"the
next case for you to consider is that of James Edwards, aged
fifteen, of Ellmington, charged with assault, with intent to kill,
upon one Peter Lamoury, also of Ellmington."

And he proceeded to read the complaint, which, in spite of the
monotonous rapidity with which he rattled it off, scared Mr. Peaslee
badly with its solemn-sounding legal phraseology.

"Gentlemen," said Paige, laying down the paper, "there was no
eyewitness to the actual assault; and only three people have any
personal knowledge of the event--Mr. Edwards, the defendant's
father, the accused himself, and the complainant. Mr. Lamoury, his
counsel tells me, is in no condition to appear. But I have here,"
lifting a paper, "his affidavit, properly executed, giving his
version of the matter. The boy's father, however, is at hand.
Probably the jury would like to question him."

"It seems to me," said Mr. Sampson, "that Mr. Edwards would be
pretty apt to know the rights of it, if he's willing to talk. I
guess we'd better hear him."

The state's attorney stepped to the door.

"This way, please!" he called, and Mr. Edwards entered the room.

Farnsworth and Peaslee both studied the man's face closely,
although for very different reasons, and both found it sternly
uncompromising.

"Please take a chair, Mr. Edwards," said Paige, and in a swift
glance rapidly estimated the man. "Here's some one who won't lie,"
he thought, impressed.

"Now," he resumed, "will you kindly tell the members of the grand
jury what you know of the case?"

Mr. Edwards cleared his throat painfully. Determined as he was to
let his rebellious boy take whatever punishment his mistaken course
might bring, he now began to wish that the punishment would be
light. His confidence that Jim needed only to be pushed a little to
confess was somewhat shaken, and the charge was really serious. He
felt a desire to explain, to palliate, to minimize.

"Gentlemen," he said, "my boy's always been a good boy. I can't
believe that he meant to hurt Lamoury or any one else. It must have
been some accident--"

"Facts, please," said Paige, crisply.

Mr. Peaslee caught his breath indignantly. He had been entirely in
sympathy with Mr. Edwards's soft mode of approaching his story.
Paige seemed to him unfeeling.

"I will answer any questions," said Mr. Edwards, stiffening.

"Did you hear any shot fired?" began Paige.

"Yes."

"Where were you?"

"I was asleep in the room above Jim's."

"