le, steady Sampson foreman.
Then they retired to the jury-room--a big, desolate place, wherein
was a long, ink-spattered table surrounded by wooden armchairs and
spittoons. The grand jurors seated themselves, and were solemnly
silent while John Paige, the state's attorney, began the dull task
of presenting cases. Mr. Peaslee found that he had nothing brilliant
to say.

As a matter of fact, his own troubles were making him see everything
yellow. The jurymen did not seem to him as agreeable a lot as he had
expected, and as for Paige, he irritated Solomon beyond measure.

Paige was an able young man and a good lawyer, and was entitled to
the position which he had attained so young; but, the son of a man
of rather exceptional means, he had been educated at a city college,
and had a sophistication which Solomon viewed with deep suspicion.
Moreover, he discarded the garb which Mr. Peaslee regarded as
sacred. He was not in black. Instead, he wore a light gray business
suit, his collar was very knowing in cut, and his cravat of dark
blue was caught with a gold pin.

"Citified smart Aleck," was Mr. Peaslee's characterization. To tell
the truth, he mistrusted the man's ability, and was afraid of him.
If that fellow knew, Mr. Peaslee felt that it would go hard with
him. Generally, Paige was popular.

Solomon had, of course, been painfully awake to every hint and
intimation in regard to Jim's case. He had seen Jake Hibbard, that
carrion crow of the law, loafing about the corridors, and the sight
had made him shiver. He had next heard that Jim's case would be
quickly called,--probably on the next day,--news producing a complex
emotion, the elements of which he could not distinguish.
Furthermore, a remark or so which he overheard indicated that the
out-of-town men were inclined to take a harsh view of the matter.
And reflecting on all these things, he paddled home through the
depressing wet.

And the next day it rained.

More and more perturbed, as the climax approached, Mr. Peaslee took
his place in the jury-room, and sat there with unhearing ears. He
sat and thought and delivered battle with his conscience, which was
growing painfully vigorous and aggressive. But, after all, perhaps
they would not find a true bill, and then Jim would go free, and he
could breathe again. Mr. Peaslee clung to the hope, and hugged it.
It was the one thing which gave him courage.

"Gentlemen of the grand jury," suddenly he heard Paige saying,