
unprincipled practices. After ten years upon the bench, I never
witness a conviction of crime without pain; but that pain is light,
compared with the distress of knowing of a wilful perversion of
justice. It is a relief to me to be able to say to you that such
instances are, in my judgment, exceedingly rare, and--so keen is the
awful searching power of truth--are almost invariably discovered."

The foreman touched his neighbor with his elbow. Eli folded his arms.

"As I said," continued the judge, "there were most singular rumors.
During the evening and the night, rumor, as is often the case, led to
evidence, and evidence has led to confession and to certainty. And the
district attorney now desires me to say to you that the chief officer
of the bank--who held the second key to the safe--is now under arrest
for a heavy defalcation, which a sham robbery was to conceal, and that
you may find the prisoner at the bar--not guilty. I congratulate you,
gentlemen, that you had not rendered an adverse verdict."

"Your Honor!" said Eli; and he cleared his throat; "I desire it to be
known that, even as the case stood last night, this jury had not
agreed to convict, and never would have!"

There was a hush, while a loud scratching pen indorsed the record of
acquittal. Then Wood walked down to the jury-box and took Eli's hand.

"Just what I told my wife all through," he said. "I knew you'd hang
out!"

* * * * *

Eli's jury was excused for the rest of the day, and by noon he was in
his own village, relieved, too, of his most pressing burden: for
George Cahoon had met him on the road, and told him th