"No, I never did, sir," Joe answered, respectfully. The prosecutor took up the now historic bag of gold-pieces and held it up before the witness. "When did you first see this bag of money?" he asked, solemn and severe of voice and bearing. "When Isom was lying on the floor, after he was shot." "You didn't see it when he was trying to get the gun, and when you say you were struggling with him, doing the best you could to hold him back?" Joe turned to the judge when he answered. "It might have been that Isom had it in his arm, sir, when he made for the place where the gun was hanging. I don't know. But he tried to keep me off, and he hugged one arm to his side like he was trying to hide something he didn't want me to see." "You never saw that bag of money until the moment that Isom Chase fell, you say," said the prosecutor, "but you have testified that the first words of Isom Chase when he stepped into the kitchen and saw you, were 'I'll kill you!' Why did he make that threat?" "Well, Isom was a man of unreasonable temper," said Joe. "Isn't it a fact that Isom Chase saw you with that bag of money in your hand when he came in, and sprang for the gun to protect his property?" Joe turned to the judge again, with an air of respectful patience. "I never saw that little pouch of money, Judge Maxwell, sir, until Isom fell, and lay stretched out there on the floor. I never saw that much money before in my life, and I expect that I thought more about it for a minute than I did about Isom. It all happened so quick, you know, sir." Joe spoke the last words with a covert appeal in them, as if placing the matter before the judge alone, in the confidence of his superior understanding, and the belief that he would feel their truth. The judge seemed to understand. He nodded encouragingly and smiled. "Do you recall the morning after your arrival at the home of Isom Chase to begin your service there, when you threatened to kill him?" asked the prosecutor. "I do recall that morning," admitted Joe; "but I don't feel that it's fair to hold me to account for words spoken in sudden anger and under trying circumstances. A young person, you know, sir"--addressing the judge--"oftentimes says things he don't mean, and is sorry for the next minute. You know how hot the blood of youth is, sir, and how it drives a person to say more than he means sometimes." "Now, your honor, this defendant has counsel to plead for him at the proper time," complained the prosecutor, "and I demand that he confine himself to answering my questions without comment." "Let the witness explain in his own way," said the judge, who probably felt that this concession, at least, was due a man on trial for his life. There was a finality in his words which did not admit of dispute, and the prosecuting attorney was wise enough not to attempt it.