The foreman was a retired sea-captain. “Good cap'n--Cap'n Thomas,” one of his neighbors had said of him. “Allers gits good ships--never hez to go huntin' 'round for a vessel. But it is astonishin' what differences they is! Now there 's Cap'n A. K. P. Bassett, down to the West Harbor. You let it git 'round that Cap'n A. K. P. is goin' off on a Chiny voyage, and you 'll see half a dozen old shays to once-t, hitched all along his fence of an arternoon, and wimmen inside the house, to git Cap'n A. K. P. to take their boys. But you let Cap'n Thomas give out that he wants boys, and he hez to glean 'em--from the poor-house, and from step-mothers, and where he can: the women knows! Still,” he added, “Cap'n Thomas 's a good cap'n. I've nothin' to say ag'in him. He's smart!” “Gentlemen,” said the foreman, when the officer, at last, had securely locked them in, “shall we go through the formality of a ballot? If the case were a less serious one, we might have rendered a verdict in our seats.” “What's the use foolin' 'round ballotin'?” said a thick-set butcher. “Ain't we all o' one mind?” “It is for you to say, gentlemen,” said the foreman. “I should n't want to have it go abroad that we had not acted formally, if there was any one disposed to cavil.” “Mr. Speaker,” said George Washington, rising and standing in the attitude of Webster, “I rises to appoint to order. We took ballast in de prior cases, and why make flesh of one man an' a fowl of another?” “Very well,” said the foreman, a trifle sharply; “'the longest way round is the shortest way home.'” Twelve slips of paper were handed out, to be indorsed guilty, “for form.” They were collected in a hat and the foreman told them over--“just for form.” “'Guilty,' 'guilty,' 'guilty,' 'guilty,'--wait a minute,” he said, “here is a mistake. Here is one 'not guilty'--whose is this?” There was a pause. “Whose is it?” said the foreman, sharply. Eli turned a little red. “It's mine,” he said. “Do you mean it?” said the foreman. “Of course I mean it,” he answered. “Whew!” whistled the foreman. “Very well, sir; we'll have an understanding, then. This case is proved to the satisfaction of every man who heard it, I may safely say, but one. Will that one please state the grounds of his opinion?” “I ain't no talker,” said Eli, “but I ain't satisfied he 's guilty--that's all.” “Don't you believe the witnesses?” “Mostly.” “Which one don't you believe?” “I can't say. I don't believe he's guilty.” “Is there one that you think lied?” No answer. “Now it seems to me--” said a third juryman. “One thing at a time, gentlemen,” said the foreman. “Let us wait for an answer from Mr. Smith. Is there any one that you think lied? We will wait, gentlemen, for an answer.” There was a long pause. The trial seemed to Eli Smith to have shifted from the court to this shabby room, and he was now the culprit. All waited for him; all eyes were fixed upon him.