f a brief
introduction, stepped silently as they filed past the body of their late
friend and neighbor.

For the jurymen had been gathered hastily from among the citizens of
West Sedgwick who chanced to be passing; and as it was after eleven
o'clock, they were, for the most part, men of leisure, and occupants of
the handsome homes in the vicinity.

Probably none of them had ever before been called to act on a coroner's
jury, and all seemed impressed with the awfulness of the crime, as well
as imbued with a personal sense of sorrow.

Two of the jurors had been mentioned to me by name, by the coachman
who brought me from the station. Horace Hamilton and Lemuel Porter were
near-by neighbors of the murdered man, and; I judged from their remarks,
were rather better acquainted with him than were the others.

Mr. Hamilton was of the short, stout, bald-headed type, sometimes called
aldermanic. It was plainly to be seen that his was a jocund nature, and
the awe which he felt in this dreadful presence of death, though clearly
shown on his rubicund face, was evidently a rare emotion with him.
He glanced round the room as if expecting to see everything there
materially changed, and though he looked toward the figure of Mr.
Crawford now and then, it was with difficulty, and he averted his
eyes as quickly as possible. He was distinctly nervous, and though
he listened to the remarks of Coroner Monroe and the other jurors, he
seemed impatient to get away.

Mr. Porter, in appearance, was almost the exact reverse of Mr. Hamilton.
He was a middle-aged man with the iron gray hair and piercing dark eyes
that go to make up what is perhaps the handsomest type of Americans. He
was a tall man, strong, lean and sinewy, with a bearing of dignity and
decision. Both these men were well-dressed to the point of affluence,
and, as near neighbor and intimate friends of the dead man, they seemed
to prefer to stand together and a little apart from the rest.

Three more of the jurors seemed to me not especially noticeable in any
way. They looked as one would expect property owners in West Sedgwick to
look. They listened attentively to what Mr. Monroe said, asked few or no
questions, and seemed appalled at the unusual task they had before them.

Only one juror impressed me unpleasantly. That was Mr. Orville, a
youngish man, who seemed rather elated at the position in which he found
himself. He fingered nearly everything on the desk; he peered carefu