“According to the circumstances as I see them.” “That is not a direct answer to my question, Mr. Sampson.” “I am not willing to say that I will be governed entirely by the evidence. I can only say, that I should render what I consider to be a just and reasonable verdict, depending on circumstances.” “Ahem! You are quite sure that you could render a just and reasonable verdict?” “Yes.” “And yet you admit that you cannot answer for your sympathies?” “Are you cross-examining me?” “Not at all, Mr. Sampson,” responded the other smoothly. “I am merely trying to ascertain whether you are competent to serve as a juror in this case.” Sampson was saying to himself: “Thank the Lord, he will never accept me.” Aloud he said: “Pray, overlook my stupidity and proceed--” The Court leaned forward and tapped smartly on the desk with a lead pencil. “We are wasting time, gentlemen. Please omit the persiflage.” “Have you ever served as a juror in a criminal case, Mr. Sampson?” inquired the lawyer. Sampson had turned pink under the Court's mild irony. “No,” he answered, and glanced at Miss Hildebrand, expecting to see a gleam of amusement in her eyes. She was regarding him quite solemnly, however. “You are a Harvard man, I believe, Mr. Sampson?” “Yes.” “If it should be shown that this defendant is also a Harvard graduate, would that fact serve to prejudice you in his favour?” “Certainly not,” said Sampson, warmly. This was _too_ much! “What is your business, Mr. Sampson?” “I am connected with the Sampson Steamship and Navigation Company.” “In what capacity?” “I am its president.” “You are, I believe, the son of the late Peter Stuyvesant Sampson, founder of the company?” “I am.” “The only son?” “And heir,” said Sampson curtly. “I inherited my job, if that's what you are trying to get at. And it is more or less of an honorary position, if that will help you any. I am president of the company because I happen to own all but five shares of the capital stock, and not because I really want to hold, or because I am in any sense competent to fill the office. Now you know all that there is to know about my connection with the company.” “Thanks,” said the assistant district attorney, drily. “And now, Mr. Sampson, could you sit as a juror in this case and give, on your honour as a man, despite a very natural sympathy that may be aroused for this aged defendant, a verdict in favour of the State if it is proved to you beyond all doubt that he is guilty as charged?” There was but one answer that Sampson could give. He felt exceedingly sorry for himself. “Yes.” Then he made haste to qualify: “Provided, as I said before, that there are no extenuating circumstances.”