"Johnnie!" he himself called out aloud. "Johnnie, tell me--tell me who it was, and I'll take you to see the pictures right away." "Him!" shrieked Johnnie. "Him--there's that shiny thing." "When was it, Johnnie--what do you mean about this man?" The sheriff now spoke to him. "I hit you--that night--I'll hit you again now! Nobody going to pick on Johnnie. Best man in Jackson County--eejit!" "You're going to take me away to jail again," said he cunningly. "But you can't. I was just going to talk to her before, and you come and took me away. But I hit him. Now I'll kill you so you'll stay dead." Slowly, cautiously creeping down the steps, club in hand, he followed the two men, who backed away from him--backed out through the gate on to the sidewalk, into the street. From across the street Nels Jorgens in his wagon shop saw what was going on, and came running, a stout wagon spoke caught up in his own hand. He passed this to Ephraim Adamson. "Look out, Sheriff!" he called out. "He's wild. He'll kill somebody yet." Nels Jorgens and one or two others saw what then happened. The madman, now murderously excited, stopped in his deliberate advance. His eyes flamed green with hatred at all this before him. The lust of blood showed on his features, usually so mild. He saw his father standing now, this weapon in his hand; and forgetting every tie in the world, if ever he had felt one, sprang at him with a scream of rage. Ephraim Adamson stepped back, tripped, fell. He saw above him the face of his son, with murder in his eyes. He closed his own eyes. And then Nels Jorgens and one or two others who came hurrying up saw a puff of smoke, heard the roar of a shot Dan Cowles had fired just in time.... There was no need to send poor Johnnie Adamson to the asylum. He had gone now to a farther country. He sank, a vast bulk, at his full length along the narrow strip of dusty grass between the curb and the walk. His shoulders heaved once or twice, his arms fell lax. Dan Cowles, solemn-faced, his weapon still in his hand, turned to gaze at the haggard man who rose slowly, turning away from that which he now saw. "It was the act of committing a felony," said Dan Cowles slowly. "It was to save human life. He resisted arrest, and he was armed. It was a felony." But when old Ephraim Adamson turned his gray face to that of the officer of the law, in his sad eyes there was no resentment. He held out his hand. "Dan," said he, "thank God you done it! Thank God it's over!" CHAPTER XXI A TRUE BILL Now it was nine o'clock of the Monday morning. The grand jury was in session thus early, and it had thus early brought in a true bill against one Dieudonne Lane for murder in the first degree. The session of the jury had just begun. None of the jury knew of these late events at the house of Aurora Lane.