Then came the arguments, extending themselves into the following day; then Sharlow must speak; he must charge the jury. The purpose of the charge was to lay the law of the case before the jury, and for an hour he went on, talking of "proximate cause," of "contributory negligence," of "measure of damages," and at last, the jury having been confused sufficiently to meet all the requirements of the law, he told them they might retire. It was now noon, and the court was deserted by all but Koerner and his wife, who sat there, side by side, and waited. It was too far for them to go home, and they had no money with which to lunch down town. The bright sun streamed through the windows with the first promise of returning warmth. Now and then from the jury room the Koerners could hear voices raised in argument; then the noise would die, and for a long time it would be very still. Occasionally they would hear other sounds, the scraping of a chair on the floor, once a noise as of some one pounding a table; voices were raised again, then it grew still. And Koerner and his wife waited. At half-past one the bailiff returned. "Any sign?" he asked Koerner. "Dey was some fightin’." "They’ll take their time," said the bailiff. "Vot you t’ink?" Koerner ventured to ask. "Oh, you’ll win," said the bailiff. But Koerner was not so sure about that. At two o’clock Sharlow returned and court began again. Another jury was called, another case opened, Koerner gave place to another man who was to exchange his present troubles for the more annoying ones the law would give him; to experience Koerner’s perplexity, doubt, confusion, and hope changing constantly to fear. Other lawyers began other wrangles over other questions of law. At three o’clock there was a loud pounding on the door of the jury room. Every one in the court-room turned with sudden expectation. The bailiff drew out his keys, unlocked the door, spoke to the men inside, and then went to telephone to Marriott and Ford. After a while Marriott appeared, but Ford had not arrived. Marriott went out himself and telephoned; Ford had not returned from luncheon. He telephoned to Ford’s home, then to his club. Finally, at four o’clock, Ford came. After the verdict Marriott went to the Koerners and whispered: "We can go now." The old man got up, his wife helped him into his overcoat, and he swung out of the court-room on his crutches. He had tried to understand what the clerk had read, but could not. He thought he had lost his case. "Well, I congratulate you, Mr. Koerner," said Marriott when they were in the corridor. "How’s dot?" asked the old man harshly. "Why, you won." "Me?" "Yes; didn’t you know?" "I vin?" "Certainly, you won. You get eight thousand dollars." The old man stopped and looked at Marriott. "Eight t’ousandt?" "Yes, eight thousand." "I get eight t’ousandt, huh?" "Yes." A smile transfigured the heavy, bony face. "Py Gott!" he said. "Dot’s goodt, hain’t it?"