"My son, my son," he said, "you and I must know each other better."

And by the same token, Jim realized that his father was proud of him
and loved him. It was new and sweet. He felt a little foolish, but
very happy.

"Jim," his father said huskily, "would you like a new
breech-loader?"

And then Jim was happier still.

* * * * *

Those were reluctant feet which dragged Mr. Peaslee the next morning
to the jury-room. The counsel of the night had brought no comfort,
and when he came among his fellows their constraint and silence were
far from reassuring. Nor, when the sitting had begun, did he like
the enigmatic smile with which the well-dressed Paige stood and
swung his watch-chain. How he distrusted and feared this smug,
self-complacent young man! Yet the state's attorney's first words
brought him unexpected comfort.

"Mr. Lamoury," he said, still with that puzzling smile, "has
consented, in spite of his serious physical condition, to appear
before you."

Lamoury could not be so badly hurt if he could come to the court
house! But what was this? While the state's attorney held wide the
door, Jake Hibbard solemnly pushed into the room a great wheeled
chair, in which sat the small, wiry, furtive-eyed Lamoury.

Mr. Peaslee's heart sank as he saw the wheeled chair, and noted the
great bandages about the Frenchman's head and arm. He listened
apprehensively to the loud complaint of cruelty to his client which
Hibbard continued to make, until Paige, pulling the chair into the
room, blandly shut the door in his face. Mr. Peaslee heaved a great
sigh of mingled contrition and fear. This wreck was his work; he
would be punished for it.

"Mr. Lamoury," Paige began courteously, "we so wished to get your
version of this painful affair that, though we are sorry to cause
you any discomfort, we have felt obliged to bring you here. Will you
kindly tell the gentlemen of the grand jury what happened?"

"Yes, seh, me, Ah'll tol' heem!" said Lamoury, eagerly.

Confident that no one knew anything about what had happened except
Jim Edwards and himself, he intended to make his narrative
striking.

"Yes, seh, Ah'll tol' de trut'. Well, seh, Ah'll be goin' t'rough
M'sieu' Edwards's horchard--walkin' t'rough same as any mans. Den I
look, han' I see dat leetly boy in de windy, a-shoutin' and
a-cussin' lak he gone crazee in hees head. Ah tol' you Ah feel bad
for hear dat leetly boy cussin'. Dat was