"You threatened to kill Isom Chase that morning when he laid hands on you and pulled you out of bed. Your words were, as you have heard Mrs. Chase testify under oath in that very chair where you now sit, 'If you hit me, I'll kill you in your tracks!' Those were your words, were they not?" "I expect I said something like that--I don't just remember the exact words now--but that was what I wanted him to understand. I don't think I'd have hurt him very much, though, and I couldn't have killed him, because I wasn't armed. It was a hot-blooded threat, that's all it was." "You didn't ordinarily pack a gun around with you, then?" "No, sir, I never did pack a gun." "But you said you'd kill old Isom up there in the loft that morning, and you said it in a way that made him think you meant it. That's what you wanted him to understand, wasn't it?" "I talked rough, but I didn't mean it--not as bad as that anyhow." "No, that was just a little neighborly joke, I suppose," said the prosecutor sneeringly. He was playing for a laugh and he got it. Captain Taylor almost skinned his knuckles rapping them down that time, although the mirth was neither general nor boisterous. Joe did not add to Lucas's comment, and he went on: "Well, what were you doing when Isom Chase opened the door and came into the kitchen that night when he came home from serving on the jury?" "I was standing by the table," said Joe. "With your hat in your hand, or on your head, or where?" "My hat was on the table. I usually left it there at night, so it would be handy when I came down in the morning. I threw it there when I went in, before I lit the lamp." "And you say that Isom opened the door, came in and said, 'I'll kill you!' Now, what did he say before that?" "Not a word, sir," insisted Joe. "Who else was in that room?" "Nobody, sir." The prosecutor leaned forward, his face as red as if he struggled to lift a heavy weight. "Do you mean to sit there and tell this jury that Isom Chase stepped right into that room and threatened to kill you without any reason, without any previous quarrel, without seeing you doing something that gave him ground for his threat?" Joe moved his feet uneasily, clasped and unclasped his long fingers where they rested on the arm of his chair, and moistened his lips with his tongue. The struggle was coming now. They would rack him, and tear him, and break his heart. "I don't know whether they'll believe it or not," said he at last. "Where was Ollie Chase when Isom came into that room?" asked the prosecutor, lowering his voice as the men who tiptoed around old Isom when he lay dead on the kitchen floor had lowered theirs. "You have heard her say that she was in her room upstairs," said Joe. "But I am asking you this question," the prosecutor reminded him sharply. "Where was Ollie Chase?" Joe did not meet his questioner's eyes when he answered. His head was bowed slightly, as if in thought.