Jim was buried on Tuesday. The funeral was very quiet, only Mary and myself, with a few of Jim's most intimate friends, attending. I have always had a repugnance to large and ostentatious funerals and I felt that Jim would have preferred to have the actual ceremony over as quickly and quietly as possible. It affected me too much to allow me to think of anything else but my loss, at the time, and I should have left town the day after, had I not received a summons to appear before the grand jury. Mary called me up and told me that she, too, had been summoned, so I drove the car around for her. She was nervous and frightened at the thought of having to testify and she asked me all the questions she could think of on what to do and what to say. I reassured her, telling her the district attorney was friendly to Jim and that I was confident our testimony as to Helen's words would stave off any indictment until Helen was well enough to testify. "But, Warren, the fact that she was delirious will make it pretty shaky testimony, won't it?" Mary argued. "Yes, that's true. But I don't think that they will want to bring an indictment while Helen is ill. You see, the indictment couldn't be served anyway, and I think our testimony will convince them there's a reasonable doubt as to Helen's guilt." She seemed convinced until the gloomy bulk of the court-house came in view, when terror rushed back fourfold. "Oh, Bupps, can't I get out of it?" "No, dear, it's got to be gone through with. Remember it depends on you and me." "But what if they ask me Jim's and Helen's conversation before they started for the country-club?" "Tell them as little as possible, but stick to the truth. We know Helen's innocent and the truth can't hurt her." We passed Inspector Robinson in the hall down-stairs and the half smile on his lips irritated me. It was his report to the grand jury that had stirred things up. He knew only too well that with the sensational _Sun_ to back him, an indictment would be taken by the public to mean proven guilt. At the entrance to the anteroom we found Wicks, his face drawn into lines of the most acute misery. "I couldn't 'elp it, sir. They made me come." "I know it, Wicks. Don't worry! It's a mere formality," I reassured him. "I 'ope so, sir, but I don't like it." "None of us do, Wicks, but it can't be helped," I replied. "Did Annie come with you?" "No, sir. Strange to say she wasn't called, sir." Good! That helped our case some. Mary and I walked into the anteroom to await our turn. The coroner was already there. Wicks had followed us and took a seat close by. Mary's face was a study in suppressed nervousness. "Couldn't you go in there with me, Bupps?" she asked. "No, Mary, the grand jury does its work in secret." A clerk called the coroner and as he passed from the room, Robinson and Pickering came in. Robinson didn't even glance in my direction, but Pickering walked over quickly and shook hands.