settled in some way. This
is no child's play. You can't keep eleven men here, trifling with
them, giving no pretence of a reason."

"I haven't any reasons, only that I don't believe he's guilty," said
Eli. "I'm not goin' to vote a man into states-prison, when I don't
believe he done it," and he rose and walked to the window, and looked
out. It was low tide. There was a broad stretch of mud in the
distance, covered with boats lying over disconsolate. A driving storm
had emptied the streets. He beat upon the rain-dashed glass a moment
with his fingers, and then he sat down again.

"Well, sir," said the foreman, "this is singular conduct. What do you
propose to do?"

Silence.

"I suppose you realize that the rest of us are pretty rapidly forming
a conclusion on this matter," said the foreman.

"Come! come!" said Mr. Eldridge; "don't be quite so hard on him,
Captain. Now, Mr. Smith," he said, standing up with his hands in his
coat-pockets, and looking at Eli, "we know that there often is crooked
sticks on juries, that hold out alone--that's to be expected; but they
always argue, and stand to it the rest are fools, and all that. Now,
all is, we don't see why you don't sort of argue, if you've got
reasons satisfactory to you. Come, now," he added, walking up to Eli,
and resting one foot on the seat of his chair, "why don't you tell it
over? and if we're wrong, I'm ready to join you."

Eli looked up at him.

"Didn't you ever know," he said, "of a man's takin' a cat off, to
lose, that his little girl didn't want drownded, and leavin' him
ashore, twenty or thirty miles, bee-line, from home, and that cat's
bein' back again the next day, purrin' 'round 's if nothin' had
happened?"

"Yes," said Mr. Eldridge--"knew of just such a case."

"Very well," said Eli; "how does he find his way home?"

"Don't know," said Mr. Eldridge; "always has been a standing mystery
to me."

"Well," said Eli, "mark my words. There's such a thing as arguin', and
there's such a thing as knowin' outright; and when you'll tell me how
that cat inquires his way home, I'll tell you how I know John Wood
ain't guilty."

This made a certain sensation, and Eli's stock went up.

An old, withered man rapped on the table.

"That's so!" he said; "and there's other sing'lar things! How is it
that a sea-farin' man, that's dyin' to home, will allers die on the
ebb-tide? It never fails, but how does it happen? Tell me that! And
there's more ways than on