of his pocket; he replaced the watch, but not the key which fell to the floor, and which I picked up beside the body of the dead man."
Abner turned toward the judge.
"And so," he said, "I charge Simon Kilrail with this murder; because the key winds his watch; because the record in the old deed book is a conveyance by the heirs of Marsh's lands to him at the life tenant's death; and because the book we found in his library is a book on poisons with the leaves uncut, except at the very page describing that identical poison with which Elihu Marsh was murdered."
The strained silence that followed Abner's words was broken by a voice that thundered in the courtroom. It was Randolph's.
"Come down!" he said.
And this time Nathaniel Davisson was silent.
The Judge got slowly on his feet, a resolution was forming in his face, and it advanced swiftly.
"I will give you my answer in a moment," he said.
Then he turned about and went into his room behind the Bench. There was but one door, and that opening into the court, and the people waited.
The windows were open and we could see the green fields, and the sun, and the far-off mountains, and the peace and quiet and serenity of autumn