There was a shuffling of feet among the men at the back of the room. More men seemed to be crowding in. "That," said the news editor aloud, sitting back beside Wayland, "That effectually cooks my dough! See that you fellows do as well!" Eleanor was next questioned, most considerately and courteously. Twice she was interrupted. The first time was when she repeated that her father had said he expected no trouble whatsoever. "I would call your attention to the fact, Mr. Coroner, that the deceased gentleman assured his daughter he expected no trouble whatsoever," called out the attorney. The Sheriff leaned over and whispered to the coroner. "Did the half-breed woman known as Calamity leave the Ranch House the night before the examination of the mine?" asked the coroner. It was when Eleanor was describing the mad look of Calamity that the attorney again interrupted: "Mr. Coroner, out of respect to the memory of the deceased gentleman and to the member of his family present, I ask that the stenographer strike out the record of the insane woman's babblings! The fact is established on the word of Miss MacDonald that the Indian woman set out with the express intention of seeking her employer. What she intended to do when she found him, we cannot know; for the woman was plainly insane and her word is worthless." Bat wore a tallow smile. The attorney's expression became inscrutable. Sheriff Flood's face shone as a new moon. The other faces were a puzzled blank. "You want to check that," whispered the news editor to Wayland. Matthews was being questioned. "Before A proceed t' answer y'r verra civil inquiries, Mr. Coroner, A wud ask the privilege o' puttin' three questions!" "Go ahead, Sir!" "Why is the man O'Finnigan not here?" "Still drunk," answered the Sheriff. "Then, if A commit a crime, if A cut y'r throat, Mr. Coroner, all A have t' do t' avoid awkward questions, is t' fill up? Verra well! Why is the woman Calamity, herself, not here?" "Can't be found," called Wayland. "So that if A'm accused of a crime A know no more about than th' babe unborn, all A've t' do t' rivet that crime on myself for life is not to be found? Verra well--" "Sir," interrupted the coroner. "A wud ask why is that little Irish lassie not here?" Mrs. Williams explained that Lizzie, having exhausted the Indian children with her boastings in two days, had lost interest in life and run back to the slums.