“No,” he replied, “I don’t. I ain’t a lawyer; but I don’t believe that’s the law. They say law’s founded on justice, and it ain’t just, and it ain’t human for any one to have the right to disturb my dead in their graves against my will. God’s Acre in this land and in this age is his holy of holies. He sends his rain an’ dew an’ frost to fall more gently on the homes o’ the dead than on the homes o’ the livin’; and it’s the duty, and ought to be the joy of any man to protect that sacred place from desecration.” Through the hush that had fallen on the great crowd in the room, the old man’s voice rang pathetically clear. On the faces of the spectators there were no longer any smiles. The whole atmosphere of the court room had changed to one of solemn earnestness. Even the examining lawyer saw that it would not be fitting nor profitable to follow out that line of questioning. When he again spoke it was in a quieter voice, and on another branch of the subject. “Mr. Pickett,” he said, “when did you first see this line of stakes?” “Not till the next mornin’ after they were set.” “Did you follow the line?” “I did.” “Did it run through your graveyard at that time?” “No, sir, it went across the brook and around the graveyard, in as han’some a curve as you ever saw.” Charlie Pickett, sitting back among the spectators, his heart throbbing with pity and pride as the old man’s examination progressed, heard this last answer and flushed to his finger-tips. “Were there no stakes in the graveyard?” “Not one. I saw the place, though, where one had been set and pulled out. I pulled another out of the same place myself four days later and flung it into the brook.” Marshall paid little heed to this last answer, although it was in the nature of a direct challenge. A new thought appeared to have struck him. He gazed at the ceiling contemplatively for a full minute before proceeding with his examination. “By the way,” he said, “how early in the morning was it that you saw this line of stakes?” “Just about sunrise.” “Where had you come from?” “From the house.” “Had you been long up?” “Just got up.” “Did you go alone to look at the line?” “Yes--no; my grandson, Dannie, went with me.” “Where did you first see him that morning?” “There at the house.” “Indoors or outside?” “Why, I believe he was comin’ up the path.” “Had he been long out of bed?” “That I don’t know.” “Do you know where he had been when you first saw him coming up the path?” The old man waited a moment before answering. Some vague apprehension of trouble about to fall upon Dannie seemed to be taking possession of his mind. “Why, no,” he replied slowly, “I can’t just say where he had been.” “Was this the same boy that heard you make that declaration concerning the stakes the night before?” “Yes--why, yes--the same boy. Yes--the same boy.”