t. To endure suffering or
inconvenience is more natural than to change their settled habits. So
it all ended in his going home at about eight o'clock, and being greatly
relieved to find some callers there.

All three of this strangely stricken family, indeed, shared that
feeling. It was such a rest from the nervous strain whenever either
or both were left alone with Joseph! The earnestness with which Mrs.
Kilgore pressed her guests to stay a little longer was so unusual and
apparently uncalled for that I fancy Mr. and Mrs. Smith had a vague
suspicion that they were being made game of. But they would have been
disabused of that impression could they have appreciated the sinking
of heart with which their hosts heard the frontdoor close, and realized
that they were again left to themselves. Only one thing had occurred to
mar the relief which the call had afforded. The topic of the murder had
been exhausted before Joseph entered, but, just as she was leaving, Mrs.
Smith made a return to it, saying:--

"Mrs. Kilgore, I was telling my husband I should think you must be
scared to be in the house, for fear the murderer might still be hanging
around."

Mrs. Kilgore shuddered, and cast an instantaneous, wholly involuntary
glance at Joseph. Her husband intercepted it, and, catching his eye, she
saw an expression in it as if he could strangle her for what was really
only the fault of her nerves. She stammered something, and the bustle of
the retiring guests covered her confusion well enough.

Unfortunately, Joseph, too, had caught that sudden, terrified glance of
his sister-in-law's at him, and it affected him more than anything that
had occurred in either of the two days since the murder. As the guests
took their leave, his head dropped on his breast, and his arms fell by
the sides of his chair. Mr. Kilgore wanted to send his wife from the
room, but his voice stuck in his throat, his tongue refused to move.
They waited a moment, and then Joseph said:--

"Send for the police! For God's sake, take me out of this! I can't stand
it any longer!"

It was not yet nine o'clock, and a boy came by in the street crying:--

"Extra! The Kilgore barn murderer captured! Full confession!"

Although the words were perfectly audible through the lowered windows
to all in the room, Mrs. Kilgore was the only one who took any mental
cognizance of them. Nor did either of the men, who sat there like
stones, take note of her as she left the room.