Abner Levens was locked in the unreliable jail of Coldriver village, and a watch placed over him. Those who saw him marveled at his demeanor; Scattergood Baines marveled at it, for it was not the demeanor of a man--even of an innocent man--accused of a crime for which the penalty was death. Abner sat upon the hard bench and looked quietly, even placidly, out at the brightness of day, as it was apparent beyond flimsy iron bars, and his expression was the expression of _contentment_. He had not demanded the benefit of legal guidance; he had neither affirmed nor denied his guilt; indeed, he had uttered no word since the door of the jail had closed behind him. Mary Ware spoke to the young man through the window of the jail in full view of all Coldriver. "You didn't do it, Abner. I know you didn't do it," she said, so that all might hear, "and if you still want me, Abner, like you said, I'll stick by you through thick and thin." "Thank ye, Mary," Abner replied. "Now I guess you better go away." "What shall I do, Abner--to help you?" "Nothing Mary. Looks like God's took aholt of matters. Better let him finish 'em in his own way." That was all; neither Mary Ware nor any other could get more out of him, and it was said by many to be a confession of guilt. "Realizes there hain't no use makin' a defense. Calc'lates on takin' his medicine like a man," said Postmaster Pratt.... There were those in town who voiced the wish that it had been some other than Abner who had killed Asa Levens. "His gun's been shot recent," said the sheriff. It was the final gram of evidence necessary to complete assurance of Abner's guilt. Mary Ware was observed by many to walk directly from the jail window to Scattergood Baines's hardware store, and there to stop and address Scattergood, who sat barefooted, and therefore in deep thought, before the door of his place of business. "Mr. Baines," said Mary, "you've helped other folks. Will you help me?" "Help you how, Mary? What kin I do for you?" "Abner isn't guilty, Mr. Baines" "Tell you so?... Abner tell you so?" "No." "Um!... 'F he was innocent, wouldn't he deny it, Mary?" He did not permit her to reply, but asked another question. "What makes you say he hain't guilty, Mary?" "Because I know it," she replied, simply. "How do you know it, Mary? It's mighty hard to _know_ anythin' on earth. How d'you _know_?" "Because I know," said Mary. "'Twon't convince no jury." Mary stood in silence for a moment, and then turned away, not tearful, not despairing. "Hold your hosses," said Scattergood. "Kin you think of anythin' that might convince a _stranger_ that Abner is innocent?" Mary considered. "Asa was shot," she said. Scattergood nodded. "From behind," said Mary. Scattergood nodded again. "Asa never knew who shot him," said Mary, and again Scattergood moved his head. "If Abner had killed Asa," she went on, "he would have done it with his hands. He would have wanted Asa to know who was killing him."