, but he said: "I'm no
lawyer, but I'll do my best to see that you are treated fairly."

She thanked him with a trustful word, and the coroner began.

"You have had a great sorrow recently, I believe?"

"Yes, sir."

"A very bitter bereavement?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you any near relatives living?"

"Yes, sir. A sister and several aunts and uncles."

"Do they know where you are?"

"No, sir--at least, not precisely. They know I am in the mountains."

"Will you give me the names and addresses of these relatives?"

"I would rather not, if you please. I do not care to involve them in any
troubles of mine."

"Well, I won't insist on that at this point. But I would like to
understand whether, if I require it, you will furnish this information?"

"Certainly. Only I would rather not disturb them unnecessarily."

Her manner not only profoundly affected the coroner; it soon softened
the prejudices of the jury, although four of them were immediate friends
and neighbors of Kitsong. They all were manifestly astonished at the
candor of her replies.

The coroner himself rose and solemnly disclosed the corpse. "Do you
recognize this man?" he asked.

She paled and shrank from the face, which was brutal even in death, but
answered, quietly, "I do."

"Did you know him when alive?"

"I did not."

This answer surprised both the coroner and his jury.

"Your stepfather testified that he came to your home."

"So he did. But I refused to see him. My stepfather met him outside the
door. I never spoke to him in my life."

"You may be seated again," said Carmody, and after a slight pause
proceeded: "Why did you dislike the deceased? Was he disrespectful to
you?"

"He was."

"In what way?"

She hesitated and flushed. "He wrote to me."

"More than once?"

"Yes, several times."

"Have you those letters?"

"No; I destroyed them."

"Could you give me an idea of those letters?"

Hanscom interposed: "She can't do that, Mr. Coroner. It is evident that
they were vile."

The coroner passed this point. "You say he called at your house--how
many times?"

"Two or three, I think."

"Was your father at home each time?"

"Once I was alone."

"Did you meet Watson then?"

"No. I saw him coming in the gate and I went inside and locked the
door."

"What happened then?"

"He beat on the door, and when I failed to reply he went away."

"Was he drunk?"

"He might have been. He seemed more like an insane man to me."