"Fit?" said Hiram. "It took some spunk to get up there and tell just what a fool he'd been, didn't--" "Humph!" Abijah interrupted, with a snort. "Had to, didn't he? Farnsworth asked him where he was, didn't he? Had to squirm out somehow, didn't he? Got about as much spine as a taller candle with the wick drawed out, accordin' to his own showin'. Better weed him out, better weed him out! Humph!" Poor Mr. Peaslee sank still lower in his chair; his head fell still lower on his chest. They were taking away from him even the credit of voluntary confession. Why had Farnsworth asked that question? In casting doubt upon his one brave deed fate seemed to him to have done its worst. "He'd got up before I put the question," said Farnsworth. He wished to be just. But he was indignant with Peaslee. After his first laughter, his thoughts had dwelt upon the trouble that Solomon had brought upon the innocent Jim, "just to save his own hide, the old--skee-zicks!" he exclaimed to himself. After all, what did he know about Peaslee? If the man had merely shot at a cat, why under the sun should he not have said so at once, and saved all this bother? The more he thought, the more indignant he grew--and the more doubtful. He did not notice at all the look of timid gratitude which Mr. Peaslee cast in his direction. "Course he was up before you spoke!" Solomon was further gratified to hear Hopkins declare, in his big, hearty voice. "And I think a man who owns up fair and square just when it's hardest to has got spine enough to hold him together, anyhow." "Up before ye asked him!" Abijah turned on Farnsworth. "Up for what? Tell me that, will ye?" And Solomon, listening anxiously for Farnsworth's answer, was depressed to hear him give merely a good-humored laugh at Uncle Abijah's thrust. "Mr. Peaslee," asked Sampson, so unexpectedly that Solomon jumped, "didn't you say something about a marble?" "Yes," said Mr. Peaslee, gloomily. "Fit the bore, did it?" continued the foreman. "Slick," answered Mr. Peaslee, with the brevity of despair. "If that marble fitted the bore," said Albion Small, while Sampson nodded assent, "it's my opinion it might do considerable damage." His opinion had weight, for Small was a hunter of repute. Recovered from their amusement, the grand jurors had become gradually impressed with the idea that Mr. Peaslee's confession still left some awkward questions unanswered. If the matter were so simple as he said, why had he kept silent so long? The jurymen came from all over the rather large county, and although they all had some knowledge of the principal men of Ellmington, and although such of them as had dealings at its bank had met Mr. Peaslee, none of them knew him well. He was a newcomer at the village, and when at his farm had not had a wide acquaintance.