"My hands were as empty as they are this minute," said Joe, but not
without a little color in his cheeks when he remembered how hot and
small Ollie's hand had felt within his own.

"When did you first see this?" asked the coroner, holding up the sack
with the burst corner which had lain on Isom's breast.

The ruptured corner had been tied with a string, and the sack bulged
heavily in the coroner's hand.

"When Isom was lying on the floor after he was shot," said Joe.

A movement of feet was audible through the room. People looked at each
other, incredulity in their eyes. The coroner returned to the incidents
which led up to the shooting snapping back to that phase of the inquiry
suddenly, as if in the expectation of catching Joe off his guard.

"What did he threaten to kill you for?" he asked sharply.

"Well, Isom was an unreasonable and quick-tempered man," Joe replied.

The coroner rose to his feet in a quick start, as if he intended to leap
over the table. He pointed his finger at Joe, shaking his somber beard.

"What did Isom Chase catch you at when he came into that kitchen?" he
asked accusingly.

"He saw me standing there, just about to blow out the light and go to
bed," said Joe.

"What did you and Isom quarrel about last night?"

Joe did not reply at once. He seemed debating with himself over the
advisability of answering at all. Then he raised his slow eyes to the
coroner's face.

"That was between him and me," said he.

"Very well," said the coroner shortly, resuming his seat. "You may tell
the jury how Isom Chase was shot."

Joe described Isom's leap for the gun, the struggle he had with him to
restrain him, the catching of the lock in the fork as Isom tugged at the
barrel, the shot, and Isom's death.

When he finished, the coroner bent over his note-book again, as if
little interested and less impressed. Silence fell over the room. Then
the coroner spoke, his head still bent over the book, not even turning
his face toward the witness, his voice soft and low.

"You were alone with Isom in the kitchen when this happened?"

A flash of heat ran over Ollie's body. After it came a sweeping wave of
cold. The room whirled; the world stood on edge. Her hour had struck;
the last moment of her troubled security was speeding away. What would
Joe answer to that?

"Yes," said Joe calmly, "we were alone."

Ollie breathed again; her heart's constriction relaxed.

The coroner wheeled on Joe.

"Where