Joe sat up as if cold water had been dashed over him. Instead of crushing him entirely, and driving him to the last corner shrinking, beaten and spiritless, and no longer capable of resistance, it seemed to give him a new grip on himself, to set his courage and defiance again on the fighting line. The prosecuting attorney resented Hammer's interference at the moment of his victory--as he believed it--and turned to him with an ugly scowl. But Hammer was imperturbable. He saw the advantage that he had gained for Joe by his interposition, and that was more than he had expected. Only a moment ago Hammer had believed everything lost. Sam Lucas repeated the question. Joe drew himself up, cold and forbidding of front. He met the prosecutor eye to eye, challenge for challenge. "I can't tell you that, sir," he replied. "The time has come when you must tell it, your evasions and dodgings will not avail you any longer. What were those words between you and Isom Chase?" "I'm sorry to have to refuse you--" began Joe. "Answer--my--question!" ordered the prosecutor in loud voice, banging his hand upon the table to accent its terror. In the excitement of the moment people rose from their seats, women dropping things which they had held in their laps, and clasping other loose articles of apparel to their skirts as they stood uncouthly, like startled fowls poising for flight. Joe folded his arms across his chest and looked into the prosecutor's inflamed face. He seemed to erect between himself and his inquisitor in that simple movement an impenetrable shield, but he said nothing. Hammer was up, objecting, making the most of the opportunity. Captain Taylor rapped on the panel of the old oak door; the crouching figures in the crowd settled back to their seats with rustlings and sighs. Sam Lucas turned to the judge, the whiteness of deeper anger sweeping the flush of excitement from his face. His voice trembled. "I insist, your honor, that the witness answer my question!" Hammer demanded that the court instruct his client regarding his constitutional privileges. Mrs. Newbolt leaned forward and held out her hands in dumb pleading toward her son, imploring him to speak. "If the matter which you are withholding," began the judge in formal speech, "would tend to incriminate you, then you are acting within your constitutional rights in refusing to answer. If not, then you can be lodged in jail for contempt of court, and held there until you answer the question which the prosecuting attorney has asked you. Do you understand this?" "Yes, sir; I understand," said Joe. "Then," said the judge, "would it incriminate you to reply to the prosecuting attorney's question?" A faint flush spread on Joe's face as he replied: "No, Judge Maxwell, it wouldn't incriminate me, sir."