Ollie concluded her recital in the same low, dragging and spiritless voice in which she had begun it. Conscience whipped her through, but it could not make her unafraid. Hammer turned to the prosecutor with questioning eyes. Lucas announced that he did not desire to cross-examine the witness, and the judge dismissed her. Ollie went back to her mother. No demonstration accompanied her passing, but a great sigh sounded over the room as the tenseness of the listening strain relaxed, and the fulness of satisfaction came in its place. Mrs. Newbolt still clung to her son's hand. She nodded at the prosecuting attorney with glowing eyes, as if glorying over him in the moment of his defeat. Alice Price smiled joyously, and leaned back from her posture of concentration. The colonel whispered to her, bringing the palms of his hands together in silent but expressive applause. The prosecuting attorney stood. "Your honor--" he began, but Judge Maxwell, lifting his head from the reflecting pose into which he had fallen when Ollie left the stand, silenced him with an impatient gesture. "One moment, Mr. Prosecutor," said he. The prosecutor flushed, and sat down in ruffled dignity. "I merely wanted to make a motion for dismissal," said he, sarcastically, as if it was only the merest incidental in the day's proceedings. "That is not the procedure," said the judge. "The state owes it to this defendant to absolve him before the public of the obloquy of this unfounded and cruel accusation." "Vindication is what we demand, your honor," said Hammer grandly; "vindication before the world!" He spread his arms wide, as if the world stood before him, fat and big of girth like himself, and he meant to embrace it with the next breath. "You shall have it, Mr. Hammer," said the judge. He turned to the jury. "Gentlemen of the jury, this case has come to a sudden and unexpected end. The state's case, prosecuted with such worthy energy and honorable intention, has collapsed. Your one duty now, gentlemen, is to return a verdict of not guilty. Will it be necessary for you to retire to the jury room?" The jurymen had been exchanging glances. Now the foreman rose, tall and solemn, with beard upon his breast. "Your honor, it will not be necessary for the jury to retire," said he. "We are ready to return our verdict." According to the form, the foreman wrote out the verdict on the blank provided by statute; he stood with his fellows while the clerk of the court read it aloud: "We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty." The judge looked down at Joe, who had turned to his mother, smiling through his tears. "You are free, God bless you!" said he.