"You have pleaded guilty," resumed the judge sternly, "to the charge of murder. You have given a reason. You have either said too much or too little. If you are unable further to justify your cold-blooded and intemperate act, you shall hang." "What do you want me to say?" whined Lou Garou. "I want you to tell the court," said the judge, "why you shot Ruddy Boyd. If it is possible for you to justify that act I want you to do it. The court, representing, as it does, the justice of the land, has a leaning, a bias, toward mercy. Stand up and tell us your story from the beginning." The prisoner once more indicated the woman. "About then," he said, "I had nothin' but Jenny--and twenty dollars gold that I had loaned to Ruddy Boyd. Hans"--he pointed to a stout German sitting on the Carolinian's left--"wouldn't give me any more credit at the store." He whined and sniffled. "I'm not blaming you one mite, Hans," he said, "but I had to have flour and bacon, and all I had was twenty dollars gold that Ruddy owed me. So I says, 'Jenny, I'll step over to Ruddy's shack and ask him for that money.' She says, 'Think you'd better?' and I says, 'Sure.' So she puts me up a snack of lunch, and I takes my rifle and starts. Ruddy was in his ditch (having shovelled out the snow), and I says, 'Ruddy, how about that twenty?' You all know what a nice hearty way Ruddy had with him--outside. He slaps his thigh, and laughs, and looks astonished, and then he says: 'My Gawd, Lou, if I hadn't clean forgot! Now ain't that funny?' So I laughs, too, and says, 'It do seem kind of funny, and how about it?' 'Now, Lou,' says he, 'you've come on me sudden, and caught me awkward. I ain't got a dime's worth of change. But tell you what: I'll give you a check.' "I says, 'On what bank?' "He says, 'Oh, Hans over at the store--_he_ knows me--'" All eyes were turned on the German. Lou Garou continued: "Ruddy says: 'Hans dassen't not cash it. He's scared of me, the pot-bellied old fool." The stout German blinked behind his horn spectacles. He feared neither God nor man, but he was very patient. He made no remark. "'If Hans won't,' says Ruddy, 'Stewart sure will!'" The foreman of the jury rose like a spring slowly uncoiling. He looked like a snake ready to strike. "May I inquire," he drawled, "what reason the late lamented gave for supposing that I would honor his wuffless paper?" Lou Garou sniffled with embarrassment and looked appealingly at the judge. "Tell him," ordered the latter. "Mind, then," said Lou Garou, "it was him said it, not me." "What was said?" glinted the foreman. "Something," said Lou Garou in a small still voice like that which is said to appertain to conscience, "something about him having give you a terrible lickin' once, that you'd never got over. He says, 'If Stewart won't cash it, tell him I'll step over and kick the stuffin' out of him.'" The juror on the left end of the front row stood up. "Did he say anything about me?" he asked.