Long before I reached the court-house I heard old Conkwright bellowing at the jury. The windows were full of people and outside men were standing upon boxes, straining to see the old fellow in his mighty tirade. I could not get into the room, but I squeezed my way to the door and stood there, with my blood leaping. Now I could see why they had called him powerful. His face was aglow, his gray hair was upon end and his eyes were shooting darts at the jury. I know not how long he spoke, but I know that suddenly he was silent, looking upward, and then, spreading his hands over the jury, said: "May God in his infinite mercy influence your decision." He sat down, and I noticed then that the air was cooler with a breeze that sprang up when the sun had set. The state's attorney made a few remarks, and then the judge delivered his charge to the jury, an address short, but earnest. Now there was a shoving and a crush--the jurymen were filing out. I saw them leading Alf back to the jail, but I did not go to him, so pulled and hauled I was by hope and fear. But I made my way to the old lawyer, and asked him what he thought. "I don't know," he answered. "Don't you see the disposition there is to rush everything? I don't think they will be out long." "You made a great speech, sir." "Wasn't bad, considering the material. We were at a disadvantage. He stood there in the road, you know, and that is a hard thing to get round." "But the judge must have felt your speech." "Why, my son, I don't suppose he heard it." I went away and again I walked about the town. It was dusk and the tavern bell was ringing. On the court-house steps and on the public square men were discussing the trial and venturing their opinions as to the result. I heard one man say: "The old soldier made a great fight, but the odds were against him. Bet ten dollars they find him guilty." "There's his friend over there," another man spoke up. "Don't talk so loud." "Can't help who's there listening; money's here talkin'. Any takers?" Not far away there was a wooden bridge over a small stream and thither I went and leaned upon the rail, listening to the murmur of the water. I thought that this must be the brook that rippled past our house, and I went down to the water's edge and bathed my aching head. Then I remembered that I had eaten nothing since early morning, and I thought that I would better go to the tavern, and was turning away when I heard some one cry: "The jury is in and court has met again!" I scrambled up and hastened toward the court-house, and at the steps I met a number of men coming out. "It's all over," one of them said to me. "Imprisonment for life. Conkwright has moved for a new trial and the judge has granted it." I hastened to the jail, whither they had taken Alf. I found him seated on his bed. He got up when he saw me. "Bill," he said, in a voice low and steady, "I am not going to the penitentiary if you are my friend." "And you know that I am, Alf."