No one moved in the court room for appreciable seconds after that pronouncement. As a flash-light photograph fixes an assemblage poised, with eyes staring in one direction, thus the half-breed’s words had cast a spell of immobility over all. It was a stillness fraught with danger. No man could say in what violent form it might break. First to recover from the surprise was the sheriff. “You, Jim, set down!” he shouted. “If there’s to be any accusin’ done here, I’ll do it.” “I do it,” persisted the half-breed. “Blood is on his han’. I see it.” Involuntarily Sedgwick looked at his right hand. There was a low growl from the crowd. “Steady!” came Kent’s voice at his elbow. “Mistakes like that are Judge Lynch’s evidence.” “Whah was he the night of the killin’?” cried Gansett Jim. “Ast him. Whah was he?” “Where was you, if it comes to that?” retorted the sheriff, and bit his lip with a scowl. At that betrayal Chester Kent’s eyelids flashed up, and instantly drooped again into somberness. “This hearing is adjourned,” twittered the medical officer. “Burial of the unknown, will take place at once. All are invited.” “Invitation respectfully declined,” murmured Sedgwick to Kent. “I don’t know that I’m exactly frightened; but I think I’d breathe easier in the open country.” “Well, I’m exactly frightened,” replied Kent in the same tone. “I want to run—which would probably be the end of us. Curious things about those handcuffs, isn’t it?” he went on in a louder and easily conversational voice. During their slow progress to the door he kept up a running comment, which Sedgwick supported with equal coolness. The crowd, darkling and undecided, pressed around them. As they went through the doorway, they were jostled by a sudden pressure, following which Kent felt a touch on his shoulder. He turned to face the sheriff. “Better get out of town quick,” advised Schlager in a half whisper. “Thank you,” said Kent in a clear and cheerful voice. “Where can I get some tobacco?” “Sterrett’s grocery keeps the best,” said some informant back of him. “End of the Square to the right.” “Much obliged,” said Kent, and strolled leisurely to his car, followed by Sedgwick. As they took their seats and started slowly through the crowd, Sedgwick inquired earnestly: “Do you crave tobacco at this particular moment worse than you do the peace and loneliness of the green fields?” “Policy, my young friend,” retorted Kent. “I wish I could think up a dozen more errands to do. The more casually we get out of town, the less likely we are to be followed by a flight of rocks. I don’t want a perfectly good runabout spoiled by a mob.” Both of them went into Sterrett’s store, where Kent earned the reputation from Sterrett of being “awful dang choosy about what he gets,” and came out into a considerable part of the populace, which had followed. As they reëmbarked, the sheriff put his foot on the running-board. “Better take my tip,” he said significantly.